-1*

'1^ ' '

YALE UNIVERSITY
LIBRARY

ESSAY

APPLICATION OF ABSTRACT REASONING

CHRISTIAN DOCTRINES:

ORIGINALLY PUBUSHEfi

INTRODUCTION TO EDWARDS ON THE WILL.

BY THE AUTHOR OF
NATURAL HISTORY OF ENTHUSIASM.'

First American Edition.

BOSTON;
PUBLISHED BY CROCKER AND BREWSTER,
47, Washington Street:
NEW-YORK:-JONATHAN LEAVITT,
182, Broadway. 1832. ,

Entered, according to the Act of Congress, in the year one thousand
eight hundred and thirty-two, by Crocker & Brewster, in the Clerk's
Office of the District Court of iUassachusetts.

ADVERTISEMENT
TO THIS EDITION.
Few men, by means of a single small vol
ume, have added so much to the intellectual
wealth of the world as the author of the 'Nat
ural History of Enthusiasm.' Almost the
whole book is a clear enlargement of the field
of thought and investigation. The subject is
new, and the manner of treating it is new.
Giving such a work to the world is like adding
to an empire a before undiscovered territory.
In the following Essay this author has fully
sustained the character which he acquired by
the work named above, of being a liberal con
tributor to the common-stock of thought.
The subject is surely one of great practical
moment, bearing directly on the method of
explaining and discussing the Christian doc
trines; and, of course, on the labors of the
preacher and the student of theology. It is
quite safe to say that half of all the theological
disputation which has prevailed since the

Christian era, agitating the minds of men and
distracting the Church, has had its origin in
attempts to make revealed truth harmonize*
with systems of intellectual philosophy. It
may fairly be doubted whether, on the whole,
these attempts have at a\} advanced the cause
of genuine orthodoxy and godliness. It is
almost certain, that, if the same power of
thought, and the same learning had been
applied with equal zeal to a simple, apostol-'
ical exhibition of the great truths and motives
of revelation, and to the inculcation of the
spirit of the gospel, the result would have
been far more auspicious to the cause of truth
and human salvation.
The serious and candid manner in which
the inquiry respecting the relation that the
abstract doctrine of liberty and necessity bears
to revealed truth is here pursued, and the
purely evangelical and catholic spirit which
pervades this as well as the other principal
work of this author, are most exemplary. The
reader can hardly fail to peruse these pages
confiding in the writer as an honest and safe
guide; and of finding, at the close, his own
views of the subject corrected and enlarged.
Boston, Jan. 1832.

ESSAY.

SECTION I.
If it be the prerogative of philosophical writings to
command a more grave attention, and to challenge a
higher rank in literature than is accorded to works of
imagination, it is also their fate more often to fall into
oblivion; or even if remembered and preserved, to be
superseded, and to forfeit the honors they once and
long enjoyed as canons of science. The reason of this
difference is obvious; for in the one class of composi
tions, an end is proposed which may be attained in a
thousand ways^ and in the pursuit of which genius
ensures its own success. But in the other class, where
the discovery of truth is the single object, success de
pends not merely upon zeal and ability, but upon the
good fortune also which may lead the inquirer upon
the one only track amid innumerable devious paths.
2

14
The mass of ancient literature that has reached mod
ern times, consists in great part of those products of
mind, the immortality of v?hich has not at all resuhed
from their value as vehicles of truth: yet are they still
perused with delight — are handed down as inestimable
treasures from age to age — pass in the course of civilis
ation from clime to clime — and (go where they may)
awaken always, in every cultured mind, the liveliest
emotions of pleasure. Along with the poetry, the ora
tory, and the histories of a bright and distant time, we
have received also, in no small quantity, the philosophy
of the same era. Yet is it a fact, that of this prodigious
assemblage, a single small treatise * alone retains its
place and office as a source of knowledge, or is actually
extant as ah efficient instrument of instruction. Never
theless, it is far from being true that Pindar, Hesiod,
and Homer, or that Anacreon, Sophocles and Aristo
phanes, were men of a higher order of intellect , than
those philosophers, their contemporaries, not a sentence
of whose writings has been conserved; or than Plato
and Aristotle, whose works, though handed down to
us, exist in our libraries much rather as literature than
as philosophy.
The arrogant chiefs of the Grecian philosophical
sects looked probably with scorn upon the versifiers,
and dramatists, and orators of their day, and deemed
them triflers. And yet is it these who still command the
admiration of mankind; while those, for the most part
do but hover in the recollections of the learned, as
' Euclid's .Elements.

15

phantoms of an obsolete intellectual domination. But
the one strove for a prize which is always attainable by
genius; — ^the other reared their fame on the proud pre
tension that they were teachers of truth: their claim
was disputed and disproved; and their ambition has
long ago been trampled in the dust.
Works of science lose their credit as such, either in
consequence of the refutation and entire rejection of the
principles they maintain; or they are gradually super
seded, in the natural course of improvement, by better
digested- systems, founded on the same general doc
trines. In instances of this latter sort, the discoverers
of certain great truths which have become the property
of thi intellectual commonwealth, though they still hold
their titles of honor, retain little real influence, and are
more often spoken of than read; or are read only by
the few who make the history of science their peculiar
study. As examples of the former class, we might mention
the pseudo-scientific doctrines of Plato — ^those splendid
errors which extinguished the then existing light of true
philosophy; and the greater portion of the physical dis
quisitions of Aristotle; and the astronomy of Ptolemy;
and then, in long array, and immeasurable bulk, the
alohymy, and the astrology, and the physics, and the
metaphysics, of the sixteen centuries, during which the
human mind dreamed ingeniously, rather than employed
itself waking upon the affairs of the real world.
Instances of the second sort (beside the single one
above mentioned) are hardly to be produced from the
extant remains of ancient literature; unless indeed we

16
were to consider as works of science the writings of the
Grecian and Roman geographers, whichthough superse
ded by the more exact information of modern times, still
exist, not simply as classical remains, but as sources of
knowledge.* Passing them, the writings of the fathers
of the modern astronomy may be named as examples,
completely in point; for these (the modern astronomy
being assumed as in truth the system of nature) have
possessed themselves of an immortality which must be
coeval with the existence of science. Nevertheless, it
has happened, and indeed it is a distinction belonging
to genuine discoveries in science, that the writings which
opened the path of truth have ceased to be restd-, except
by the curious, even while still regarded as the spring
heads of real knowledge. , It was the glory of Coperni
cus, of Tycho, of Kepler, and of Galileo, to say to their
successors, "Leave us, and'jgo on."f
Yet is it true of the few works that take rank in the
highest class of philosophical literature, that, though
they may have become obsolete, either because essen
tially erroneous, or because superseded^ they still chal
lenge attention and respect as products of mind; and
though no longer valuable as guides in the pursuit of
knowledge, are precious as works of genius, and as ex
hibitions of an athletic force of intellect. It is in this

* We should perhaps say topographers; topography being more remote
from the fields of speculation than any other branch of learning, was less
vitiated than any other branc^h among the ancients; and their writings of
this class retain their value to the present day.
t Is the "Principia" now taking its place in this class of superseded
philosophy? Though this were the fact, Newton would lose none of his
fame.

17

sense that the unmatched writings of Aristotle must be
immortal; and thus that the best of his expounders may
continue to be read: and it is on this ground also that
Hobbes, and Des Cartes, and Malebranche, and
Berkeley, and Hume, and Hutcheson, and Hartley, re
tain, and will, perhaps, long retain, their place in the
literature of Europe, and be perused by a future and
more enhghtened generation, to whom the absurdities
and whimsical sophisms with which they abound, shall
seem even more frivolous than they do to ourselves.
Whatever may in the next age be the fate of the
"Inquiry concerning Freedom of Will," (in the present
age it holds all its honors and authority), it may safely
be predicted that, at least as an instance of exact analy
sis, of profound or perfect abstraction, of conclusive
logic, and of calm discussion, this celebrated essay will
long support its reputation, and will continue to be used
as a classic material in the business of intellectual edu
cation. If literary ambition had been, which certainly
it was not, the active element of the author's mind (as
it was' the single motive in the mind of his contemporary
and admirer Hume), and if he couW have foreseen the
reputation of his "Essay on Free Will," he need have
envied very few aspirants to philosophic fame. What
higher praise could a scientific writer wish for, than that
of having, by a small aqd single dissertation, reduced a
numerous, a learned, and a powerful party, in his own *
and other countries (and from his own day to the pres-
* We claim Edwards as an Englislimdn: he was such in every respect
but the accident of birth in a distant province of the empire.
*2

18
ent time) to the sad necessity of making a blank protest
against the argument and inference of the book, and of
saying, "The reasoning of Edwards must be a sophism;
for it overthrows our doctrine." And then, if we turn
from theology to science — from divines to philosophers,
we see the modest pastor of the Calvinists ofNorthamp-
ton assigned to a seat of honor among sages, and allow
ed (if he will lay aside his faith and his Bible) to speak
and to utter decisions as a master of science.
It might indeed have been well if the devout Ed
wards * could have foreseen the consequences that have
actually resulted from the mode in which he conducted
his argument; for in that case, assuredly he would not
have allowed to sceptics the opportunity of triuniphing
by his means over faith as well as reason. He would,
then, instead of abandoning the ground of abstract rea
soning as soon as he had achieved the overthrow of the
metaplhysical error of his opponents, have carried it
(and he was able to do so) to its utmost extent, and
have so established the responsibility of mail, as should
have compelled infidels either not to avail themselves at
all of his proof of universal causation, or to yield to his
proof of the reality of religion.
The diffidence and. the Christian humility, or the re
tired habits of the American divine, prevented, perhaps,
his entertaining the thought that he might be hstened to
by philosophers, as well as by his brethren, the minis
ters of rehgion. Supposing' himself to write only for
those who acknowledged, as cordially as he did, the
* See note A at the end of the Essay.

19

authority of Scripture, he scrupled not to make out his
chain of reasoning, indifferently, of' abstractions and of
texts; and especially in the latter portion of his treatise,
readily took the short Scriptural road to a conclusion,
which must have been circuitously reached in any other
way. Just and peremptory as these conclusions may
be, they commanded no respect out of the pale of the
church; nay, they rather excited the scorn of those
who naturally said — ^If these principles could have been
established by abstract argument, a thinker so profound
as Edwards, and so fond of metaphysics, woold not
have proved them by the Bible.
Sceptics of all classes (it has ever been the practice
and policy of the powers of evil to build with plundered
materials), availing themselves greedily of the abstract
portions of the inquiry, and contemning its Biblical con
nectives and conclusions, carried on the unfinished rea
soning in their own manner; and when they bad com
pleted their edifice of gloom and fear, turned impu
dently to the faithful, and said — "Nay, quarrel not with
our labors; the foundations were laid by one of your
selves!" Notwithstanding this unhappy and accidental result
of the argument for moral causation, as conducted by
Edwards, this celebrated treatise must be allowed to
have achieved an important service for Christianity, in
asmuch as it has stood like a bulwark in front of princi
ples which, whether or not they may hitherto have been
stated in the happiest manner, are of such consequence,
that if they were once, and universally abandoned by
the church, the church itself would not long make good

20
its opposition to infidelity. Let it be granted that Cal
vinism has often existed in a state of mixture with crude,
or presumptuous, or preposterous dogmas. Yet surely,
whoever is competent to take a calm, an independent,
and a truly philosophic survey of the Christian system,
and can calculate also the balancings of opinion — ^tjie
antitheses of belief,. will grant, that if Calvinism, in the
modern sense of the term, * were quite exploded, a
long time could not elapse before evangelical Armini^
anism would find itself driven helplessly into the gulf
tliat had yawned to receive its rival; and to this catas
trophe must quickly succeed the triuitiph of the dead
rationalism of Neology; and then that of Atheism.'
Whatever- notions of an exaggerated sort may belong
to some Calvinists, Calvinism, as distinguished from
Arminianism, encircles or involves Great Truths,
which, whether dimly or clearly discerned — whether
defended in Scriptural simplicity of language, or de
formed by grievous perversions, will never be abandoned
while the' Bible continues to be devoutly read; and
which, if they might indeed be subverted, would drag
to the same ruin every doctrine of revealed religion.
Zealous, dogmatical, and sincere Arminians little think
how much they owe to the writer who, more than any
other in modern times, has withstood their inconsiderate
endeavors to impugn certain prominent articles of the
Reformation. Nay, they thmk not that, to the exlst-
* It is hardly necessary to say, that the term Calvinism is used without
any reference to the particular opinions of the illustrious divine who has
given his name to a system of doctrine much olc^er than the age of the
Reformation.

21

ence of Calvinism they owe their own, as Christians-
Yet as much as this might be affirmed, and made good;
even though he who should undertake the task were so
to conduct his argument as might make six Calvinists
in ten his enemies.
Yet it will not be affirmed (unless' by the advocates
of a party) that the treatise on the Will is in itself com
plete; or that it is open to no reasonable objection on
the part of those who refuse to admit its conclusions;
or that it leaves nothing to be desired in this department
of theological science. Very far, we think, is this from
being the fact. Edwards achievedj indeed, his imme
diate object — that of exppsing to contempt, in all its
evasions, the Arminian notion of contingency, as the
bliiwl law of human volitions: and he did more; — ^he
effectively redeemed the doctrines called Calvinistic
from that scorn with which t^e irreligious party, withb
and without the pale of Christianity, would fain have
overwhelmed them: — ^he taught the world to be less
flippant; and there is reason also to surmise (though the
facts are not to be distinctly adduced) that, in the re
action which of late has counterpoised the once tri
umphant Arminianism of English epispocal divinity, the
influence of Edwards has been much greater than those
who have yielded to it have always confessed.
But if the inquiry on Freedom of Will is regarded,
and it ought to be so regarded, as a scientific treatise,
then we must vehemently protest against that mixture
(already alluded to) of metaphysical demonstrations
and Scriptural evidence, which runs through it, break
ing up the chain of argumentation — disparaging the

22
authority of the Bible, by making it part and parcel
with disputable abstractions? and worse, destroying both
the lustre and the edge of the sword of the Spirit, by
using it as a mere weapon of metaphysical warfare.
Yet, injustice to Edwards it. must be remembered, that
while pursuing this -course, he did but follow in the track
of all who had gone before him. To this ancient evil
we must again advert.
But, besides the improper mixtare of abstract reason
ing with documentary proof, the attentive reader of Ed-
T^ards will detect a confusion of another sort, less palpa
ble indeed, but of not less fatal consequence to the con
sistency of a philosophical argument; and which, though
^nctioned by the highest authorities, in all times, and
recommended by the example of the niost^emlneiit wri
ters, even to the present moment, must, so long as it is
adhered to, hold intellectual philosophy far in the rear
of the physical and mathematical sciences. For the
present it is enough just to point out the error, of method
alluded to, remitting the further consideration of it to a
subsequent page.
It is that of mingling purely abstract propositions-^
propositions strictly metaphysical,* with facts belonging
to the physiology of the human mind. Even the reader
who is scarcely at all familiar with abstruse science,
will, if he follow our author attentively, be perpetually
conscious of a vagiie dissatisfaction, or' latent suspicion,
that some, fallacy has passed into the train of proposi-
* The reader is referred also to a subsequent page of this Essay for a
definition of the sense in which the writer employs the term metaphysics,
as distinguished from the physiology of the mind.

23

tions, although the linking of syllogisms seems perfect.
This suspicion will- increase in strength as he proceeds,
and will at length condense itself into the form of a
protest .against certain conclusions, notwithstanding
their apparently necessary connection with the premises.
The condition of those purely abstract truths which
constitute the higher metaphysics is, that they might
(though no good purpose could be answered by doing
so) be expressed by algebraic or other arbitrary signs;
and in that form made to pass through the process of
syllogistic reasoning; certain conclusions being attained
which must be assented to, independently of any refer
ence to the, actual constitution of human nature — or to
that of other sentient beings. These abstractions stand
parallel , with the truths of pure mathematics.7— And it
may be said of both, that the human mind masters them,
comprehends and perceives their properties and rela
tions, and feels that the materials of its cogitation lie all
within its grasp, are exposed to its inspection, and need
not be gathered from observation. To such abstractions
the artificial methods of logic are applicable.
Not so, to our reasonings when the actual conforma
tion of either he material world, or of the animal sys
tem, or of the mental, is the subject, of inquiry. Logic
may place in their true relative position things already
known; but it aids us not at all (the logic of syllogism) in
the discovery of things unknown. Hence it follows,
that if an inquiry, the ultimate facts of which relate to
the agency and moral condition of man, be conducted
in the method that is proper to pure abstractions, and
if, as often as the argument demands it, new materials
are brought in, unexamined, from the actual conforma-

24
tion of the human mind, very much maj^ be taken for
granted, and will flow in the stream of logical 'demon
stration, which in itself is at least questionable, and
which, whether true or false, should be stated as simple
matter, of fact, and by no means confounded with those
unchangeable truths which would be what~they are,
though no such being as man existed. This error of
method-t-an inveterate one — isas if a mathematician in
calculating (for example) the necessary dimensions of a
timber which, being supported at its two extremities, ,
was to sustain a given weight, were, in carrying on the
mathematical part of his reasoning, to assume the speci
fic properties of timber as an iiivariable abstraction;' or
were either to leave out of the process all consideration
of the density, compressibility, and tenacity of oak, ash,
fir, elm. Sic, or were to take' certain facts 6f this sort-
upon vulgar report, and blend them with his calcula
tions, without, having experimentally informed himself
of the physical constitution of the materials in question.
In the scientific procedures of the mechanic arts, the
ultimate result, whether it be a building, a bridge, or a
machine, usually combines three perfectly distinct and
independent series of truths, or classes of causation;
namely, 1st, the mathematical relations of extension or
number; 2d, the mechanical laws of gravitation, motion,
friction, he; 3d, the' qualities and properties (in part
mechanical, in part chernical) of the several materials
that are to be employed or wrought upon.
Now these distinct principles or truths must be sepa
rately considered; and each in the. method proper ta
itself; and must then be combined in the single result.
It is thus alone that the arch can be made to sustaia

25

itself and its intended burden; — that the roof will rest
on its plate; — that the engine will perform its compli
cated part; or the simplest implement execute its des
tined drudgery.'*
But' owing, in part, to the abstruse nature of the sub
ject, and to its not being susceptible of palpable prooi;
and, in part, to the unhappy accidents which in every
age have beset.intellectual philosophy, problems belong
ing to the science of mind have commonly been at
tempted to be solved, on the. principle of confounding
the abstract with the physical. And then if, in addition
to this capital error, there have been mingled with the
process the jargon of religious factions, and with that,
the antagonist dogmas of the enemies of all religion, the
sniallest probability of attaining a satisfactory result has
been removed? and the actual issue of the controversy,
instead of going calmly tp its place, like the conclusions
of physical science, has served only to exacerbate new
contentions, either among theologians, or between them
and the assailants of Christianity.
In the case, therefore, of our availing ourselves of the
reasoning of a writer, like President Edwards, it behoves
us to take heed that we do justice, at once, to him and
to ourselves. ,To him, by not imputing to him, tWi-
viduaUy, a blame which belongs in common to all meta-
physico.-theological writers, of every age — not one per
haps excepted. And to 'ourselves, by assenting to his
argument only so far as it is purely of an abstract. kind;
while we hold ourselves aloof from every conclusion
* See note B.

26

-which involves physiological facts of a kind either not
considered by the author, or not kndwnto him.,

SECTION 11.
Success in. the .prosecution of a scientific inquii'y
demands that, if the desired result, or the ultimate fact,
be of a simple kind, we should, 1st, Seek for it among
•the class of truths to which it actually belongs; * and ,
2d, That, in conducting the procesls, we exclude the
facts and avoid the methods proper, to other, bi-anches
of knowledge". Or if the ultimate feet be- complex,
involving truths of different classes, it is necessary that
we pursue each class'separately, and in its proper man
ner, and at last truly combine the several products.
Of what sort, then, vre may ask, is'the inquiry con-
ceriiing human agency, free will, liberty, and necessity?
In other words: to what department &f science does the
controversy belong, and on what ground is, it to be
argued? Now, in order that'eVery probable suppositioh
may be included, and that we may disengage ourselves
from such as are groundless, let it be affirmed, succes
sively, of this question, that it is one
I. Of common life, affecting the personal, social, and
political conduct of mankind;
II. Of theology and Christian doctrine;
III. Of the physiology of man; . '
IV. Of the higher metaphysics. * See note C.

27

It is proposed to consider, as briefly as possible, the
question of moral causation and necessity separately
under these heads. And first, suppose it to be affirmed
that the controversy may, in its result, affect the con-
diict of common life, or ought to influence the feelings
or behavior of men in their ordinary transactions, pri
vate and publio.
Unless for the sake of an important inference (soon
to be mentioned), it might well be deemed in the last
degree trivial and impertinent^ even to assume as at all
reasonable the supposition, that the substantial interests
of life are liable to interruption or interference from
abstruse dogmas of any kind, and especially of such as
are advanced in the controversy concerning liberty and
necessity. There has, indeed, been a season among
our near neighbors, during which an interference of this
sort was allowed; * and it may also have found indul
gence within the circle of German philosophy; and it has
always had a place among the mystics of Asia.f But
in England, the force of common sense is far too great,
and the credit of metaphysics is, happily, far too small,
for any room to be gsaqted to extravagances of this
order. Or,_ were it otherwise,' the supposition of a
practical consequence belonging to the question would
stand discharged by the leave of even the most resolute
impugners of the common sense and common feelings
of mankind, who, not only by their personal conduct,
but by explicit admissions, excuse their fellow-mep
from paying any more respect to their sublime demon
strations, than is ordinarily thought due to the inexpli-
* See note D. t See note E.

28
cable whims of men who- abound in learning and
leisdre.* Yet let us for a moment contend, as if in serious con
troversy with the supposition, that such doctrines as the
Pyrrhonic or the Stoic; or -the rrioderh doctrine of
necessity; or if there be yet in' the womb of chtios any
other dogma of similar quality, that these 'high 'principles
have , a claim to be listened to before men can, with
reason or consistency, proceed to transact the business
of life, or with propriety give ¦'indulgence to .certain vul
gar emotions.
Now, we. should overturn a preposterous pretension -
of this sort in more Ways than one; za^ first, we should,
by a loose technical argument, procure a relegation of
any such controversy from the haunts of real life" in this
manner. Let it be supposed, .that, . in due course of
law, and after hearing and sifting of evidence, a prisoner
at the bar has received seiltence of death; but his legal
advocate pleads an arrest of judgmentj on the ground,
we will say, of an error in the arraignment. The court
assents to the propriety of this sort of interruption — ad-
ihits the objection to be formal and pertinent — ex,amines
with care the allegation, and finding It' valid, allows to
the convicted man the benefit of the demurrer. But
let it be imagined that the prisoner's legal defender,
* "When the Pyrchonian awal>es from his dream, he will be the first lo
join in the laugh against himself, and to confess that all his objections are
mere amu.semeni, and cAn ,have no other tendency than to shew ^he
whimsical conditinn of mankind, who must act ,and rea'son,-and believe
though ihey arc not able, by ih.'ir most diligent inquiry, lo satisfy them
selves concerning the fonndalion of these operations, or lo remove the
objections that may be raised against them." — Hume's Inquiry concern
ing the Human Understanding, sect. xii. part 2.

29
destitute of any such fit objection, wherewith to pfotecf
the life of his client, stands up to impugn the good
policy, or' the abstract justice, or the morality of the
statute under which he has been condemned; or he
affirms that this enactment is contrary to the spirit of
the constitution, and is in itself an outrage upon unalien
able rights. In an argument of this sort, he might
happen to have all reason and good principles on his
side; and might, if permitted to speakj actually bring
udge, jury, and the crowd around, to think with him
self But the court peremptorily excludes any such
impertinence, though valid in itself, as utterly improper
to the place and occasion; nor for a moment to be
listened to, where laws are to be put in force — ^not
repealed or amended.
And yet this very same argument, overruled and re
jected in a court, of justice, may be carried into the
senate, and shall there be respectfully entertained.
Senators will hear and weigh reasons which judges
repudiate. The ground of this practical procedure is
manifest;.^ — every one to his business. In the senate,
motives of policy, and legal consistences, and special
necessities of state, togetiier with arguments of abstract
or universal justice; and eVen, to some extent, religious
considerations, are brought together from all sides, and
go to influence the legislative decision. Nevertheless,
limits are imposed upon the indulgence given to senato
rial argunientation. Were it, for instance, to happen
that a legislative body included a mere theorist, or dab
bler in philosophy; and were such a one, instead of
alleging some of the topics just mentioned, to advance,
*3

30
as a" .motive for repealing a penal statute certain doc
trines of phrenologital science, and were to say, that
inasmuch as the murderer and the thief are the pitiable
victims of an unhappy cerebal, malformation,, and in de
priving their fellows of ]ii''e or chattels do' but yield to an
organic iiecessity, springing from a certain -too-much-
bloated inch of brain — therefore, to pursue crime by pim-
ishraent'.is only to add, cruelty to rhisfortune;: — we say, in
such a case, the- irnproper argument w'Duld be overruled.
Or, instead, of ibe phrenologi,st, let it be supposed that
a stanch and consistent disciple of the modern "Philos-
ophy of the Huixian M'tnd" announces to his peers the
now demonstrated fact, "That virtue and vice are mere
relations — absolute nonentities, except just so far as they
are thought of and perceived by other minds; and not
more re'cil or positive than the most recondite properties
of a triangle." * Let. him thence argue that, to' inflict
the pains of death upon an unfortunate being, who (in '
consequence of a volition in itself ^wre^j/ contingent) has
given rise to the existence of some such relative notion
in the minds of other men, would be an inhumanity,
equally barbarous and unscientific.
Or, to come nearer to our subject, vve may imagine
some such speculative senator to oppose a penal enact
ment, on the ground of philosophical fatalism, averring
that, as "all things are as they must be," human respon
sibility is a- fable, virtue and vice empty 'names, govenl-
ment and law the trickery of kings, as religion" is of
* Brown's Lectures, 73 aiid, 74,> especially pp. 595 and S96, vol. iii..
Broun must not; however, be conro,iinded with 'the enetriies of religion
and virtue. But his preposterous theory of morals affords striking illus
tration of the assertion. That intellectual philosophy is yet in its infancy.

priests. But, in any such supposed instance of learaed
quackery or philosophical impertinence, not a moment's'*"
indulgence would be granted, in a senate, to the man of
theory: all ears would be stopped, or his voice drow.fied
in outcries of contempt. Nor would this impatience
spring' so much from the belief that the argument was
sophistical, and the theoiy baieless, as from the feeling
that, whether true or false, questions of 'this order belong
not t f i f/ ors, bu't to philosophers. Every man to his
business; and whenever men have long occupied a posi
tion where" extensive experience has authenticated cer
tain modes of procedure, and where great, many, and
substantial benefits have been obtained; they are not to
be. thence removed, or to be driven from their ancient
inheritance of known advantages, by the mere demon
strations of pretended science. If an abstruse dogma
be indeed well founded, it will in time vanquish to itself
' the convictions of mankind, and will then properly come
in to regulate the conduct of life, when all men have
confessed its right to do so.
But there is a bar to the interference of, abstruse
dogmas v. ith common interesis,, more determinate than
the preceding. Let fatalism in its'most perfect form *
* "RPi-arriez V de pre.s, ct votis verrez qi'e le mot liberie est un mot
vide de sens; qu'il n'y a point, el qu'il ne p m \ avoir d'eires fibres. . .
. . . Le molif iicus Oil iniijouis exieiicur, e'rai'pcr nilache ou par une
nature, oit paru.ie coa-c quelconque, qui n'est pas nous. . . . Mais s'll n'y
a po'mt de liberie, il n'y !^ pijiiit d'aclion qui ineiiie la louange ou le. blSnie;
iln'y arii r:cc,7n rfrlv.j'ien doitt il faille recompeD.';erou clialier  I]
n'y a qu'wne sorie de causes a propremcnt pu. ler; ce soiit (es causes phy
siques. II n'y aqu'une sorle de noce^iie, c'es.1 la merae pour tous Its etres."
—T>WEROT ,-as qiipted in Hie First Dissertation pref.^ ed to the Encij. Brit.
7th edit.— if indeed there be neither vice nor virtue, and nothing -ivhich

32
be assumed as the mooted question, — a question about
to be peremptorily decided. Now, on. the supposition
that the doctrine is disproved, exploded, and for ever
cast out of the minds of men, what (except, indeed,
that the world would be exorcised of a demon lie) what
is the practical result? Absolutely none; the product
of the controversy in that case is just — zero. Or if this
nothing must indeed be attenuated in a length of words,
it comes to tiiis: That the course .of nature is what it
seems to be; that the actions of men are what they
have ever been thought; that the common sense of
mankind is in truth, as it has always been supposed, a
reasonable guide;' and that the position of man in the
present state is not "whimsical," "absurd," "contra
dictory," "preposterous," "frightful," but altogether ex
plicable and consistent. By such a determination of
the controversy, all thinjs, we say, would be left as
previously they were; nothing altered, nothing amended,
nothing superadded. Nor is it as in those branches, of
science where, even if positive and practical results are
not obtained, some new and agreeable objects are dis
covered, or some region of delightful conternplation
opened to the mind, or certain demonstrable relatipns -
set forth,' for the exercise of its powers of abstraction.
Nothing like this takes place when fatalism is disproved;
deserves prai e or blame, it i^ certain, not merely that the conduct of
mankind throughout one large department of its ordinary proceedings is
enormously absurd, but also that the constitution 'of human nature is
founded upon errorj an error which this true, and only true, philosophy
exposes. Now it is this pretence to convict the sentiments, conduct, and
constilution of mankind of illusiveness and absurdity, which affords the
ground of comparison between Itself and every other science, and which
convicts itself of falseness.

33

and therefore, if this issue be anticipated, the entire
controversy may as well be at once dismissed from the
precincts of common life and of ordinary interests; inas
much as the question, when thus determined, resolves
itself into a simple nonentity. .
But let the ahernative be taken, and let it be sup
posed that this fatalism is so convincingly demonstrated,
that no way of escape' from the dire doctrine can at all
be discovered; — ^then, and in that case, its practical in
fluence might be rejected as completely and' effectively
as if it had been disproved. Fatalism (by the supposi
tion) has been established by a demonstrative, or, at
least, an irrefragable course of'reasoning; and therefore
takes its place along with the truths of other exact
sciences, and should maintain sociality with them;^at
least not stand alone, repugnant to all, and frowned
upon by all. Yet, as it will appear, this must be the
fact; and its insulation and oppugnancy will be as great
on the side of the absolute principles of mathematical
science, as. on the part of physical and experimental
philosophy, where certainly rises not so high.
To prove our assertion, we say that a presumption
exists that the material world is so constituted as. to fall
in- with the prosperous condition of the moral world; or^
in other words, that such a hat'mony prevails throughout
the system of nature, material and intellectual, as shall
make it invariably true that each discovery of the actual
constitution of the one shall, directly or indirectly, pro
mote the well-being of the other.
We say a presumption of this kind exists. But is it
supported by facts.' Does the general suffrage of phi-

34
losophy — does the gross result of mathematical and
physical science— of those sciences which, resting upoa
demonstration or conclusive experiment, are not to be
trifled with-*-authenticate, or does it invalidate, the sup- ¦
position? Does it go to favor the belief that the system.
of nature, is one vast contrariety, inimical to man, and
far better unknown than explored? or does it corroborate
our theorem, that the world, having been put together
by a Beneficent Power, is so framed as to adjust itself
to the comfort and welfare of man, and precisely in
proportion as its laws and movements are understood
byhim^* The answer need not be formally given,
nor the evidence in detail be recounted. Or is it the
fact that, though his ready ingenuity turns to his particj-
ular advantage some few favorable accidents of the
material world, yet, that no general correspondence
between him and it can be traced? It were.isuper-'
fiuous to affirm that the reverse is the truth, and thai;
human ingenuity is wholly occupied in keeping pace
With those wealth-giving instructions which philosophy
every day hands over to her sister arts. Man invariably
receives, as well froril the surface of nature, as from her
depths, articulate invitations to employ his inventive
faculty for extending his command overhtjr movements,
and always for his own benefit. His condition, as a
reasoning and active being, in this system, is by no
means to he likened' to that of • a shipwrecked crew,
cast upon a desolate island, who, impelled by necessity,
are fain to convert the rudest and most improper and
unfitting fragments of things to the purposes of art, for
* See note F.

35

supplying the primary wants of life; and who (if'the
phrase may b4, excused) exist from day to. day by
shifts. But rather his circumstances in the abode in
which Beneficence has placed him, might be resembled
to the case of a company of untaught savages, who,
drifting across the seas in their canoe, -set foot on a
shore, where they find a deserted city and vacated
palaces. At first their rude ignorance is astounded by
the various works and products of mechanic and elegant
art; — they gaze in idle amazement upon implements,
machineries, decorations, and luxurious contrivances:
and they misname and misuse all things. But after a
while, the dormant . facuhy of reason is quickened by
observation: tentatives are made, and every day is
gladdened by a new discovery of the end and intention
'of this or the other article, or implement. Every ac
cession to their knowledge turns out to be a contribution
to their comforts or advantages; and this for the simple
reason, that. all things were designed and constructed
for the benefit and accommodation of just such beings
as these are, who now are learning the use of, them. At
length, when knowledge has reached its completion, it
is confessed, that within this city there is nothing rude,
fortuitous, or chaotic; but that all bears directiy or
remotely upon the welfare of those who have become
its occupants.'
Such is the tenor of the evidence given by the de
monstrable and physical sciences, in support of the
presumption (now no longer a mere presumption) that
man, as an inventive and active being, is placed in the
centre of the harmonies of the material universe; so

36

that it shall always j and by the very necessity pf nature,
be true,, that knowledge is his friend. ¦ And while he
learns this ^reat lessOn, he deiives from it the means of
detecting the mischiefs and fallacies of false philosophy.
Genuine Science,, he well knows, approaches him
always as a kind and benefipent instructress: — she has
ever some boon • in her hand: — she aids and comforts
her pnpil; she walks, on with him in the path of im
provement;- acctelerates his pace; stimulates his ener
gies; and calls him i still on and on towards higher
ground. ¦ . '
But let it for a moment be granted, that certain tiiet-
aphysical doctrines which convict the common sense,
and moral sentiments of mankind of, absurdity, and
which profess to abstain from urging home upon the
vulgar tiieir practical consequences, only by a gracious
indulgence towards certain useful delusions, and neces
sary infatuations;— p-let it, we say, be supposed, that
these doctrines are established by abstract, reasoning of
the most peremptory sort. In that case, the human
mind would be placed between two oppugnant demon
strations. ¦ On the one side it looks upOn the mathe
matical and experimental sciences, which are all, in
their thousand fornls, of a friendly and auxiliary char
acter — which smile upon human affairs and human
activities. And, on the othet. side, it sees the single
gloomy metaphysical demonstration, whose first saluta
tion, when it encounters human nature, is — ^Fool and
slave! which instructs only to baffle and to astound,
and to sicken the reasoning faculty, and to create a
contempt of man and of the universe. And it is found,

37

that while it is the auspicious property of natural, philos
ophy to diffuse itself safely and kindly, and, like a foun
tain of healing water, frQm its sources in Colleges and
seats of learning, to flow out among, the multitude, as a
pure blessing; — -jhis other science, this abstract dernon-
stration, is ' (by the confession of those, who darkly di
vulge it) a dire mystery, an esoteric truth, fit only for
sages, and -one which it is wise" to hide from the popu
lace. In fact, it • proves itself, wheti it comes among '
the vulgar, to be susceptible of no interpretation that '
is not pernicious. It is a philosophy 'which, by no in
genuity, by no refinements, can safely be broken up into
morsels for distribution among the people.*
Hpw, then, shall' a choice be made between the two
demonstrated, but-incompatible philosophies? How, hut
by an indignant rejection 9f the dark and hostile sci
ence, as a sophism, even though to, prove, it such were
impossible? This doctrine, we say,, even though it coidd
not be disproved, would be overwhehried, silenced, and
scouted, by the concuVrent suffrages of a\]g other sci
ences. It is contradicted by^he number or quantity of
proofs; and surpassed in the quality of its evidence: it
may then, properly be driven home to the cavern whence
first it issued, and for ever forbidden to approach the
precincts of humanity, or to infect the -atmosphere of
knowledge, action, and virtue. In a word,. the question
of neQessity may be pronqunced as nothing to hit
man nature; for if it be decided in- the manner that
is favorable to ordinary notions, it merges in a void*^—
• See note G.

38
disappears, and becomes the most' nugatory and idle of
all learned trifles. But if determined in the other man
ner, then it assumes an aspect which places it in contra
riety to every other science— demonstrable' and experi
mental;' and .therefore may be .spumed as a lie, because
it speaks as ad enehi'y.

SECTION III.
We con>e to our second supposition — namely, that
the question of liberty and necessity is important to
Theobocy and Cheistian Doctrine.
All Venerable usages, and all venerable notions, back
ed by the very cordial ajcquiescence • of atheists and
infidels, answer in "the affirmative; arid agree in ac
knowledging that ttie. controversy involves the very ex
istence of religion. But does common sense authenti
cate the same decision? Does ihe analogy of the real
sciences approve it?* ' Will the sounder views and better
feelings of a future and happier era of Christianity con
sent to it? . We venture to give the • negative to these
interrogations; .and are bold, moreover, ,to predict, that
the very next ,race of divines, our Own sons and suc
cessors, will reject as a sheer absurdity, and as a pre
posterous pedantry, that practice and opinion, on this
subject, which has stood sanctioned by the approval of
all theologiansj and all philosophers, of all ages!
* See note H.

•The, history of the connection between religion and
metaphysical science might be very profitably pursued.'*
But Volurnps would not suffice for the tTieme.' The
natural history of that fatal alliance might be set forth
.within much narrower limits; and would, indeed, re
solve itself mto a fev? well-known facts, or usages of the
human mind. It is common to humati nature (we can-
not here stay to inquire why) to .throw itself off from
the farniliar ground of proximate and intelligible caiises,
and to seek such as are abstruse, difficult, and ultimate,
whenever it is agitated by powerful emotions. '"^We
have in this, fact one of the sources of superstition; and
as it is in a sense .true, that fear, is the mother of the
gods, so, in a sense, i? it also true that anxiety, despoind-
enGy,and the impatience of pain and sorrow, are teach
ers of metaphysics. It may be doubted whether cer
tain profound gpeclilations would at all have suggested
themselves to the human mind, if life had been a course
of equable prosperrity. It inay be questioned, whether
the inhabitants of worlds tmvisited by evil, how large
soever then- intelligence may be, have thought of ask
ing. What is virtue.'' — or. What is the liberty of a moral
agent? \ - ..
The conflicts of hope and .fear, in the heart, and the
assaults that are made upon hope by the scepticism or
mockery of tiiose around us, impel us naturally (but
unwisely)' to throw up the .good and proper evidence
which, though simple, dnd iiitelligible, and sufficient,
does not open to the mind a depth profound enough to

* See note I.

40
give room for the mighty tossingsof the soul in its hour
of distress. — The only testimony or proof that is strictlif
applicable to the point in question, is thoughtles^ re
jected^ dnd in an evil riioment we transgress the lihiits
of safety and of comfort, and jiass from the .funxx to
the jusrct<iiu<rucx. Whcu this unhappy error has been com-
mittisd, two courses offer themselves; the orie'is to beat ,
up and down thrcjugh' the regions of night whereupon
we Have entered, until we find, or fancy that we have
found, sohd footing, and discern a igliramering of light.'
Thet other course ilS, by a buoyant effort of good' sense,
to spring up at once from ithe- abyss', and effect our re
turn to the trodden and familiar surface. of things. '
The ¦ process is a frequent and familiar^ one, wliich
leads the mind" to reason on .important occasions in a
manner which it shuns as absurd in parallel instances of
a trivial sort. The rnan -who loses his footing in the
street, and heslnears a new suit with mud, makes mirth
of the simple accident. But if,' when he is on his w&y
to accomplish ^some important purpose, to make a for
tune, pf ito rescue one, be falls and breaks a limb, and,'
as the consequence, irretrievably forfeits the only aus
picious moment of. his life, he then Igpks at the philoso
phy of the mishap; and, as he lies bn his couch, medi
tates and reasons — "o.f Fate aUjd Providence," and be
wilders his best convictions, arid, in the gloominess of
his sorrow, p,ersuades himself that there is no heavenly
superintendence', of human affairs — ^that .chance is mis
tress of the world; arid Vt .length con'cludes, that fore
thought, prudence-, and activity, not less- than faith and
piety, are a spiecious folfy. He resolves, therefore.

41
henceforward to pursue nojiiing .beyond the sensualitiei?
of an hour. Nevertheless, this same man, whom ca
lamity has taught to be a metaphysician, adheres still, on
all trivial occasions^ to the maxims.of vulgar good sense;
his philosophical principles he takes up and lays, down,
according to the magnitude or insignificance of the bus
iness in hand, and is not consistently sage or simple
through tile course of a single hour. To avoid the des
tined track of a bullet that is whizzing through the air,
he would deem a folly; and yet flinches from a splash
of dirt! But should he not remember, that the very
same awful fate that rules the flight of leaden balls,
presides, not less arbitrarily, over the whirling of straws,
the drifting of dust, arid the projectile curves of mud?
It is just conceivable, , or may. at least be imagined,
for the sake of an illustration, that a corporation, col
lege, or company, possessed, by charter, of great pre
rogatives, extensive rights, and vast wealth, might, if
vehemently urged to defend its monopoly or its privilege
against the en^vy and cupidity of the community, be
seduced so far from the path of common sense, as, in
stead of insisting pertinaciously upon the intelligible
evidence of the antiquity and- genuineness of its charter,
and, instead of establishing the fact of that remote trans
action, which lawfully invested its ancestors or prede
cessors with these disputed rights, to join issue with its
opponeints on some such physical question, as that of
the possible perpetuity of material substances, like paper
or parchment, from age to age; or on that of the actilal
existence of any generations of men antecedent to the
present; or upon that of the abstract communicableness
*4

42
of rights from person to persori. Many such whimsical .
doubts may be supposed to take place of the, simple
business-Hke questions — Is the charter validP-^Has it
been truly -interpreted? — Is it lawfully put. in operation?
Yet these, it is manifest, are the only question? in .which
the privileged parties have any peculiar concern; for
those liigher and abstruse difficulties belong not in any
specific manner to the college or corporation, but are
either absolutely futile, or must, be held to supersede
and invalidate the whole course of human affiiirs.*
An instance very neai-ly analogous to that of the con
nection between religion and metaphysical science, has,
in modern times, been actually obtruded on the world.
The portentoiis spectacle has been exhibited on the
theatre of nations, of a people, when convulsed by polit
ical revolutions, and while agitated by the furious pas
sions of revenge, pride, and rapacity, and while eagerly
contending for the partition of rights and possessions, to
forget the urgent considerations of national prosperity
and public safety,' , and to plungO headlong into the abyss
of those unfatho mable speculations that affect the, very
existence of man as a social being. So that the fren
zied multitude, instead of asking — How best shaH we
be governed? — have become infected with a metaphysic
madness, which has rendered them incapable of reason
able submission to any government, excepting that of
brute foirce and terror.f
* See note K. - '
+ The American revolution involved no metaphysical problems; and
it produced no reign of terror, nor did it end in a military dictatorship.

43

And thus, too, it . has happened, that the momentous
interests of the future life, as set forth by Christianity,
because they profoundly move the soul, and because,
by their interference with ungoyerned passions, they
excite hostility, lead both the defenders and the impugn
ers of a documentary religipn aside from the only per-
titient inquiry — ^Are the facts duly established, accord-
ing'to the ordiriary maxims of testimony, and belief? —
while they discqss controversies, to which religion is
related only in common with the most- familiar move
ments of social life. , Let philosophers (or sophists)
deny, if they, please, the existence of a material world.
Why should the teachers of Christianity, rather than
any other class of men, rush forward to oppose the pe
dantic whim? If that denial has in fact any meaning at
all, or if it carries any inference which men ought to
listen to, then should lawyers leave their courts, as well
as divines their pulpits, and' merchants their markets,
and physicians their hospitals, to join in the fray. If
any persons are interested in this abstruse quarrel, all
are s6 alike — demonstrably interested in one and the
same degree. Or let philosophers or sophists turn
about and deny the existence, not of the material world,
but of the intellectual and moral.* All men, in this
instance, as well as in the other, and all human inter
ests, duties, functions, hopes, and fears, are either aHke
concerned in the refutation of the learned nonsense, or
may alike, in their several circles of practical activity,
look upon it with utter contempt. Or again, let philo-
* See note L.

44
sophers affirm that an unalterable and iron fatality — an
immovable sequency of cause and effect, rules th&.
world. If there be any practical inference whatever
— any inference or corollary .which demarids respectful
hearing, appended to the doctrme, , then 'that conse
quence bears evenly upon aU activities, upon aU mo
tives, upon all reasons of conductj upon aU calculations
of futurity; and should either be allowed to arrest the
entire machinery of human life, of should be utterly
forgotten and neglected, whenever men are called to
act and feel as rational and moral beings.
We deny, then, that the question concerning moral
causation is one belonging to religion or Christian doc
trine; because Christianity — the only existing religion —
is, in the mode of its reaching, us— -in the ^subject mat
ter of its communication — in the motives which it pre
sumes to exist, and in the entire apparatus of its influence, •
part and parcel with the common material of human
life; and is no more dependent upon the resolving of
any metaphysical problem, than are th^ most vulgar in
terests, of commerce, or poHtical institutions, so de
pendent.* It enters into the very definition of metaphysical
problems — that they are universals^ To bring them,
therefore, down upon an individual instance, to the ex
clusion of other instances of like quality, is the most
enormous of all possible solecisms. To single out
Christianity from the crowd of human affairs and inter
ests, and to assail it, so singled out, with propositions.
* See note M.

45

which, by their very essence, are equally true of all
things, or false of all, is the same sort of'proceeding, as
if a mathematician, after demonstrating the properties
of the triahgle, were , to apply his doctrine only to such
triangles as aye formed by the rafters, and joists of a
roof. If Christianity asks credit on any, principle that is not
recoghised by the customary proceedings of mankind;
or if it demands atiy motives or course pf conduct, for
justifying which we must . appeal tO abstruse theorems;
then it must, of course, be separated from the fellow-
.ship of human affairs, and left to' contend as it can with
every hostile abstraction. But, if none of these things can
be said, is it npt-inost preposterous to involve it at all with
such abstractions? And assuredly it need nOt be impli
cated \^ith the question of necessity; for this, as we
have already said, if determined ifi one manner, is a
perfect evaporation, lea-ving no residuum: or if deter
mined in the other, even though by a seeming demon
stration, ought to be spurned in its assault upon religion;
first, because.it must arrest the entire movements of the
moral and intellectual world, if it would impede any
one class of the.se • movements; and secondly, because,
if it does so interfere, or ' clairiis a right, to disturb an
existing and salutary order of actions and sentipnents, it
stands as a solitary exception among the sciences, all of
which, both abstract and experimental, are found, when
brought to their perfection, and when purified from em
piricism, to ,be of a benign character, and actually come
in to promote and. facilitate those operations which the
uninstructed common sense or the instinctive ingenuity

46
of men had previously set in movement,.* The pro
bability, therefore, that this, pretended demonstration is
a mere sophism, favored' by the abstruseness of the sub
ject, and the vagueness of its .signs, is as a/thousaftd to.
one — or much more thgn a thousand. The .teachers of
Christianity should, vthe.n, 'barely-cast upon doctrines of
this class a smile of contempt; and hold on t-heirvvay,
as men wl^ose business stands upon the .intelligibly
ground of facets and experiment.
The 'more delicate, but not more obscure question,
now meets us, whether- the abstrfictionp of pure meta-;
physics can at all avail, or ought' to be had-, recourse to,
for the purpose of determining those controversies wHich.
arise atllong Christians, va consequence of a different;
interpretation of certain portions of the Document of
Faith, ( . .
Whoever should undertake to answer this question
in the negative, might, if he chose to argue the point
by an appeal to facts, find abundant materials . fitted, toi
his purpose in the whole course of Church history,, com
mencing with the Platonic fathers, and .ending with the
last writers on both gides of the Calvinistic controversy.
Nothing, we say, woald be more easy .than, va this way,
to throw itnmense disgrace upon the venerable practice
of converting. Christianity into a quibble of metaphysics.
But the fruitiessness and inexpediency of this methoti
pf) conducting Biblical controversy might be forcibly
argued alone from the instance of the "Inquiry cpn-?
cerning Freedom of Will." Its acknowledged supe-
* See note N.

47

riority to any theological work with which it might
properly b4 compared — a superiority confessed, as well
By philosophers as. divines — arid its exemption from the
vulgar sins of polemical literature, point it out as an
instance of the -mOst unexceptionable, sort. Yet, vs^hat
ha's been the result? A real and' signal - service, as we
have already granted, has been rendered by it to 'the
cause of important truths;' but the servic.e has accrued
indirectly: while it has litterly failed to bring the con
troversy between Calvinists grid Arminians to a satis
factory issue. — ^The' mstaphysics of Edwards demol
ished the metaphysics of Whitby. This was natural
and fit; for the philosophy, of Arminianism could no
more eridure a rigid analysis, than a citadel of rooks
could maintain its integrity against a voHey of muske
try. And, moreover, the metaphysics of' Edwards im
posed a degree of respect upon' the flippancy of philos
ophers; '• But then (not .again to insist upon the fact,
that the "Inquiry" has become almost the' text book
of' infidelity) 'it has not in any sensible degree brought
home th'e abstract argument to the piirely theological
difficulty. It has left thingsf where they were,' in this
respect, only with the disadvantage- of suggesting a tacit
conviction^that, what Edwards could not effect, can
never be effected. The apparently incompatible propo
sitions may therefore be affirmed, that, while our author,
as the champion ofCalvinismp has achieved a victory^
and driven his antagonists/ from the ground they had
unwisely occupied; be has confirmed and perpetuated
the religious difference, by the mere fact of having fail
ed in his attempt to compose it. Is it, then, at all to be

48
desired that a second philosophic Calvinist* should un
dertake the task of .leading Arminians' on '• the path of
scientific denionStration, to a cOrdial acquiescence in the
plain meaning of certain portions .of the Scriptures?-^
We think not. " ¦ , . '
Nevertheless, it ought not. to be regarded as an im
probable eVent that, pious Calvinists sliould at length
meett pious Arminians on common ground;, and that the
difference between the, two parties should for, ever be
merged in a Biblical doctripe..
But .an accordance so' happy will ' assucedly fc,e the
result, not of the perfection of metaphysical, theology,
but of a better Understanding of the special nature and
unique con^itutiori of the Document of Faith, wliichj
unlike any other writing, is at once simply the wojrk of
human minds; and not Jess absolutely tl\e ¦ work of the
Divine Mind.f As a human vyork — ^is a • collection pf ;
ancient treatises, letters, and histories', comjjpsed by
alrnost as many authors as there are separate, pieces,, - it
.is plainly liable to all the ordinary conditions' of other,^
ancient literature; and notmereLy to the cri&aZ, but to '
the logical conditions that belong to. the products of
the human mind; and of course when tiategorically in- .
terrogated for its evidence, iii relation to certain abstract
positions, derived, not from itself, but from d variable
theological science. Will yield not a few apparent con
trarieties. This would certainly he the case, even wbre
the Bible the work of a single author.
• See note 0. ¦( See note i;.

49

But the Bible claims no respect at all as an authority
in religion, unless it be received as, in the. fullest sense,
a Divine work. As '.such, it must Jiave its peculiar
conditions; and these (or'the most important of them)
spring from the fact, that the Scriptures contain true
information, explicit Or implied, concerning , rnore sys
tems o'f things than one, or more orders of causation
than one. But then this, information bonsists just of
those portions, or sections, or segments, of these sev
eral systems, or of these series of causes, which con
tain practical inferences, important to the special process
of restoring mankind to virtue. It will follow from this
description of the heaven-descended canon of religious.
truth, that the harmony of the various portions will
never come within the ran'ge of the methods of human
science; for human science is drawn from one system
only, and is imperfect and. vague, even in relation to
that one system.*' ' -
Illustrations are always faulty, and always liable to be
perverted; yet' may they, serve a good purpose when
advanced simply as such; and not urged as proofs or
arguments. Let it then be supposed that, to a number
of intelligerit persons, instructed in nothing beyond the
first elements of mathematical science, there were to
be given — not a! diagram or description, but some of
the distinguishing, and. some of the most recondite prop
erties of the three conic sections^-^the ellipsis, the par
abola, and the hyperbola'; and that it were demanded of
them, not only to find curves possessing precisely such
'^ See note Q.

50
properties, but to find one regular, and simple, figure
which should contain the ; three harmoniously upon its
surface. ' Now it must be granted, as hypothetically
possible, that some, one, of thtese persons, either by a
happy accident, or by force of intelligence; might at
length produce the cone, , and demonsttate upon it the
several- propertied of the theorem. But to. make Our
illustration complete, it should be supposed that no such
figure as a cone had ever actually been seen or thought
of, by the persons to vyhom the problem is given. What
then would be theprobable eventi' — May we.not assume
it as likely, that each individual, attaching hiniself by
preference to the properties of some one of the three
propounded curves, and giving his attention almost ex
clusively to its peculiarities, and succeeding, perhaps,.,in
the attempt to. reconcile aniong themselves these separ
ate conditions,''wpuld be incline4 to jmpugri, as neces
sarily false, the . processes by Which his companions
were finding the other two curves; and, being salisfifid
with the soundness of his own reasoning, would deem!
that of his friends absolutely irreconcilable with it. And'*
so it must seem inevitably, until the one true harmonis
ing figure is actually produced.
But„how soon might, a fierce controversy arise among
the perplexed inquirers! How soon would there take
place a separation of the partisans' of the ellipsis, the
parabpla, and the hyperbola! The friends of the first
of the curves would think themselves justified in de
nouncing the hyperbolists as extravagant heretics; while
these, and with equal reason, would hold in contempt
the timidity of the eUipsists. MeanwhUe, the parabol-

51

ists, much admiring ., their own moderation, and not
doubting that it was they who alonp held the happy
middle way upon which truth loves to walk, and hence
believing themselves qualified to act as mediators be
tween the extreirie parties, would gravely say much that
was very plausible, and' exceedingly Nvell intended;, but
would not in fact advance even a single step fbward a
true conciliation of the differJencej — for this simple rea
son — ^that they are just gs far as their companions from
knowing the one actual principle pf explanation. — The
parabpla may seem, but it. is not in fact, or in any de
gree, a reconciling truth between ¦ the ellipsis and the
hyperbola, for the ellipsis and the hyperbola are not at
variance. But the controversy, though it tends to no
satisfactory issue, is producing these two ill consequen
ces (not to mention the excitement of bad feelings among
friends,) namely, that those of the company whose tem
per was the most calm and gceptical, would be haunted
by troublesome suspicions, that he who proposed the
problem had made spdrt of the ignorance of all, by
affirming things strictiy paradoxical. And then the by
standers would almost certainly learn to treat the whole
affair— the problem, its propounder, and the factions,
¦with utter. contempt. But we suppose that at this in
stant the prpppunder enters, and forthwith extinguishes
the feud by the production of the cone! and all contra
rieties are at once reconciled; all suspicions are dis
pelled; and eager dogmatists . of all creeds are put to
the blush! , ^ . ,
To defend the propriety of this illustration in all its
parts would be idle. It is enough if it explains the as-

.52
sertion,. that the Scriptures, because true and divine,
and because that they propound separated parts, prop
erties, or relations of systems not known, will for ever
baffle the attempt to reduce their testimony within the
completeness and rotundity of a. human science. ' If it
be so, it will follow, that metaphysical reasoning, how
rigid and exact soever, is not to be looked to as the
means of adjusting Biblical controversies. That it may
seem, for a while to dp so, is granted; but the specious con
ciliation will either be a mere 'confounding of an antag
onist by forc&.of logical strength; or it will have been
effected by constraining ¦?,ome portions- of thfe scriptural
evidence. ' . ¦ '
We conclude that the question of liberty and neces
sity, or of moral; causation, is one in which Christianity
has no peculiar interest, and from the determination of
which it can neither : derive permanent advantage, nor
receive lasting dapiage.

SECTION ¦ IV.
We proceed tp. inquire in what manner, ' and to what
extent, the question of liberty and necessity belongs to
the Physiology of the Human Mind.
No one w.ould affirm, or indeed could consistently
imagine; that either the idealism of Berkeley, or the
non-causal causation of Hume, or any similar doctrine,
can properly occasion even the smallest difficulty or ob
struction to the chemist who is discovering the affinities

53
of acids and alkalies, or resolvirig earths into their ele
ments. Whether or not there be an external world,
and whether or not it be put in movement by ^cient
carises, it remains true — that Heat is evolved Or absorbed
in the process of a new combination ;^th at sulphuric
acid will change a vegetable blue to' red; — and that
combustion goes on more: rapidly in oxygen gas'than jn
common air. These facts may be mere phenomena of
the world of mind;* or real events in the world of mat
ter;— they may result from efficient' causes, or not so,
with perfect indifference to the .science of chemistry.
And, in like nianner, is if a matter of absolute, indif
ference to the riaturalist, while informing himself of, the
internal structure of animals, or of theii" dispositions,
faculties, and^habits, in what way the systetps,- of ideal
ists, of materialists, of riecessitarian's, or of sceptics, are
disposed of. The stomach, the brains, the bone, of the
dog, the horse, and the camel, will continue just what
they are, whether or not th'bse animals are affirmed to
be mere intellectual phantasms, or are allowed to be
actual existences, and whether or not causation be "an
empty illusion of the fancy," or a connection of power
betweeri successive events. And not less independent
of these speculative doctrines is the inquiry (for in
stance) concerning, the internal process which fills up
the interval of time, or which completes the connection
... . i*'
between an impression on" the senses of an animal, and
the' correspondent movement of his limbs. If it be
asked, What takes place within the cerebral machine
* Principles of Himian Knowledge.
*5

54
when the hawk, from his motionless point in the sky,
discerns his victim in the grass, and descends like light
ning to the earth? — this purely physical inquiry has no
more conriection with the theories of metaphysicians,
than subsists between those theories and any chemical
or mechanical fact.
And, manifestly, thd conditions of physical' science
are not ahered by merely turning from one. class of sen
tient beings to another;— -from the lower to the Higher.r
order of animals, from zoophytes tp reptiles, from quad
rupeds to man. If, fOr exarriple, a scientific inquiry
relates to the anatomy of the visual, organ;, or to the
meWal processes pf perception; or to the combinations,
of impressions from two or more of the senses; or to
the laws and conditions of volition; or to the influence
of animal appetites, or riipral emotions; or to the oper
ation of the reasoning faculty; — all these are matters of
fact, belonging to the actual conformation' of this or of
that animal; and are as strictly physical, and . as abso
lutely independent of metaphysicai dogmas and abstract
truths, as are the* affinities of acids, and the crystalliza
tion of salts. There would, indeed, never have been
occasion, even so much as to affirm this independence
of physics and metaphysics, were it not that the imme
morial practice of confounding the science of the human
mind with pure abstractions, has filled both departments
of intellectual philosophy with absurdity; and has de
tained both,'to the present day, in a state of irifancy.*
* See note R.

56

If it were asked — Of what is the dog or the hoirsje
capable? what may fairly be demanded of them in the
way of service? or of what improvement may their na
tive faculties be susceptible by means of education, by
.rewards, punishments, and instructions? These inqui
ries, simply physical as they are, must be resolved by
observation and experiment; and cannot, even in the
rriost remote manner, be affected by abstract doctrines
of the sort that constitutes ' the greater \ part of what is
termed the "science of mind." Whether the intelli
gence and moral sensibilities of a certain species might
be wrought upop by cukure to a. greater extent than has
:yet been attempted, or. whether it has already reached
its limit of improvement, is a question upon which not
a single ray of light could be thrown, even by the most
complete solution of the problems which fill the pages
of writers on intellectual philosophy. The intellectual
character and capacities of each order of conscious be
ings are matters of faCt; as much so as the fusibility and
malleability of a metal.
In a word, any sort of practical question, relating to
the dispositions, constitutional motives, or proper treat
ment, of this or that species of aninnals, higher or lower,
must be determined in the methods proper to physical
science; and can neither be illustrated nor interfered
with by those unchanging truths which draw not their
materials from the world as it is. Thus, we not only
distinguish the two sciences of physics and metaphys
ics; but affirm their absolute independence one of the
other. And as no inference drawn from the former can
impugn the demonstrations of the latter; so neither can

56
these demonstrations reach, or modify, the actual cori-
forriiation of any of the families of the, sentient world: —
spite of metaphysics, lions, bears, antelopes,, and men,
will go on to feel and,to act as always they have done.
To suppose the contrary, were the same' absurdity as to
imagine that salts will henceforward crystallize in other
angles' than formerly, when it shall be proved' that there
is no such thing, as efficient causation. , .. '
The end of physical science, .is to discover, or lay
bare, the actual constitution of its subject; — not to ex-'
pupge or reject any of the facts belonging to the nature
of that subject. And it should not be forgotten, that as,
in investigations of this sort, the ultimate facts arb al-
' ready in our possession, no very' important ti-uth^ can be
expected to result from even the most complete analysis-
of the phenomena. Science is litde better than a.learn-
ed amusement, when employed in Analysing a mechan-r
jsra, the powers of ivhich are already familiarly hnown,
and the conformation of which is unalterable. — -"This is-
very much the disadvantage of the entire circle of in
tellectual philosoph'y..
If the operation of motives in the human mind, or'if
the laws of human agency, be the-'subject of inquiry,
our business is to explain, if we can, these familiar pro
cesses; not to deny any of their conditions. The sci
ence of' human nature finds man a reasoning' animal,
and 'finds him master of his welfare (to a certain ex
tent,) and finds him a moral and religious being, influ
enced by the anticipation of future events, . and ruling
his conduct by a reference to the opinion and conduct
of other beings. These facts are to be denuded, if it be

57
possible tp denude them; but assuredly not to be reject
ed or overlooked. We may ,describe how the moral
emotions work; but not affirni that there are no such
influences,. The less indulgence should be granted to
the audacity of speculation in the region of mental phi
losophy, because, though its sophisms may dangerously
pervert the common sense of mankind, its truths (ex
cept just so far as they explode such sophisms) have
almost nothing to offer of practical instruction. And if
this be true of the science in general, it is peculiarly so
of that branch of it which treats of the process of voli
tion; — no one would be so fantastic as to expect that
even the most complete anatomy of the voluntary prin
ciple could, in its inferences, be so brought in contact
with the minds of the mass of mankind, as either to
lessen the violence of impetuous passions, or to enhance
the vigor of virtuous emotions. — This truly js not the
style of human nature: — ^man is not constituted to draw
his reasons and motives from the theory of his own men
tal conformation: arid if we would imagine an extreme
instance of intellectual hypochondriasis, it must be the
case of a philosopher, who, whenever he proposed to
move, speak, or act, must first -anxiously consider in
what order, to pull the strings of the intellectual machine.
We grant, indeed, that the philosophy of the agency
of sentient and voluntary beings is a matter of rational
curiosity. But it is nothing more; and of far less con
sequence to the welfare of man, than would be the dis
covery, of a new chemical agent; or of a satellite to the
planet Mars: for the one might facilitate three or four
of the. mechanic arts; and the other would give to the

58
navigator an additional celestial chronometer. But't
perfect and true theory of volition must leave volition
precisely what aly^ays if has been.
Moreover, physical science Is 'distinguished from ab- ,
stract science, both mathematical and metaphysical, in
this important particular, that the processes of the latter
are entirely dependent upon absolute precision in the
use of the signs or terms employed;* so that the small
est inaccuracy disturbs thp whole series of deductions, '
and falsifies the conclusion. 'Hence the confessed, ob
scurity and uncertainty of intellectual philosophy, arising
from the vagueness and variableness of language— ^the
only signs it can employ.. But the processes and' results
pf physical science are happily exempt from any such
disadvantage. For if a fact in the conformation Of an
organised body be ascertained — if it be really known
to the discoverer, it may be expressed or described in
a variety of modes; and, may be spoken of in a- copi
ousness of terms, more or less proper, until there shall
be no danger of mistake on the part of the reader. It
follows hence (when the philosophy of human nature
is treated, as it ought, physically, not' abstractedly) that
that anxious and prudish nicety of language which belongs
to metaphysical discussions, will be discarded with con
tempt. Whatever pretended fact in the philosophy of
mind cannot be correctly communicated, except in one
set of phrases, may safely be rejected as a subtilty,
altogether insignificant to physical science. The mod
ern chemicE^l nomenclature, though it must be regarded
* See note S,

59
as a highly important instrument for facilitating the dif
fusion of the science, and for giving simplicity and pre
cision to the recoM of its discoveries, cannot be deemed
an inseparable or indispensable means of making them
known. The same facts might 'be correctiy described
in any colloquial medium; or might be conveyed to the
minds of a people destitute of the erudition which makes
our Greek and Latin terms intelligible to the English,
French, and Germaris. The same is true of physical
facts. of all kinds; but not of metaphysical truths, which
are precisely — as their signs are.-
The custom of considering the volitions 'and agency
of man as a matter of abstract science, has favored the
supposition, that volition is simple or uniform in its mode
erf springing up'froni the mind.' But if the real world
of sentient beings is looked at, it wiH at once be seen,
both that each species has its peculiar conditions of the
voluntary principle, and that, volition in each species
results, at different times, from very different internal
processes. It would appear,' then, to be the natural
course to look out, first, for the simplest instances of
vghtion; and then to- ascend from them to such as are
complex, and not so readily ari'alysed. This order of
ilivestigation' directs us to the inferior classes of the ani
mal community; it being probable that, in narrowly ob
serving, instances of less complicated organisation, we
shall become insensibly qualified to dissect that which
is rnore 'so. For as we may fairly presume, the more
complicated orders take up into their mental machinery
the elements that have been singly developed in the
lower ranks of existence. It is, indeed, alone on this

60
presumption that we can avail ourselves at all of the*
fruits of observation, gathered from the movements and
habits of inferior species. For it is only by a reference
to our own consciousness, that we interpret such facts;
and this interpretation presupposes the homogeneity of
the elements of sentient existence. \f a pure intelli
gence, or simply rational essence, wholly destitute of .all
appetite, emption, imagination, were to descend into this
world of hungry, thirsty, passionate, irascible, and pleas
ure-loving beings, it would find itself utterly at a. loss in
endeavoring to comprehend the morvements which it
witnessed. That is to say, having no participation of
the elements of the animal and moral nature, it would
want the glossary of mundane life, and possess no means
of interpretation:-^all it saw would be a riddle.
But this is not the case when man looks around him
upon his fellows of inferior rarik; — for, possessing as he
does all the elements of animal and moral life, he dis
cerns very few operations which' he does not at once
know how to translate into the language of his own
nature; and he is thus qualified to philosophise, as well
upon the mental conformation of birds and quadrupeds,
as upon that of his own tribe. We say, he ' witnesses
very few operations unintelligible to him; for there are
movements carried on, especially, by the more minute
tribes, and those that are the most remote from' himself,
which nothing in his own nature enables him to under
stand:^ — they are facts not interpretable by conscious
ness, and are accordingly designated' by a term which
has no other significance than that of standing for a class
of facts not understood. Whatever principle of agency

61

in the animal world is no element of the human con-
StitHtioo, is caUed Instinct.* These inexpHcable facts,
it is TBvident, can afford us no aid in the business of ana
lysing the operations of the human mind; and are there
fore to be excluded from the process of induction.
¦ The inferior orders of conscious beings offer to our
notice two or three distinguishable elements of volition,
togeither with the rude commencements of another, for
the fuU developement of which we must look to the
higher nature of man.
When the huffing gusts of November assail the em
browned forests, it is the amusement of an idle moment
to watch the course of a single leaf, torn from a topmost
bough, and to follow its flight, hurried by eddies of
wind into the fields of upper air — there to perform giddy
circuits — ^the sport of chance; until, borne away by the
general current, it travels west or east, and slowly de
scends to its destined resting-place on a distant spot.
A movement not altogether unlike that of the severed
leaf, driven of the winds, is displayed by the wanton
flight of the swaUow on a tranquil summer's evening: '
and if the atmosphere were not seen to be motionle^,
one might well imagine that the bird, like the leaf, was
passively yielding to every fitful blast. But let the lit
tle aeronaut be brought to the earth, and his structure
examined; and it will become manifest that his move
ments haire sprung from other than external impulses.
We first notice the mechanical apparatus by which the
living machine is held buoyant in the air; and then, by
* See note T.

62
dissection, follow the silvery threads which connect the
merely mechanical parts^the soHd frame-work — and
the contractile fibres, with the head; whereon, also, are
set those instruments which bring the animal into intelli
gent contact with distant objects around.it.. Here, then,
are the means of movement; and the means, also, of
keeping this movement in correspondence with place
and circumstance of the external world. But we still
have to seek the motive, or impulse of movement.
Let, then,, the palpitating bosom be reft, and we shall
find the gastric sack, with its solvent juices and its
peristaltic action; 'and we perceive that it is gorged with
insects, in every progressive stage of dissolution and of
assimilation to the solid and fluid matter of the animal.
We need not doubt, then, that the acrid chemical agent,
which is accomplishing this conversion of the substance
of one animal into that of another, acts also, when not
so occupied, in some such way upon .the sack itself as
to excite an uneasiness, which being conveyed to the
centre of consciousness, and being there conjoined with
familiar imnressions from the external world, and meet-
ing there, also, the springs of muscular irritability, give
impulse to the machine in' the direction towards that
external object, the image of which already exists in
,tiie memory conjoined with the sensations of gratified
appetite. Now, in this dissection of the machine of an
imal life, the relation of parts, and their interaction for
the production of a single result, are perfectly intelligi-'
ble;— as much so as is the mechanism of a watch. But
in the construction both of the watch and of the bird,
there are certam ultimate connections which lie beyond

63

our ken, and which can be known only in their products.
In the watch, these inscrutable facts are — the principle
of elasticity in the springs, and the vis inertice of tlie
balance-wheel. ' That is to say, -the two last causes in
the machine can be traced no further than to a certain
expansive property of steel, and to the universal law of
momentum. In the machinery of the bird, the unknown
or ultimate facts, though more in number, are not in
themselves more recondite or obscure; but just as much
so — ^neither more nor less. They are such as these;
the chemical power of the several fluids; the principle
of muscular contraction; the principle of assimilation
and growth; and the whole cerebral apparatus of sen
sation, and the interaction of sensations from without
and within, producing locomotion, or muscular action.
That is to say, as in the watch, so in the bird, the ar
rangement of parts and functions is intelligible, but the
powers are unknown.
And yet, notwithstanding our hopeless ignorance, in
both instances, of the ultimate connections, we may
safely and certainly reason concerning the proximate
and intelligible parts of the contrivance; and may, with
out being supposed to understand what in all cases lies
beyond human knowledge, affirm that we comprehend
the, mechanism both of the watch and of the bird. The
theory of the regular movement of wheels and indica
tors is truly given when all the parts that connect the
elasticity of the two springs with the vis inertia of the
balance-wheel are described. And in like manner, the
theory of action in the animal is truly given, when the
several correspondences between the stomach, wings,

64

eyes, ears, and brain of the bird, are enumer
ated. But this one account of the movements of the ani
mal machine does not explain all the facts observable ia
the wanton flight of a swallow; for, beside some other
movements, which, likp those already mentioned, are
easily traced home to certain .functions or organs, as
those were traced to the stomach, there are actions not
to be in any such manner explained. It by no means
appears that the littie unlicensed venatpr invariably di
rects his flight towards the nearest or the best-fed gnat
at any moment within his circle of vision; nor that he
is diverted from the pursuit of his victim, only by this
or that assignable object of alarm, or of social attrac
tion: his aerial'gambols are too various, free, and erratic,
to be aU assigned to impulses of this order. It may be
well, however, to turn to another subject in search of
this other law of animal agency^
The young horse that, free a-field, makes large orbits
over the level mead, is neither hunting his prey, nor
flying before an enemy; yet does he put forth his powers
of speed as if death were behind him, or Hfe before.
He stops on his course; snuffs the gale; leaps and plun
ges; snortsi and again darts onward; — in pursuit of noth
ing! Here our consciousness (unless octogenarians) aids
us to interpret the seemingly causeless activity. To the
plenitude of muscular power, and to the full tide' of ani
mal spirits, belongs an appetite asking for movement
and sport; and this same desire, conjbined with othef
impulses, or taking its turn with them, in colts, kittens,
children, and boyish adults, is the cause of a great part

65

of all the hurry and the change which keep the world
from stagnation. — But again; if the gay activity of the
young "horse be narrowly observed, a belief will be sug
gested tiiat his course from side to, side of his pasture —
his capricious pauses, and his starts, obey yet some
other internal law. He bites the grass a moment, —
raises his head, — seems to ponder some freakish device,
and, like the lightning, springs from his place, and is
hardly to be followed by the eye. May it not be sur
mised — and if the manners of animals of all classes
are , 'watched, must it not be believed, that withm the
brain of the animal, (if indeed the brain be the seat of
consciousness) as well as within the brains of men, an
incessant movement is going on;* or a stream of recol
lected sensations, fortuitously connected one with anoth
er, is flowing perpetually? Then these recovered emo
tions, or sensations, meeting, each moment, either with
impressions from the senses, or with desires from the
several viscera of life, form infinitely varied combina
tions of action. Ft is as if this under-current of thought
had been included in the, mental structure of the animal
for^the very purpose of breaking up that uniform, and
mechanical, and calculable succession of movements,
which must needs have resulted from the dull influ
ence of three or four simply reasonable motives of ac
tion. By the means of this exquisite contrivance, which
diversifies, indefinitely, the agency of the animal — the
animal moves over a far larger circle of activity — meets
Tvith a thousand times more new occasions, and comes
* See note U.
*6

66
in contact widi many more means of enjoyment, than
could happen, if he were the mere creature of his
appetites and desires.
In reference to these primary causes of action, name
ly, the desires of animal life, and the irascible, amato
ry, and cautionary emotions that spring from them; and
the love of muscular action; and the suggestions of the
perpetual current of thought; it is to be noted, that-
muscular movement takes place, in the strictest sense,
spontaneously; or, shall we say, simultaneously with its
cause? The cause and effect are not divided by , an
interval of deliberation; there is nO "determining to
determine," nor "willing to will," nor balancing of
reasons. To such instances the metaphysical analysis
of volition, as consisting of a series of mental opera
tions, is utterly inapplicable. We derive the notion of
such an analysis froni a class of volitions essentially dif
fering from animal agency: and it is a gross violation of
the rules of science to extend it to cases with which it
has no affinity.
But the lower classes of the sentient system offer
also to our observation (iri its ruder forms, at least) that
complex order of volitions Which, in the adult and cul- ,
tured human subject, often supersedes thoSe of a simple
and elementary kind. Let us turn from the young horse
a-field, to the old horse in the stable; and we shall find,
in his behavior, many instances of an agency which
implies a mental process of inference; or, the Connect
ing of event with event, and the deduction of a motive
therefrom: or, in other words, we shall find him reason
ing to a certain extent; and acting in a manner which

67

coiild never be accounted for on any of the principles
already mentioned. The hackney who, times innumer
able, has been saddled or collared, when he catches
the footstep of his groom approaching the stable, awakes
from the lethargy in which perhaps he had been stand
ing m front of his rack: and if this lord of his destinies
appears booted and spurred, and lays a hand upon the
saddle and bridle, the provident animal, not doubting
that he is to be led from his stall, to which he may npt
soon return, begins, without loss of time, and with the
utmost possible assiduity, to grind and swallow as large
a stock of the material before him as his powers of mas
tication and deglutition will admit of Now we must
suppose, in this instance, a mental process in some de^
gree complex, or ratiocinative, and one which differs
essentially from that mere association of memory and per
ception which is shewn when the same animal swerves
from his track, and turns aside toward the inn where
heretofore he has been stabled and fed.
Yet is this faculty of mental combination very limited
in the horse; so much so, that (a few extraordinary in
stances excepted)* he scarcely at all conforms himself
reasonably to the new occasions that arise in the course
of the service he renders to man. Let him but entan
gle his fbre leg in the strap or chain of his head-stall,
and he will either stand so shackled until he is lamed,
or will plunge and kick until his strength is spent; al
though, if he were capable of calmly considering the
nature of his embarrassment, he might, by the simplest
* See note W.

68
movement, get himself free from all . difficulty. The
horse, therefore, must he cared for, as an infant, by his
master; and under the circumstances of the artificial
mode of life which he leads as the gdrvant of man,
thwarts his own real welfare in a hundred instances, be
cause be cannot comprehend that connection of cause
and effect on which it depends. He cannot compare,
or simultaneously entertain different ideas; or only in
a very low degree.
Nevertheless, the horse possesses enough of intellec
tual faculty and sentiment to be ¦ dealt with advantage
ously, in the method of praise and blame, of punishment
and reward;* and he actually takes rank in the world
of moral agents, inasmuch as he is sensible to emotions
of shame and honor; and is capable also, in a small de
gree, of governing one impulse by another. A horse
may, therefore', be managed' by means which it would
be utterly absurd to. address to a hen, a goose, a pig, or
an ass. The agency of one class of animals is found
to differ from that of another, by all the amount of an
additional element. And it would be highly unphilo-.-.
sophical to reason concerning the' two as' if they were
one and the same. And here the reader must again ,
be reminded that, whether or not we are able to push
our analysis of these elements as far as we might desire,
we must concede the fact of a diversity in the mental
conformation of different animals, giving to one species
a much wider range of action than is occupied by. anoth
er; and the reader, while he grants this fact, will easily
* See note' X.

69

divine the application that may be made of it to the
human race.
We ascend many degrees on the sceJq of reason, of
moral sensibility^ and of complex volition, when we
turn from the horse to the dog. This intelligent and
sensitive animal, associated, notiby mere accident, with
ipan, but made for his companionship, and not unwor
thily caUed his friend, may be said to stand as an
anomalous instance in the system of sentient beings;
inasmuch as, while in other species (perhaps every
other species) there exists a manifest Correspondence,
or functional equality,* between the mechanical struc
ture of the animal and his mental capacity^ so that any
supposed addition to his muscular implements would be
useless, without more intelligence than he actually pos
sesses: — the dog has more mind than instrument. His
power of reason and his sensibility, _on a thousand occa
sions, and very remarkably, go beyond the range of his
mechanical apparatus. The dog is, in this sense, a
meetJ^ animal; and he is the only one so put to difficul
ty. He could effect much more than he does, both for
himself and his master, if his legs and paws were capa
ble of a greater diversity of movements: yet, perhaps,
we ought rather to consider him as an animal over-
rich in sense, than as an intelligence poor in means.
A good test for discovering the elements of the men
tal conformation of any order of beings, is afforded,
first, by the familiar and unquestionable facts of the
educational treatment which common experience proves
to be applicable to it; and then, by the emotions or sen-
* See note Y.

70
timents which are excited in our minds by its qualities
or dispositions. In this method we employ, as it were,'
a chemical agegt for bringing to 4ight a concealed in
gredient. The dog' is the subject of abundantly more
education, and is the object of far more sentiment than
the horse; not arbitrarily or accideritally so; but be
cause he possesses more intellectual faculty, and
more sensibility. His senses are eminently acutej
his memory is retentive and exact; his passive
power of acquiring habits is great; and, to complete
his mental endowments, he is able, in a considerable
degree, to hold in combination more than two or t-hree
connected ideas; and among them to select the proper
inference from the antecedents. Thus qualified, he
remembers his master's usages; comprehends his, mas
ter's operations; and acts his part in accomplishing his
master's intentions. Then, as a moral being, he is sus
ceptible of so lively and pertinacious an attachment to
individuals; he has so much sense of duty and of honor;
and is capable of so intense a wretchedness under the
sense of ill conduct and merited displeasure — that he
becomes properly the object of correlative sentiments
of affection, complacency, or displeasure, ,in the human
mind. The dog, in virtue of his personal character, or
his individual dispositions, is, apart from all sophistica
tion or extravagance, regarded with feelings which it
would be as unreasonable to restrain, when so called
forth, as" to bestow in the same degree upon any other
species of domestic animals.
And yet the dog is limited in his range of mental
faculty arid of sensibility; and, in comparing his powers

71

with those of man, we discern the more clearly the
foundation of that different treatment of which the higher
nature is the subject;— and discern, too, the ineffable
absurdity of the metaphysical doctrine which assumes
the agency of men, of brutes, and of machines, to be
one and the same thing. The dog, not endowed with
that mexplicable faculty which prompts the beaver to
construct for himself a hut; or the white ant to erect
a cathedral of mud; or the rook to weave for his
family an aerial tabernacle, — has no rational power
of attaining a similar result. If deprived of his com
fortable kennel, he wiU nestie in a corner, or edge him
self into a rick; but never attempts (though loose ma
terials of all sorts are lying about) to construct a house.
He feels that a Wall, or fence, or stack, gives him pro
tection from rain and wind; but he does not separate
this common quality of the wall, fence, or stack, from
the particulars in which it is found; or think of it ab
stractedly; and therefore does not conceive of it as re
siding in a new combination of matter, to be assembled
by himself Or, to exhibit the same limitation of fac-
culty under another condition. The dog may learn
to take a penny to the shop, to deposit it on the counter,
and, with significant gesture, to demand his roll. But
the most laborious endeavors would, probably, fail to
teach him the equity of the relation between two pence
and two rolls, and three pence and three rolls. Nor,
supposing that he had dropped one of the pieces of
money on the way, would he draw for himself the in
ference, that he must, therefore, content, himself with
one roll the less. And yet a very young child would

72

perceive these relations, and deduce these ipferences;
or would, at least, understand them instantaneously, or
as by a flash of intelligence, when explained to him.
The want, or, at least, the extreme limitation of the
power of abstraction, and of comparison of complex
relations, affects, in an essential manner, the moral con
stitution of these inferior species; even of the most in
telligent of them. And the possession' of such powers
gives to man his responsibility, invests him with the anx
ious prerogative of being master of his destinies; and,
in a word, transfers him from the present to a future
system of retributive treatment.
But we must advance by degrees towards our con
clusion. The more sensitive species of animals, espe
cially the dog and the elephant, enter within the pale of
the moral system, or stand at its threshold (just as, in
virtue of their sagacity, they enter within the pale of the
intellectual,) by their susceptibility of elementary emo
tions, which place them, to a certain' extent, in commu
nication with man, and render them the objects,. individ
ually,, of his moral sensibilities. And the parallelism
between the intellectual and the moral difference be
tween man and the brute 'holds entire. T^he dog, and
the elephant wiU do any thing that comes within the
range of association of ideas; or of the simplest codt
nections of cause and effect:— but not more. ' And, in
like manner, are they open to the keenest emotions of
gratitude, shame, revenge. Yet do we soon touch the
boundary of their moral capacities. The elephant has
his direct emotions, and is retentive of them; but he
does not abstract the quality which has so strongly af-

73
feeted him from the act. or persori to which it belongs:
— he is conscious of that difference'' in temper which
distinguishes one of his keepers' from appther^ apd treats
them both accordingly; but he idvtns no' separate idea
of goodness and malignity; much less compare's such
abstracted ideas with his own .correlative- emotions; and
therefore he digests.no complex notion of virtue'and
of vice. As the. inevitable eohsequencp of this defir
ciency of -faculty, neither (he dOg nor the elephant cog
itates upon his own diapositions. Or personal character;
or ever, institutes a mental compalisori betweeri' his own
behavior or habitual temper, and any such-'notion of a
moral, quality. Therefore, -neither dog nor elephant
Condemns or dislikes himself; much less conceives the
abstract idea of a better disposition as -an Object of de
sire: and, therefpre, never atteippts the work of self-
education, by repiressirig ill feelings, ' and -favoring the
better. . ' ¦ ¦ ; ^ ¦
Accordingly, a self-originated reformation; of manners
is never looked -for from tlie" brute. He may indeed
be amended in his dispositions by external treatment;
— he may become more or less bland or tractable^ in
consequence of changes in .his constitution or diet; but
he never, changes in consequence.of a mental prbcess,
bringing two abstract qualities .into .Comparison^ and al
lowing the one' to. be chosen and -followed, while the
other is hated arid avoided. — If it.be asked, on what
ground we infer these deficiencies of internal structure
in the hi-ute mind; we reply, that the internal defect may
fairly be implied from the .absence of the proper out
ward results of the supposed faculty. In follpWing
7

74

even the most sagacious animal through his movements
in connection with ,new arid artificial occasions, we
catch him at fauk, precisely for the wapt of the powe|
of abstraction: the internal structure, though recondite,
is as good as laid bare in such' instances; and we cease
to wonder, that a being so deficient should aot provide
for his welfare by artificial means. .
And the very same -deficiency necessitates his moral
condition; .and (knowing il) though wb feelcOm-plaCency
of' displaoency. towards .the dog or the elephant, accord
ing to his dispositions,' we neither ' assign to him the
praise of Virtue, in the one case, nor itppute to him the
blame of vice, inthe other. The animal that does not
observe proportions, nor . use instruments, nor construct
machines, ¦ does - not, for the same reason, turn or ¦ re
model his oWh character; — does not, in any degree, edu
cate himself Virtue, -vice, praise, blame,' law, govern
ment, retribution, are proper condition's of the existence
of a being who, by his use oi arbitrary signs, by his
employment of complicated means, and; . by his conver-
gions of the powers of' nature to his particular advan
tage, makes it evident that be possesses a faculty which,
in connection ^with his moral sensibilities, renders vir
tue, vice, praise; blame, law, government, retribution,
the true correlatives of his nature.
The sophism which would sever virtue, vice, praise^
blame, law, _ governipeftt, retribution, from the 'human
nature, contains an absurdity of 'precisely the same de
gree as myst belong to an argument that would .attach
these conditions to the brute. It were a whim of the
same order, to look for arts' and accomplishments

75

among tigers, kites, sharks, as not to look for tiieni
among men; and it is nonsense of the sarne magnitude,
to deny that the being who builds, plants, writes, and
calculates, cannot work upon his , own dispositions,
or, in other words, is not blame-wprthy; as to affirm
that tigers, kites, and. sharks, miglrt, if they so pleasr
ed, convert their natures, and become more "amiable,
arid less rapacious, than hitherto^ they have shewn them
selves. '' While instituting a physical Comparison of this
sort, in M^hat light. We may ask, appear^ that- abstract
doctrine which would measure men and worms; by the
same Standard? we may surely" say, that, though- affirm
ed to be demonstrahly'certain as an abstraction, it is a
nullity when brought into contact with the real world.
The demonstrations of mathematical science, when
applied either to earth or heaven, fit all things, and cor
respond to all;^ — the one class of truths works glibly
'with the other; and we confess, with an emotion of de
light, the presence of that harmony, which is the test
of universal truth.* But when metaphysical abstrac
tions, of a certain order, are attempted to be dove-
ta'Jed upon the actual constitution of nature, the one
set of principles calls the other fool, and both utterly
refuse to ctoklesce.

section v.

The conjunction of the higher ele,ments of intel
lectual and moral being with the common ingredients of
* See note Z.

,76
aninial life,, is beaPtifuUy ; developed to the eye that,
with philosophical attention, observes'- the growth and
expansion of the human mind .from infancy to man
hood. Nature, in preparing to bring upon -tiie theatre
of the world so noble an agent as man, steps back,
that she may take the bolder- leap, and reach a higher
stage. M:an, throughout the period, of his infancy, is,
as an ag&nt, helow zero; Though launched as a sep'
arate being in the vyprld, he is still an embryo, and
exists pnly within the, coil pf maternal vigilance. It,
cannot be doubted -that the .perceptions ' of the htiman
infant are mPre confused and illusory than those of the
young of animals; apd probably- arnount to-, nothing
more (during the first six or eight weeks) than vague
sensations, conveying no knowledge of the : external
world. His instincts al^o are few, and less determinate.
than those of other new-born animals; and his muscu
lar power, far .from being copimensurate with his weight
and b.ulk, is a mere demerit of action, which remains
yet to be developed. But the develppement of this
necessary power commences at pncej and. .seems to be
effected by the constitution of an immediate 'and inva
riable connection between the muscular excitability and
every ^en^ation. that effects the conscious principle,.
whether arising from internal organs,, or frotb impres--
sions on the senses. The babe is, while waking, a
machine of perpetual rpovement,' in' a greater or less
degree; and it is riot difficult to trace the movement, in
each instance,. Ip spme passing sensation. To affirm
that such acit/'ons (if so they maybe termed) have in
them the conditions of agency as described by meta-

77
physicians, were most preposterpus. — There is no voli
tion, in any intelligible sense of the word; nothing but
the simple fact of muscular contraction, as an immedi
ate sequence upon' sensation. This priinary element
of agency holds a continued, but diminishing, force, to
the latest period, and when other elements take the lead;
and it maintains the animal activity in a way that might
be compared to the use of a fly-wheel in a machine.
Thus at once are' the muscles brought into play, exer
cised, and strengthened, and taught to pbey, instantane
ously the mind ^ The strivings, of the arms and legs,
the turning of the head, the cries, the smiles, give. to
the little scholar hig lesson, until fatigue prevails; and
all the forces of the system are- sent in upon the invol
untary muscles and. the secretirig organs.*
The distinction commonly made ^between voluntary
and involuntary muscular adtion, is clearly ' founded
upon a real difference. ,' But when this physiological
distinction is conjoiried with the tnetaphysical descrip
tion of voHtipn, as a mental process, Cpnsisting of suc
cessive parts, ' it' gives rise to a false supppsition; and
suggests the belief that all movements not involuntary,
are effects of rapidly. Conducted, deHberations and de
terminations, are orders 'in council., That complex
process which, even in the adult,' take? place only on
special occasions', when antagonist motives- are in con-
flict-^as.when prudential, or .moral considerations are,«
wre'stlipg with desires, is assumed, as the model dt large
of all the acts of the niind. But if we fix an attefl-
' * See note A A. >
*7 '

78

tive eye upon the preparation which nature is making
in the first months of life for bringing the machine, into.
full. pFay,' we shall discern no evidence 'whatever of any
such deliberative oper'ation; and, on the ''contrary, shall
be led to thitik that the main business of infancy is the
formation ' apd cultivation of that habit of- the animal
system which places its movements in immediate con
tact with the sensations and emotions of thcmind. This
habit (to the foi-matiori of which tfa,e first two years of
life are , allotted) is" the broad foundation of agency,
upon which is slowly to be reared the secondary habits,
which may at length become principal' and predom
inant. ' , ' r
At a very early period the agency pf the infant is
enriched and extended,, by the .developement of the two
correlative emotions, which, in their piultiform combi
nations, are afterwards to constitute -the moral life.
Nature is eminently conservative in all her operations;
and, in the insta'nce'Of the human infant, is seen to
make timely provision for its safety and cOmfort, in a
double methpd; As soon as (indicated by the intelli-
gpht movement of the eye) external' objects are dis-
cerne4 as such,—— as soon as the perceptions of touch.
and' sight are well corpblned, andjpeMoW'distitiguished;
evidence also, is given tliat the sensation of animal en
joyment, and the elementary delectations of the'senses
of sight and hearing,- pass out — or shall we say' cluster
— around that familiar object, and conc'omitant of ail
pleasure— the mother; and awaken an emotion, not to
be analys'ed, of coniplacency, which, as afterward tu^
tored and informed, assumes the name of love, and is

79

the primary constituent of the moral life. It need not
be said in what way the developeriient of . th'is emotion
secures the weUbeing. of the infant, so far as its well-
being depends upon maternal vigjlaiiee.
But . this single conservative means does not ade
quately meet aU the occasions that arise in this world
of perils. It is a universal truth, affirmed by the ele
gant Greek, that nature has given weapons to all her
children; —
And he might have added — to the human infant smiles
apd cries. Not merely are pains and uneasiness in
stantly and involuntarily made known by one of the
most. awakening and disturbing of all sounds, but an
emotfon is engendered • which is the antagonist of the
one already mentioned, and which, like that, (though
at a much later era)* attaches itself to particular exter
nal objects; and when so attached, is called resentment.
This feeling, whatever ill consequences may result from
its excess, is manifestly a conservative element pf life;
and actually operates to secure -the, habitual watchful
ness of the nurse or mother, who is fain, to prevent or
divert its excesses. The intelli'gent mother (or which
is the same- thing) the . affectionate and instinctively
'sage, mother, uses her skill iricessantiy, as manager of
the. two elementary and antagonist principles of the
moral life; and, by avoiding, as far as possible, to excite
* See note B B.

80
feh'e. irascible emotion, and by giving the. fullest play to
the loving principle, she. strengthens, the latter by all
the force of habit, and deprives the forriier.of the cor
responding advantage. , Thus the ends of nature are
sec'ired; thoXigh^one of her means of preservation is
superseded,. or is confined within 'the narrpwest limits.'
. That devfelopemenfof (he reasoning faculty, and that
power of complex thouglit, which are the grounds of
intelligent 'and responsible agency, are.nof apparently
developed, even in the loWest degree, until -some time
after the hibits both of the. aiiimal and the moral life
have become firmly settied.. ,
Mobility i' elasticity, promiTtitude, as the condition^ of
muscular action, and the, custom of the mental opera-r
tions,' get-the .start Of the delibe'rative .fax;uhies; 'arid ,so
possess themselves by usage of the- physical and intel-
lectu-dl being', that they hold through life: their priority;
and, whatever power reason may at length acquire,, man
acts teri, thousand, times' in the. simple, elementary, or
spontaneous mariner which he learns iri infancy, for
once that he acts in the mariner which metaphysicians
describe when they analyse the proce'ss of volition.*
-It IS not until the':poWer of locomotion has put the
littlepupil of nature in trust," to !a certain extent, with
his own preservation, and when, as its 'Consequence, he
is brought hourly into n'gw circumstances, that the first un
questionable develpperpent of reason ma-y be observed.
By this time usugl sequences of events begiri to fix
themselves coptteg'tively in the memory, and give birth
* See note C'C.

81

t6 the expectation of like results from like antecedents.
Then follows (aided by , the: imitative principle, to a
greater extent than perhaps we , imagine) the employ
ment pf means for the attamment of an end: — and the
occas'^ons which give exercise to this incipient work of
reason are presenting, themsfelves every moment. About
the sanie.era, the growing use of language, and espe
cially of its, adjectives^ generates and favors the pro
cess of abstra,ctiou; and the sounds good, nice, pleasant,
sweet,, firie, light, dark, white, red, green, blue, hard,
soft, high, low, he. so fix themselves in the memory
in connection with qualities, as to admit of sejunction
from their concretes; and are all, with many others,
very soon actually employed by the tiny metaphysician,
in. a planner which makes it unquestionable that the
meptd machine is fast getting all' its wheels,.one after
another, into movement.* ¦ . '
It would be curiouS and entertaining,- if not instruc
tive, to trace, by a. series of exact observations; the
irifluence of language (and other signs) in eliciting oi^
hastening that last expansion .of the minil, which im
parts tp it a .deliberative power; or which constitutes
man a, voluntary agent m the higher sense of the term;
and which, in its. matured state, carries him to an im
measurable distance beyond the inferior species of sen
tient beings., Daily, hourly, occasions arise in that
world of comm(57icemen<«— ^the ' nursery, whereon the
hasty strides of desire, are arrested by maternal vigi
lance, arid other motives placed before' the mind; and
* See note D D.

82
antagonist considerations urged upon it^ attention. Here
begins, the procdss of coniplex y'oHtiori:^at the mo-
ment.of'its commencemerit the being sets foot upon k
course that has no limit, is translated, from the lower
world of animal life, into the ' higher sphere of rational
and moral existence; — is introduced to the community
of responsible agentS; and takes up his heirship of an
interminable destiny..
Language is the instrument employed in awakening
this hitherto dormant faculty/ But when orice aroused,
and. jn some degree strengthened by use-, the law of
association, (or suggestion): also calls it, into exercise;
and continues throughlife to do so; except in instances
in which such associations are obliterated,' or sppersed-
edby long, habits of vicious indulgence. The Condi
tion of the accustbnjed. sensualist is, in the view of 'Sci
ence, a true infancy of the mind. Many . accidents,
also, bring such pf The.iJesires as are purely sensual or
selfish intp opposition, rendering. the gratification of the
one incompatible with that of the other: — ^the two stand
in conflict for a moment or more: and whether the final
decision be better or worse, the ipind is by the. mere
contestation exerci.sirig its faculty of complex thought;
arid not improbably admits, during the inoments of
hesitation; many pther considerations of a prudential
or moral kind, .which, even if they do npt prevail,
enlarge the power :6f mental comprehension, and
comparison.* . .-
From this time fprWard (and according to the excel
lence or deficiency of the moral education he receives,)
* See note E E.

83 I
the human infant acts in a considerable proportion ol
instances deliberatively.' As a consequence, of this
new mode of agency,' the association or suggestion of
ideas becomes so modified (especially where education
does its work efficientiy,) as that it obeys, to a great
extent, the laW of real or rational connection, in the
place of thai of mere juxta-position; "and brings for
ward, like a, faithful and intelligent niinister, those con
siderations or emotiops which properly belong to the
immediate occasion. This expansion of the mind makes
itself apparent, though somewhat latef, by the devel
opement of the inventive faculty; and the littie mechan
ism, soon after the time When he has taken rank among
responsible agents, is' seen, by the exercise of the very
same faculties of abstraction and of complex thought,
to form conceptions of an end or design, and to select,
from among the stores of suggestion, the fittest means
for its attainment. ' These 'nearly simultaneous pheno
mena deserve especial attention, as they illustrate each
other; and, if duly considered. in conjunction, would
dissipate much of the. obscurity which metaphysical sci
ence has shed over the physiology of man.
We should here notice that change in the sentimenfs
of those around it, which insensibly accompanies the
developement, as already described, of the infant mind.
Even! before it has ' taken place, the infant has made
hira'self the object of fondness and complacency, or of
displacency,f in various degrees, according to his per
manent dispositions or individual character; andj before
he is blamed or applauded, is loved, more or less, not
only with a love of general benevolence, and not only

84

with the instinctive parental yeayning of nhe heart; but
with a specific feeling which (allowing always, for the
susceptibility b( the subject of it) is related to the qual^
ities of the object as directly and irifalHbly, as the mer
cury 'of the thermonieter 'is related' tp 'the temjperature
about it. It is of no avail . for nieta'physicians to de-
hioostrate that such correlative feelings are, unreasona
ble, unjust, and absurd: the physiologist finds' them an
inseparable and universal ingredient of Bpman nature;
and thinks himself entitied to presume that they aire
founded, in the reason of things, even though he should
not be able to demonstrate so much; and, at all events,
he clearly discern^ that these irivoluntary emotions are
the great Conservative i principles of the, mor,al world,
and could not be obhterated without reducing that world
to horrible confusion. , But happily there is no danger
of any such prevalence of .sophistical. philosophy as
should unhinge the ctfpr^e' of nature, A very few
minds excepted, and these already diseased — it vpillre-'.
main triie, that gentieness, meekness, capdor,, kindness,
will excite. affection; While , irascibility, sullenness, ob
stinacy, and malignant acerbity, will as certainly draw
towards the subject. of -them, dislilce and repugnance.
This happens, w6 say, before' the era of thp uriques-
tibnable^ developement , of the ;power . of self-govern
ment, and before the Child is pVopSrly deemed praise
worthy or blamable,. oir amenable to, law.' But after
• this importarit change has manifestly taken place, a cor
responding change is insensibly effected in the :conduct
and sentiments of those arpund him.

85

In the first place, his particular actions are approved
or blamed, on the tacit principle that, now, by the ex
pansion of his faculties, it has become the law of his
mental operations, that,, in the moment of action, the
several antagonist motives that should' influence action,
were, with more or less distinctness,, presented to the
mind, in consequence of previously formed associations.
The agent, therefore, is deemed to have made his
choice, for the bptter or the worse, from among alter
natives; and it were to degrade him from the rank to
which he has attained, to suppose that, like the inferior
orders of the animal world, he did but obey a single
impulse, or sensation.
This is not all: — the agent is supposed to have made
his choice, for the better or the worse, in this particular
instance, according to his habitu'dl dispositions; and the
action is approved pr blamed, not only as an insulated
fact, but as an indication of character. And then, again,
this character is the object, not only of complacency or
of displacency, but of approval or of blame. The
character is approved or blamed on the very same
tacit principle (differently applied, and further extend
ed) which is the ground of the approval or blame of
particular actions, namely, that ,the nowrexpanded fac
ulty of the agent enables him, at once, to form abstract
notions of moral qualities — ^to compare such notions
with the sentiments they excite in His own mind, and in
the minds of others — to institute comparisons between
his own dispositions and the dispositions which he ad
mires or condemns in others; and, finally, to make his
dispositions the subject of a process of self-education.
8

86
That^so much as this is supposed, and is presumed
to be true, by mankind geperaHy, ,and is estabhshed by
universal experience, is shewn by the threefold treat
ment that is adopted with the view of amending the
condiict and dispositions,, both of children and adults.
First, rewards and punishments are employed for in
suring right determinations in particular instanced of
conduct. This is done on the strength of the well-
known fact, that the law of associa.tion will, on the next
occasion, present to the mind of the agent the corisid-
eration of good or ill consequence to result to him'self,
as the fruit of his behavior; and this consideration rnay ¦
actually avail (as often in fact it does) to counteract the
most vivid selfish desires. Secondly, it is usual to
attempt to amend the dispositions and the character by
an external management of the exciting causes of the
various emotions, and passions, and appetites. This
management constitutes a great and most important part
of the business of education; and should also receive
much more attention than hitherto it h^s done, from
legislators, and public iristructors, and guardians of the
people.* ¦
These two methods are appHcable, as ,We have be
fore said," in an inferior degree, even to animals — to the
horse, the dog, the elephant. But the third method
of treatment is exclusively proper to human nature;
and its propriety rests upon the fact, that the human
mind includes an element of action not granted to the
brute. It is, we say, common tp endeavor to awaken
'* See note F F.

87

in the mind the desire of amending or reforming itself —
that is, its habits and settied _dispositions. This attempt
differs from the second method, or the management of
dispositions by external means; and it proceeds upon
the known and familiar fact, that an introverted effort
of the mind does actually, and often, and under a great
variety pf circumstances, take place. We are not ob
liged to shew hOw these facts consist with certain me
taphysical prjncijilep, or with certain theojogical doc
trines: it is enough that we know them to be recorded,
passim, on all pages of the history, of man; and that
they belong to his physiology. ¦ ,By all means, let the
mental- process be analysed, if it be possible to do so:
but, if not, it nevertheless stands among things known
and acknowledged by all mankitid.*
It is, we say, known to be the usage of the human
mind, to make its own acts and dispositions the subject
of its meditations, and that these m.editations enkindle
emotions of the same kind with those excited by the
view of sipiilar. acts and dispositions in other men — and
that to these generic emotions is superadded a specific
feeling, more intense thari the- first, and which borrows
its force from the principle of self-lOve, and takes its
quality from that of the contemplated act or disposition,
becoming either complacent or displacerit: in the latter
case bringing with it emotions of shame, fear, and re
morse. It is, moreover, proper to the human mind to
conceive abstractedly of a mode of action, or a style of
character, better than its owji; and to assume that con
ception as a permanent object of desire. In conse-
* See note G G.

88
quence of such a desire, a tendency towards it, more
or less strorig and uniform,, takes place. In this man
ner, amendments, reformations, and even complete rev
olutions' of character, are every day occurring in the
human system. It should here be stated, that those
deteriorations of character, which are also . continually
going on in the same system, do not come about by a
corresponding process of the mind, or as the result of
a conception of vicious qualhies, and a consequent- pur
suit of them; but arise simply from the unresisted pro
gress of sensual or malignant passions, which, by indul
gence, become at length paramount habits.
If it were demanded to analyse more strictly the first
movements of this mental process of self-education, it
would seem the most auspicious method to turn from
the moral operation,' which has been enveloped in mys
tifications; and to examine ¦ the corresponding intellec
tual operation, wherein the mind holds to a certain ab
stract quality, pursues it, . notwithstanding a thousand
disturbing causes, through a long and intricate series of
relations, and actually attains its ultimate conception. It
is in such operations that the human mind displays its
vast superiority to the most sagacious of the brute
tribes, and proves that it can soar with. a steady wing
far above the region of' mere animal impulses, pf acci
dental' associations, and of all-determining causes, ex
cept such as lead it toward the high ground of unchang
ing Truth. Now this intellectual operation runs par
allel With the moral operation of self-education; and the
one may be takento iUustrate or explain the other.*
* See note H H.

89
Whether this distinguishing faculty which divides
man from his fellow-sentient beings. by an immense in
terval, must be regarded a? inscrutable — like the ulti
mate properties of matter; or whether (as is probable)
it admits of being separated into its components, is not
highly important, even to physiology; and is scarcely,
in the remotes! manner, significant to rnorals or religiop;
since the fact of its existence is familiarly known; and
this fact is enough for all practical purppses. The sim
ple and intelligible, interests of ethics and> theology have
no more connection with -such a scientific analysis, than
have the labors of the mechanician with an explanation
(could it be given) of the law of gravity.
It can hardly be necessary to state the well-known
fact, that this power of introverted action, which, ,by
emphasis, may be termed, the excellence pf human na-
tureVis liable to lie absolutely dormant, for want of ex-
citemerit; — just as the fellowrfaculty of abstraction also,
lies dormant, or neariy so, among barbarous tribes; and,
moreover, that it is- exposed to much damage, and may
at length be quite enfeebled,' by a course of vicious in
dulgences^ Man, we say, may either lis inert, beneath
the level of .his proper destiny; or, which is a more
melancholy case, he may fall below that level: he, may
revert to the moral imbecility of infancy; he may sink
into an abyss, where he grovels hopelessly, and is less
estimable than the brute; nay, must be content to share
sentiments of loathing with the hog, or the hyaena. Sad
condition this of necessity! — miserable ruin and decay
-of tlie noblest structure!* * See note I I.
*8

90

It should also be remembered, that/ apart from any
theological principles, if the actual condition of human
nature be contemplated. purely as a matter of physical
science, it mpst be admitted to have sustained, from
whatever cause, a universal damage, or shock; inas-!
much as its higher faculties do not, like the faculties of
the inferior classes, work invariably, or .work auspicious
ly; but are often, and in a vast proportion of instances,
overborne, defeated, and destroyed; or they lie abso
lutely dormant; while, in no instances, dp they take that
fuU, free, and perfect course, which is abstractedly
proper to them. ' We may, if we please, compare this
physical, fact with certain principles of theology, and
may derive from the comparison a confirmation of our
religious belief But this is a matter- riot pertinent to
our immediate purpose.
And now, if we must indeed bring those ill-ch'osea
and ill-fated /words, liberty and necessity, to bear upon
the physiology of the sentient world, all .that is proper
to be said' may be comprised in a very few words. — -It
is manifest, then, that in passing on from mechanical
and chemical to animal agencies, we are not passing
from infallible to fallible sequences, rior from causation
to contingency, nor from necessity to liberty (as the op
posite of necessity.) The transition is of altogether
another sort; namely, from a less complex system of
causation, to one that is more so. But the one system
is as truly causal' as the other, — or else neither is
at all so: both are necessary, or neither is necessary;
both contingent or neither. If the one system may be
foreknovra, so may the other — or neither:^ — if there be

91

any fortuity in the universe, the universe is a chaotic
mass of fortuities. Nevertheless, the distinction of more
or less complex, is an important one. The course of a
bullet propelled by gunpowder from a musket, piay
readily, and with great precision, be calculated, for it
is determined by a few known powers and laws. And
so is the course of a bullet that is violently shaken in a
canister: indeed, in this instance, there is a power or
two the less to be- included in the . calculation. But,
who would attempt to forecast the thousand successive
reverberations of the ball from the sides of the canister,
even though it were agitated in the most exact ^md reg
ular manner; much less if it were shaken by the hand?
Yet is that track, though not to be calculated by human
faeukies, as strictly the consequence of the combined
laws of impulse and gravitation, as. is the course of a
buUet shot from a gun; and if the one may be calcu
lated .hj human, intelligence, the other might also be
foreknown by super-human faculties. Every one is
aware that the application' of the word chance to the
course of the ball in the canister, is a mere colloquial
impropriety. The complexity of causes is vastly increased' when
we turn to the animal world;^-so increased, that all
Awman. calculation is utterly set at defiance. Even if
we knew aU the external circumstances of an animal,
at a given moment, and aU his sensations of aphysical
kind, we could not know the succession of mental states
which each moment combiries itself with the passing
impressions and desires: nor, if we did know this also,
could we calculate those combinations. We therefore

93
can merely forecast probabilities, in regard to the
movements of animals; but can never set a foot upon
the solid ground of certainty. A calculation of causes
so many and so intricate, must be assigned to an intel
ligence immensely greater than that of man. Every
riew power that is admitted into A complex machinery,
tends, of course, to multiply the variations of its move-
m'ents; and so to rendeir a calculation of those move-
rrients more voluminous or difficult; yet not to render
them at all less causal, or more fortuitous.
But this general principle is open, to an important'
e:^ception; — to wit, if the new and superadded power
be of a paramount or commanding sort, it will simplify
the movements, rather thari complicate them, and bring
them more within the range of calculation: instances
may easily be adduced in which the agencies of higher
and more complex, natures are-far more simple and
.invariable than those of inferior beings. An- example
or two wiU illustrate this statemem. — The mental ma
chinery of the adult Contains more m-ovements, is more
complex, than that of the infant:' new 'faculties have
come into play; the materials of intellectual action have
been vastly augmented;' and many susceptibilities'have
been quickened, which are dormant or non-existent in the
ipfant. But the mere combination of internal and external
impressions renders the agency of the infant absolutely
incalculable (to the human mind;) whereas the agency
of the adult, though open to a hundred times, more in
fluences, is often simplified by the predominance of
some one or two of its powers. As, for instance, a
vehement animal desire, or a ruling mental passion, long

93

indulged, sets through die soul like an impetuous cur
rent, and gives a high.degree of uniformity to the con
duct. Or a similar uniformity and simplification niay
result from the predominance of virtuous eipotions. Or,
again — and this is an instance of die most "significance
— ^that very expansion of the intellectual faculties which
itriparts the greatest org'amc complexity to the machine,
does, at the same time, when it reaches its perfection,
restore (if We may so speak) to the operations of the
mind the most absolute simplicity. Truth is one; and
it is the glory and perfection of the intellectual nature
to perceive that oneness: and in proportion as truth is
so perceived, and embraced, and delighted in, the
agency of the being will become more simple, and cal
culable, and will lose its character of variableness. The
same is true of the perfection of moral faculties; and it
may, as a ge"neral principle, be affirmed, that perfection
in all orders-, and of all kinds, tends, with equal steps,
towards simplicity, uniformity, and constancy.
And yet what, it may be asked, is gained by apply
ing to this simplicity or constancy, which, is the char
acter of perfection, the term necessity? There is a
sense, unquestionably, in which it may he so applied;
but it must be called one of the most infelicitous, and
ill-omened of all pedantic perversions so to do. We
gain, it is true, the poetical conception of an awful, in
visible goddess, stern in feature, inflexible in temper,
and implacably despotic, who rules the universe, and
who vouchsafes no other reply to supplicants,- than the
monotonous response — "Whatever is, must be." Apart
from this poetry of metaphysics, nothing is more simple

94

than the certain connection between perfect intelligence,
and the perception of a truth presented to it. Who
would wish to be endowed with a freedom from this
sort of necessity? To whom is this kind of despotism
galling, or intolerable? To none, surely, but to mad
men and fools. Npr can any but the debauched covet
that other species of liberty which excuses from the
moral necessity of taking always the road . pf virtue.
To be bound by this necessity is the true liberty;, and,
in fact, as We approach to the high ground of intellec
tual and moral perfection, liberty and necessity merge-
in one and the same condition; and he is the most npfely
free, whose reason arid whose volitions are the most
invariable and uniform; or, to use- an iniproper term,
are the most imperatively necessary. ,
Whoever revolts from this unipn, anct would court
rather, a mode of. agpncy as far removed as possible
from certainty, and from calculable sequency-^— an
agency in this improper sense free, should look for it,
not in the heavens, but upon earth, and among tlie most
infirm of its tribes. He should put off the man, and
revert to infancy; and should plunge among the eddies
of ignorance and folly. There he will find a liberty' to
follow the ten thousand paths of error, instead of thp^
one path of truth; and there he may surrender hiniself
to a course sp capricious, so broken, and so tortuous,
that his wanderirigs must defy the power of. ariy intelli
gence short of the Supreme, to calculate their termina
tions. Nothing, one would think, ought to be wished for by
any order of beings, but that its mechanism should be

95

so constructed as to secure (in the . ordinary course of
things) its welfare. It is by such a well-ordered con
struction of parts and ' ftmctions, that the preservation ,
and reproduction of the animal tribes are actually se
cured: their machinery, while it obeys'the great laws
of matter and mind, accomplishes the beneficent inten
tion of the Creator; and each individual enjoys his hour
of physical good. The Well-being of man is in the
same manner provided for, in the constitution of his
more complex nature; and so long as all the parts oi
this constitution perform their functions, all is well.
Damage and ruin arise from the inaction- or decay of
some of the parts. The - actual existence of this dam
age is precisely that point of physical science at which
it is intersected by theology, and where the former must
ask light and aid from the latter:
For a moment, let- it be inquired, what advantage a
sentient and intelHgent being could derive from an abso
lute emancipation from causation, or from' the certain
sequency of effects? The very notion of a real contin
gency, in this sense, is inadmissible in philosophy. But
let it be granted as a thing conceivable. Ought not,
then, this freedom from causation, to be termed rather a
necessity of the most dire and formidable sort? and he
whose prerogative it should be, would become an ob
ject of as much - pity as the wretch who lives in the
grasp and keeping of a madman. This power or pre
rogative of contingency, by the hypothesis, obeys no
motive; adheres to no connection of truth with truth; is
not to be calculated. upon, or foreknown; is not govern
ed by relationship to any- actual existence, or abstract

96
principle. But it is manifest that, to an intelligent be-.
ing, whose welfare is 'committed to himself, and who
provides for that welfare by calculating upon theknovm
order of nature, the liability to contingency, whether in
the external or internal system, must be a pure cprse,
by deranging every provision, and thwarting every pur
pose. A liability to sudden frenzy, would not be at all
more fearful than the liability to sudden contingency.
The unhappy being, so privileged to live beyond the
circle of nature, and so distinguished as an Putiaw from
the orderly system of causation, would be justified in
making for himself such an apology as this: — '"When
ever, and as long as my conduct is'governed by reasons
and motives, I cheerfully copsent to be treated as a
responsible agent; and am wilHng to receive the due
consequences of my actions. But not so in those dark
moments when the fit of contingency (tpy fatal' glory)
comes upon me: — then, and, in those portentous mo^
ments, I am no Ipnger master of my course; but am
hurried hither and thither, by a power in the last degree
capricious, whose freakish movements neither men nor
angels, nor the Omniscient himself, can foresee. Fain
would I surrender this fatal freedom, and take my place
among those who enjoy the benefits of the laws of na
ture and reason; but it is the unalienable condition of
my existence to be governed by a power more stern
and inexorable than Fate herself, — Alas! Contingency
is mistress of my destinies."
If it be no excellence, no advantage, to be liable to
contingency, in the matter of volition, it may, on the
other side, be asked, if btelligent agents are deprived

97

of any conceivable advantage, or are necessitated in the
sense of confinement or restraint, by being placed in a
state of inseparable conriection with a settied order of
events iri the worlds of matter and mind? — The reply
of common sense is, that this connection is'the very
ground of their safety and happiness; and- that to . dis
solve it, were to render reason useless;' and ruin inev
itable. And if common sense thus responds to the
question, physical, science corroborates the same con
clusion, by developing ¦ in detail those oCcult corres^
pondencps between the structure of animals and th?
great laws^mechanical and chemical — of the material
world, which give so much evidence at once of the
wisdorii and beneficence of the Creator.*
But the fatalist (we mean the philosophical fatalist)
and his opponent also^-the advocate of contingent free
will, concur in affirming' that this alleged connection
of the intellectual and moral system with the fixed laws
of the worlds of - mind and matter, actually removes
from virtue and vice all , their substance, and renders
these terms ' the representatives of ' a mere illusion.
"Where there is causation," says the philosophic de
fender of Arminian theology, "there can be neither
..praise nor blame, virtue nor vice. — But virtue and vice
mu.st be affirmed, and therefore hiiman volition is free
from Causation." — "Where there 'is causation," says'^the
philosophic fatalist,f "there is neither' praise nor blame,
neither virtue nor vice. But there is causation in hu-
* See note K K.
t See Diderot, as quoted above, p. 31.
9

98

man volitions; and therefore virtue and vice are empty
names. "-^Thus reason the extreme parties in this
controversy. . ' - '
Now, the physiologist might well content -himself
With spurning', unrefuted, the premises and conclusions
of both parties. It is enough for him that he finds,
belonging tohumari nature— ^human nature as compared
with thatof inferior classes— Certain eriiotions, and modes
of feeling and acting, which, a« they are specific and
broadly distinguished from all otherg, must pot be con
founded, or lost sight of; and must therefore have names
to themselves; and if the words virtue, goodness, merit,
Sic, are taken from his nomenclature, he must instantly
invent new termg tp stand in their places; but as. well
retain the old ones. Moreover, he finds that, the quali
ties so designated subserve the most important and in^
dispensable purppses: in the constitution of the hunnan
system; and he would, therefpre, without infringing upon
the duties of either moralist or theologian, reject, as a
pestilent sophism, any - theory which should tend to
lessen thei intensity, of such salutary powers.
But the philosophical fatalist might be asked — -If vir
tue and vice are npt virtue and vice, what are they?
He replies^" Virtue \s good fortune; vice, bad fortune."
We will then apply this methpd of resolvirig an illusory
notion into its proper nihility, to another case of a par
allel kind; arid then judge of its soundness. — -While
intent upon another object, the attention of Newton
was suddenly attracted by a phenomenon which led him
at length to the principle of the different refrangibility
of the several elements of light. This was .gotidfortune;

99

but he laboriously pursued the causal suggestion,' and
pfter a long course of experiments and calculations,
gave to the world the true science of optics, And this
ultimate success, also, may be called good fortune.
For must we not admit the original vastpess of his un
derstanding to have been good fortune; and was not
that mental chai-acter, or idteUectual temper, good for
tune, which, made the attainment of scientific truth the
paramount desire of his nature; and. were not his e:!fter-
nal advantages of leisure and education also good for
tune? and so was that physical wellbeing which allowed
him to carry on his researches, until they reached, their
happy issue.
Now, , if the philosophic fatalist means no more by
his^ queer use of the term good fortune, in, such an
instance, than, by, a pious conceit, to preach us a lesson
in theology; and by a quirk .to induce us, unawares, to
trace "every good gift, and every perfect gift" to Him
from whom aU excellence descends, we can make no
objection to h\s,intention; but must protest against the
method he adopts, which is puerile, affected, and cir
cuitous, . '
But the sophist in question Would, we are sure,
indignantly spurn the imputation of couching a religious
meaning under his' quibble. -Does he, then, intend by
it to hide from the notice of mankind all those mental
qualities — all that intelHge.nce and perspicacity, and that
activity, constancy, fortitude, and consistency, which
intervened, as caw^e*, between the first fortunate hint,
and the ultimate establishment of the theory of light
and. colors? By applying the term good fortune, both

100

to the acqidental suggestion, and to the laborious work
ings of the mind upon it, does he wish to insinuate that
the difference between the one and the other is a mere
, nothing — a. shade, which, should be disregarded? In this
case we ask, why, or for- what imaginable, purpose,
should we so confound things immensely different, aild
between which even the rudest mind discerris an infinite
disparity? . We beg leave of the sophist to adhere to
the usages of common sense, and shall always, iri future,
as heretofore,, callintelligence intelligence; labor labor;
and good luck good McJc. ' ' ' . ,
But further; if i^ vyere really conceivable that sO
whimsical a use of the word good fortune should gain
general credk, so as at length to dismiss from the
recollections of men the difference between mere luck,
or the accidental- possession of an advantage, and the
attainment of advantages by labor, skill, and perseve
rance; then it would immediately operate (and especially
upon inferior minds) not merely to confound things dis
tinguishable, but to destroy the very qualities that are
the objects of the distinctipn. -The sophism, vve sg.y,
if really assented to, would' debilitate those motives
which are the spring's of action, and would lead man
kind back from the state of civilisation wherein mapy
more advantages are received from labor than froni
luck, to the savage state; wherein the few advan
tages that are actually enjoyed, spring more from luCk
than from labor. But can any such retrogressive
movement be the work of true philosophy? Far from
it! It is philosophy that has led mankind forward from the
savage to the civilised condition;. and whatever would ar
rest him in his course, or beat him back, is not philosophy.

101

If, fhen, it be a pedantic 'whim, and ^ whim of mis
chievous tendency, to apply both to an accidental benefit,
and to abenefit acquired after long and laborious efforts,
the sariie term — good fortune;' it'is'also a pedaptic and
a mischievous whim to call .virtue good fortune; for vir
tue is not an accidental boon, thrOwn in a man's path,
and with' which he has nothing to do but to pick it up:
— it is the result of a long-continued' and laborious pro
cess. Wherein the mind works 'upon and among its emo
tions, its desires, and its propenshiesi But, ' thep, the
pedantry in this- case carries with it a real and effica
cious power of mischief; inasmuch as the difficulty of
attaining virtue consists, greatly, in that very laxity of
spirit which the sophism tendsito increase; and, on the
other hand, it cherishes, favors, and enhances those
specific illusions which hover arorind all vicious habits
of the mind. — ^Vice, of every kind, is, to the spirit,- an
inebriety, having both its season of delirium, and its
season pf lethargy. Now-^ if the vicious subject be
taught that his sensuality and his crimes are simply ill
fortune, his delirium will be heightened by desperation;
and his lethargy deepened by the removal of all sense
of remorse.
This doctrine, then, of the philosophical fatalist,
which, if. applied to the intellect, would leajl mankind
to barbarisni; does, by a parallel, process, when applied
to the conscience, lead him into the abyss of brutal
dehauchet'y and of ferocity. Shall we then admit, or
shall we discard it?'
*9

102

section VI.

It now only remains — and this part of our task may,
soon be dismissed- — -to consider, the question of liberty
and necessity, as belonging, to metaphysical science.
There lies before, us along,series,ior chain of prolate
spheroids, linked togetheT hy a copula, an4 marked, in
pairs, — a, b; a, b, &.C. Now, a philosopher of a cer
tain school comes up, and lectures Upon the series in
the following manner: — '
"You liave always. seen these spheriods arranged, in
this precise order; and your mipd has. acquired, as a
habit, the belief (a pardonable prejudice) that they are
inseparably or necessarily connected in this order, and
could exist in riO other.. And in consequence of this
habit, you have arbitrarily lettered them in pairs a, b,
he, and furthermore have caUed a, ca'use) and b, ef
fect: and then have formed to ypurself a certain ground
less and inexplicable notion, to which you give the name
power; and you say 'that a has a power to produce b,
and so on. But all this is a tissue of illusions. You
really know nothing heyondthe fact of the actual con
junction, or juxta-position, or uniform sequency of a
and b; arid your word power stands for nothing but an
abstraction, that has grown, we hardly know how, out
of this habit of your mind."
How satisfactory is "this exposure of an old and firrii
prejudice! . Who shall dare in future to attach to the
words cause and effect' any other sense than that of an
often-observed connection? Or who shall venture, hence
forward, to deduce an inference from the exploded

103

doctrine of causation, in favor of the ekistence of a first
cause, or creative power?
Nevertheless^ unwilling to part so easily With an
ancient belief, and so promptly to dissolve an Inveterate
habit of the mind, we look again to the spheroids before
us; turn them about, examine them on all sides, and
endeavor-, if possible, to discover if there be not a real,
as well as an accidental connection between a and b.
At length we find that some of, them maybe broken
open; and their contents exposed;, and it appears, on
examining the interior of a paii*, marked a and b, or
cause and e^cf, that the spheroid a contains a series of
figures, as thus — .(4+^2—6-7-2= <\
Within the spheroid marked b is found another
series — 8X10-H0-T-10 ^ 'I
Now, retpoving the spherOidial envelope, and retain
ing only the contents and the cOpula, a and b stand
thus — 4+8X2— 6-r-'2 =8x10+10-^10
That is to say, we are simply presented with an equation;
or the same quantity described in, two form's, and con
nected by a sign which indicates their equivalence, and
their indissoluble connection; a connection, not indeed
oi power, but of relation, and a connection so absolute
and rea,l, to receive a, and to reject b as its equivalent,
would be a conspicuous absurdity.
Encouraged by this instance of success, we proceed,
with our analysis, and taking up at hazard, from dif-

104
ferent parts of tlie series, several' pairs of spheroids,
we find that, in "every instance in which, by force or
patient assiduity, we can break the shelj; the- contents
consist of some such equation as was discovered in the
first. We have therefore, to a certain extent, refuted
our philosophic reprover, who told us that these con
nected bodies were linked only' by juxta-pofeition; fdr-
we have ascertained that some of them, at least,- are
wedded by a real and indestructible relationship. But then.
there remain (and it is no small number) the infran-»
gible spheroids. What shall be ;Said conoerning them?
Nothing conclusive; but our philosopher is now deprived
absolutely of the force of his specious argument: foriit
is not true, as he affirmed, that the connection of the
spheroids, wasnothing but a sequency yphichrnight, have
assumed any other Order than the one it actually
observed. If, on the faith of his word, " we had dis
turbed the order, and theri analysed them, nothing would
have appeared but confusion. And if, in .regard to the
analysed bodies,, he is free to surmise that they are not
linked by a real Connection; 'we are equally free to sup
pose that a true and abiding ^borid ties them one to the
other. We are free to suppose this; — and should in fact use
our freedom so far as to entertain the hypothesis — ^an
hypothesis which can neyer he refuted; until all the
spheroids are actually analysed — that some of these that
defy our curiosity contain, like those we ¦ have opened,
equations; and that the residue are joined by an efficient
connection; or in other words, that a is apow/er, properly
so called; and that b is its effeet.

105

The reader who is familiar with the controversy on
the delation of cause and effect, will readily make the
intended use of the above illustration. As the question
concerning human agency has been confused and em
barrassed by considering volition as one and the same
thing in all sentient, beings, and in all instances; whereas
it differs by essential- elements in different cases; so has
the question Concerning causation been surrounded
with difficulties, by die comnion practice of allowing all
conjoined events, vulgarly designated as cause and effect,
to pass undistinguished under one and the same des
cription. The puerile sophism of Hume takes its
appearance of force from this confusion pf things essen
tially different. It becomes, therefore, necessary to
distribute into classes the mass of things popularly
spoken of as cause and effect.
: Such constant connections, whether belongihg to
space or time, may be arranged under three heads,
of which the First will comprise those that may be
analysed, and which are found to resolve themselves
into -simple relations of equality, or , proportion, or fit
ness. ' - .
The Second- comprehends those in which the pres
ence of an efficient power must be confessed: >
Arid the Third those which are ifiscrutable by the ,
human mind, and therefore ambiguous; and concerning
which a surmise only can be entertained, as to the na
ture of the bond which unites them; but concerning
which, it may safely be presumed, that, if they could be
laid bare, they- would resolve themselves into ' connec
tions, either of the first or of the second sort.

106

For the First Class. — So many cubic feet of water
are. raised, per minute, from the deepest adit of a
mine, by a steam engine; and in popular language it is
usual to call the engine the causcj and the raised water
the effect. But if, from this stupendous apparatus, are
deducted two powers, the one chemical, the other me
chanical (presently to be spoken of) then the whole
vast system of contrivances resolves itself into a series
or apposition of relations of equality, proportion, or
equililfrium: and it is a proposition of. precisely the
same kind to say— ^
4+8X3=36;
Or to affirm that the steam engine will raise so many
cubic feet of water every minute from the bottom of a
mine. Or if a complete description of a steam engine
were placed on one side of the sign of equivalence, and
the measure of, Water expressed pn the other, the pre
dication implied would be infallible and invariable; and
to affirm of its two members, that they are connected
by mere constancy of occurrence, would be an absurdity
of the same sort, as to say, that 4+8X3 is connected
with 36 in no other way th=in ^by" accidental juxta
position. Heat and water, applied the one to the other,
combine; and water combined with heat becomes an
elastic vapor, occupying a space yastiy greater than
before. Now, though the reason of this irresistible
combination has not hitherto been' found, we are free 'to
suppose that, it is the consequence of ,a relation of ocr
cult form in the two elements; and the hypothesis is
fevored by all that is actually known pf the structure of

107

the material world. Meanwhile we assign this" unknown
fact or hidden poWer, to our third class, and after de
ducting it, then resolve the complicated machinery of
the steam engine into an equilibrium of forces.
All the works of human ingenuity are resolvable into
cases of equilibrium. Or equivalence: and, in like man
ner, the functions of plants and animals,— their growth,
agericies, and decay, and, to a certain extent, the inter
action of the elements, are also to be resolved into
connections or relations of this first cl^s. And if the
business of natural philosophy were to be described in
a single .phrase, we should say that its office is, as the
interpreter of the creation^ to exhibit or unfold physical
equations. It is hardly needful to say that, in reference to this
first order of causes and effects, the word liberty can
have no place whatever — can, assume no shadow of
meaning. . What idea can we affix to the proposition,
that there is a freedom in the conriection between twice
three and six? And if the sister term necessity may be
applied on occasions of this srirt, it adds nothing to the
perspicuity, of our notions. It is, we readily grant,
necessarily true that seven, taken three 'times makes
twenty-one. But why should we not be content with
simply saying that it is certainly true; or, better still^
that it is true. All that the mind can understand is
contained in the. very modest expression which declares
that three times seven is twenty-one. And to talk about
necessity in such an instance, is as rational, as would be
the pomposity of affirming, that three times seven is ira
mutably, and by the adamantine decree of eternal truth,
equal to twenty-one!

108
This is an absurdity of one kind:, and the history of
the controversy would furnish a thousand instances pf
such learned verbosity. The opposite absurdity is that
of Hume and others,' who, confounding' causes and eff
fectsof all kinds, affirm of all alike, that they are nothing
but often-observed sequences; whereas a large propor
tion are intelligible relations, which cannot be denied
or separated without a contradiction in terms.
It .may seem superfluous to remind'; the reader, that
all effects belonging to this first class are .directly cog
nisable by their relation to their cau^ses. The intelligence
which knows .the antecedent, knows also the consequent,
when that consequent is a correlative equality or pro
portion. II. In defining the Second Class of causes and
effects, or those wherein the presence of an efficient
power must be confessed, it cannot be thought necessary,
as a preHminary, either to insist upon the demonstra
tion, a priori, of the existence of a First Cause, or to
state the argument a posteriori. This great truth is,
here assumed as unquestionably estabHshed by the two
methods, separately and conjointly. But it follows
from it, that the worlds of matter and mind, with all
their contrivances and forms, are effects of that First
Cause, and that this relationship is, in the most absolute
sense, real arid indissoluble; nor even to' be imagined
as broken, otherwise than by the annihilation of the
effect. The doctrine of Hume and his followers, (and of
many of his opponents), That we know, and can know
nothing of cause and effect, beyond the fact of invaiia-

109

ble sequency, is, by a logical necessity, athelsticaL*
That is to say, it has no meaning,, and can have no
appearance of truth, except on the assumption, that the
behef in a First Caus^ is incapable of proof. For if
that beHef is by any means established, the fact of effi
cient causation is established with it; and it is no longer
. true, that we know of nO Connection between cause and
effect beyond that of invariable sequency. f
Whence the human mind derives its notion of power,
might be shewn; but it can never be'imagined that the
reasori of the connection . between power, arid its effect
can be exhibited. This were, indeed, to penetrate
beyOnd the deepest secrets of nature. Yet this con
nection, though not to be analysed, must be affirmed to
be necessary; or, more properly, infallible: for to sup
pose otherwise, would be only a circumlocutory denial
of die very existence of power." Power not productive
of its effect is not power, but is either inertness or
weakness. And again, the denial of liberty tp pOwer,
if liberty means freedom from restraint, would, for the
very same reason, be absurd; and thus, as we have
before observed, ' liberty and necessity' merge, the one
in the other, when We approach the footstool of supreme
excellepce and perfection.
* Hume ('^Treatise of Human Nature") gives his reader free leave to
draw this inference, which he is too -modest himself\to name.
t Brown,, wllile insisting upon the fact, that we can conceive of nothing
as coming between Almighty Power. and the effect, loses sight of the ques
tion, whether the human mind'has no idea of connection beyond antecedence
and sequence, It does, by its own power, conceive of power as someth'ifg
more than the juxta-position of events. ,
10

110

But if the word liberty were to be taken in the vul
gar sense of the words range or scope, it might then be
asked. What (with due reverence *) should be thought
of the liberty of the First Cause? We must approach
this question from beneath. Now, if for a moment it
be assumed that power, in the highest sense of the word,
is the endowment of created minds, . we can conceive
of it only as related to, first, the actual ejdis'tenpeS
known to that mipd {it,s own attributes included), ahd,
secondly, to such possible existences as may lie within
its faculty of conception, and also whhin the circle of
its agency. And then, if that created mind be thought
of as (in its degree) wise and holy, every exercise of
its power will be determined necessarily, or, which is
a far better term, invariably, or, certainly, in that one
manner which truth and goodness prescribe, whenever
either truth or goodness is interested in fhe decision.
But something more than thi? may be conceived of;
and we think that- the notion of stern fixedness, or inva
riable sameness, which is apt to be conjoined in our
minds with the idea of unalterable wisdom and rectitude,
is happily dispelled ,when this something more is duly
taken into the account. A hundred or more angular
or curve lines, all of equal length, yet dissimilar, may
be drawn from the centre to the circumference of a
circle. Nor is it an irrational supposition, that a hundred
or more courses of conduct, dissimilar, yet equidistant
* A high disadvantage belonging (jnevitably). to discussions of this order,
ia, the implication of the Divine perfections with obscure questions. E^very
eoimd mind will take care to hold its religious sentiments safe from the inter
ference of mere abstractions.

Ill

as paths from point to point, may present themselves to
an intelligence; and that these hundred courses, though
by the hypothbsis^ they possess precisely equal recom
mendations, both to the ratiorial and moral faculties,
may be -not pnly unlike in themselves, but niay lead
the being that pursues theni to vastly distant or opppsite
points of his possible destiny.*
Now this supposed •ra-ng.e, or scope, pr liberty, if so
it must be called, rera.pves' the idea of unvarying uni
formity from the notion of a high degree of wisdom
and goodness:' it enlarges the conception of supernal
existence, and opens before the meditative mind an un
bounded field of various opulence. And ahhough, in
the case of created minds,' this field is "narrowed by the
limitation both of. knowledge and of power,— ^for a cre
ated mind neither knows all actual existence nor all
possible, nor does its power extend . even so far as its
knowledge, — ^yet, on the other hand, the range of its
agency is enlarged in one direction, as well as confined
in another, by the limitation of its knowledge. For
though it has not before it all really equidistant paths,
many that are not so in fact may seem so to be; and it
may happen that, without fault or culpable folly, it may
take the Ipnger for the shorter course, believing the two
to be equal. There ipay he apparent equations where;
there ^ are no reaZ ones; and if many of the .teal are
unknown, many unreal may be supposed.
We think that from, this source the sphere of the
agency of wise and holy beings is incalculably widened;
* See note L L.

112

and yet without admitting at all the notion of contingent
volition. An attentive reference to consciousness will
convince any one that it is the law or usage of the mind,-
on occasions when an alternative must be taken, where
there is no perceived reason which should determine
the choice, to throw itself back upon the laws of its
lower nature; that is, to be guided by the involuntary
suggestion that arises at the instant of voHtion:. might
we say, as a man -whose eyes: are bandaged gives , his
hand to a child Jo lead him in the path? We have
before likened the perpetual flow of ideas through the
mind to the operation of the fly-wheel, in a machine;
and here it is seen to maintain the unceasing velocity of
action, on occasions when ap impulse from the i higher
faculties is wanting, and when otherwise the machine must
starid still. We may well presume that this fact has its
analogy in a higher sphere of beings;' and that so an
inconceivable diversity, a voluminous variety, is thrown
in Upon the theatre of celestial life.
And now in reference to the Divine agency, or the
exercises of infinite power, let it, with becoming mod
esty, be affirmed, that the universe of .things''possibh
being present to the Divirie omniscience, there are con
tained in it innumerable hypotheses, of being, strictly
equivalent one. with another, so far as, benevolence or
wisdom are concerned. To advance even a conjecture
as to the mode of determination in such instances, would
be in the last degree presumptuous and absurd. It is
enough to know, that as time, or succession, of being, is
not the condition of the Divine existence, such deter
minations are always actual, not future, and therefore

113
not either unknown or contingent. Is it allowable to
say, that the idea of the exercises of supreme power
and wisdom is enlarged and enriched by this doctrine
of hypothetical equivalents? '.
The meditative mind, in looking abroad upon the
vastness of the universe, and in observing that the edi
fice of the material world is broken into innumerable
portions,' far separated one from another, natui-aliy en-
tertairis the supposition that the infinite resources of the
Divine ipgenuity (if the wprd may be allowed) are
copiously unfolding theipselves aVound us, in aU possible
modes. And again,' when the mind turns from the in
finitude of space to the infinitude of duration, and en
tertains, vaguely, the inconceivable idea of eternity, a,
parallel supposition arises and flits, before the imagina
tion,-" — ^that this unbounded ingenuity^ — this richness of
conception, which exhausts all forms of existence, and
all combinations pf those forms, will, through an endless
series pf successive creations give expression in turn to
each, and run the round of its cycle of wisdom and
power, until whatever may be has actually seen the
light of "life. And is it then true that humari nature is
destined to be the immortal spectator of these never-
ending developements?
III. It only remains to speak of the Thikd Class
of causes and effeCts; or those connections," of which
the bond is either ambiguous, or absolutely inscrutabte.
To enumerate all the instances of this sort (or alf
tliat present themselves in the System knovra to us)
would not he difficult. But it is enough for our imme
diate purpose to mention, as iUustrative of our meaning,
*10

114
the most conspicuous, namely, the principle of gravita
tion, and of corpuscular attraction and repulsion; the
principle of chemical affinity, that is to say, of attraction
as belonging not to all solid masses alike, but to partic
ular bodies; electrical agencies (of both ki^ds); the
principle of vegetable Hfe (unless it •be«' resolvable into
chemical or electrical action); the principle of animal
life (unless this also may be.so'r.esplved); and, lastly,"
the power of mind over matter and over itself. In all
such instances of action, movement, 'or change of place,
or of quality, or of bulk, orof function, we observe the
invariable antecedent and consequent; and are able to
reason with precision upon the laws, or, as we rriight
say; modes, of the hidden power; but the lirik or tie is
deeply concealed. The reason why &, ^succeeds to a,
is not to be assigned: the most perfectscience pretends
to no knowledge of this ultimate connection. , And, in
deed, in aU branches; of knowledge. Science is deemed
to have fulfilled her task when she has proved herself
to have left hothipg unknown— except these occult
powers. ' '
Metaphysical science has nothing to do with them,
except to abstain from assuming the gratpitous hypoth
esis, that in such inscrutable facts -there is no real con
nection, or Pothing beyond actual sequency. We af
firm, that the presumption gathered from all parts of
science is altogether against such an hypothesis, and,
on the contrary, strongly favors the supposition, that the
great mechanical laws of the universe, and the'^chemical
* See note M M.

115
affinities and aversions of particular bodies, and probably
the principles of vegetable and animal life, are relations,
or rather the consequences of relations; so that each
effect is connected with its cause by the sameabsplute
bond which secures the result of a mechanical contri
vance, or which makes the two membejEsof an equation
inseparable. We venture to say, that the course of
modern chemical discovery tends towards the belief
that chemical action is the necessary consequence of
the relation subsisting between the elementary structure
of bodies, and that if the occult forrii of '« and d could
be exposed, it would become manifest that their juxta
position must issue in the compound e.*,
' In regard to the hidden powers of nature, the whole
question lies between contrivance, or relation, and
power, — that is, immediate Divine power; not between
contrivance, power, and merejuxta-position, or arbitrary
sequency; for as, on the. one hand, the testimony of
natural science goes to establish the general truth, that
causation rests upon real relations; and as, on the other.
Divine science establishes the truth of a first and intelli
gent Cause, we are free to choose between the two, in
all cases of a hidden or ambiguous sort; and can never
be compelled to take up the hypothesis of contingent
or accidental sequency, which is neither patural to the
human mind, nor confirmed in any single instance by
the results of experimental. philosophy. ¦ ,,.,;,
In turning to the; world of animal and intellectual
life, there is room to ask whether the power of
•.See note N N.

116
mind over matter,, and over itself, tshould be regard
ed as,
1. The conseqiience of a celation of parts, or con-
irivapce only; or —
2. The direct exertion of Divine power; pr —
3. A derived and separate (not independent) por
tion of that essential power.
Without resting at all upOn sp difficult a theme, we
may just say that we should reject 'the _^r«< supposition,
and prefer the third to the second. Our business is to
affirm, that the determination Of suCh questions is not,
in the remotest degree, importapjt to any branch of in
tellectual, or ethical, or theological philosophy, any
more than an analysis of the principle of gravitation is
important to mechanical- sciepce. - The fact is enough,
that mind has power to move and modify matter, and
to move and io modify itself. If its possessipn of the
first-named power were qestioned, we? might establish
the fact by striking the sceptic; or, if the second were
doubted, we should ask him to- propound to us a mathe
matical theorem, and we would engage, even while
assailed by many disturbing cayses from without and
from within, to hold a steady intellectual flight, in a di
rect Hne, from the data to the conclusion, and should
anege,the true solution of the theorem as a proof incon-
testible that mind has power, — a power introvertible, as
w;en as efficient upon matter.
The terms' liberty and necessity may be alleged to
have a relation to' this ultimate fact of the power of
mind over itself. If liberty might he. taken in the un-
inteUigible sense of contingency, or freedom from caus-

117
ation, then we say that this power, as belonging to the
human mind, has no liberty; for it always stands under
a triple relationship, namely, to its own attributes and
conditions, to the world of actual or conceivalnle exist
ence, and to the interferences of Divine power; and so
far from its being insulated from reasons and mbtives, it
is only upon and among reasons and motives that it caa
work. But if by liberty be meant scope or range, then does
this power incalculably augment, enlarge, diversify, and
ennoble the agency of the being, possessing it. Upon
this point we have already enlarged. But if liberty
means freedom from restraint, then the Sad triUh must
be confessed, -that this power, in the human subject, is
largely invaded, and much darn^ged and obstructed by ,
the moral miii that has aifected the race. Man, in this
sense, is frge only in degree; and Tt is in contemplation
of this lamentable infringement -of his native power,
that he should thankfully receive the succor and the
remedial interference offered to him by Christianity.
The correlative term, necessity, in like manner, takes
its pertinence, or its' irrelevance, from the precise sense
attached to it when connected with the power of mind.
In the' sense of bondage, impediment, or restraint, man,
as we have just saidyisin j various degrees necessitated
by the prevalence of inordinate desires, and by the force
of inveterate habits. But it should be remembered,
that, this sort of necessity is not held in any, even of the
most momentous affairs of life, to absolve the evil-doer
from his responsibility to law, or to discharge him from
his liability to punishments Theologians have no need

118

to resort to metaphysical arguments for the purpose of
establishing the truth, that a debauched habit of mind
does not exonerate a man from the load of his guilt;
or at least (hey need not do sp until. the enormous sup
position is recognised and acted upon in courts of jus
tice. Who does not see that the acknowledgment of
a principle like this would, in a day, dissolve the entire
framework of society? And shall it, if inadmissible on
earth, be published and received as a maxim of the
Divine government? A proclamation so fearful would
convert the universe into a prison-house of horrors.
He who enters upon a course of vice, /fieZs that at every
step his moral health and strength are impaired: this
alarming consciousness should aWakep him to a sense
of his danger. But if it does not so awaken him, no
means remain (consistentiy with any system of govern
ment by laws and sanctions) which can avert from him
the terrible consequences of becoming at length the
helpless slave of licentious habits. And yet, not even
the last stage of thialdom absolutely breaks up the con
stitution of human nature: man is, to the last (unless
frenzied), open to a sense of his uhimate welfare; and
the motives thence derived, if understood, are always
more than adequate to determine the conduct of a ra
tional being. And besides, instances are on, record of
moral revolutions, even in cases apparently the most
hopeless. Man, therefore, though his true liberty is greatly
impaired, never becomes (in the present life) so neces
sitated as to render a recovery strictly impracticable.
The delusive influence of the ill-chosen word neces
sity, as used in this controversy, increases (might we

119
say?) in geometrical progression at every step, as we
ascend from material causes towards the higher stage
of intellectual agency. , Those who think fit to do so,
may very harmlessly, though very ineptiy, talk of the
necessity which binds together the parts of a mathemati
cal proposition; or they may so speak of the connection
of causes and effects in the system of animated nature;
and they may still advance a step, without being liable
to a conviction of absolute error. But as we rise on
the scale of life, the associated ideas that cling to the
term actually intercept from our view the simple matters
of which we are speaking; and while, perhaps, our chain
of reasoning is inform, correct, it is in fact seductive or
false. To speak of power as latent or inert, is a solecism;
at least it is not the notion with which we have to do.
Can we, then, conceive of power active, that is to say,
of power in the proper and only intelligible sense of the
word, as not related to any subject or matter whereupon
it works? Or can we conceive of power as an attribute
of an intelligent and ofa moral being, and yet not rela
ted to the knovyledge and to the emotions of that being?
Or could we deem it a perfection in the constitution of
a rational agent, that his power should operate like a
vague and brutal violence, taking its course this way
and that, with the blind vehemence pf a hurricane? Or,
is not rather the idea of rational perfection filled up by
the supposition of power, related, on the one 'hand, to
its subject, by the bond of uniform and unfailing effi
ciency; and on the other, to the knowledge and emo
tions of the agent, by the tie of infallible determination

120
or direction? Whatever is deducted from the constancy
or invariable sequency of these connections, makes a
proportionate deduction from the excellence and true
freedom of the agent. The agerit whose power is not
thus necessitated, in the most absolute sense, is, to the
whole extent of the want of necessity, not free. A de
ficiency of necessity, inthe higher sense of the word, is
an increase of necessity in the lower. . Arid here, once
again, we must note the synonymous import of the words
liberty and necessity, when the highest perfection is
spoken of And it is manifest that this necessity, far
from carrying" with it any idea of bondage, or confine
ment, or fatality, is'the very secret and the indispensa
ble condition of the full and unimpaired liberty of
celestial natures.
The controversy comes to a point on this position:
nor is it difficult to discern in what way, by the mysti
fications that belong to theological argument, and by the
malignant obscurations that have beeri shed over it from
the hands of those who have labored, to subvert religion
and morality, and to debauch and vilify man,— a very
intelligible matter has been wrapped in dark clouds of
difficulty. Let but the difference between mechanical
laws and living agencies be confounded, and let the ele
mentary differences that distinguish the several orders
of sentient beings be lost sight of, and let the gloomy
woi-d necessity be put in the place of the simple words
relation and causation; and then the way will be clear
for talking of such facts as the fall of bodies to the earth,
or the collapse of chemical elements, and of the agency
of the highest order of intelligences, who seek their

121

hajipiness at large on aH the fields of the universe, under
one and the same set of afffected phrases. And thus,
because mind is furnished with knowledge, and is sus
ceptible of emotion, and is endowed with power, and is
thus qualified to ^maintain and enlarge its well-being
through a course of endless advancements; and be
cause this well-being. is secured, by its invariable con
nection with an established order of events, therefore
(say sophists) it becomes reasonable tp speak .of the lot
of such high intelligences as if it vvere overruled by the
same fatality which confines a stone to the spot whereon
it has faUen!
For the purpose of banishing for ever these delusions,
it would be well to lay aside entirely the word necessity,
which is ridiculously .superfluous and redundant in some
of its applications, and absurd or seductive in others.
If, for example, we have occasion to speak of a known
relation of equality or proportion, why not be content
with the simple assertion, that the predicate is true of
the subject? or that «+& is equal to c ? Or, if a con
clusion has been derived from a somewhat complicated
series of proofs,^o tiiat a moderate asservation seems
to be; caUed for, let the word certainty Suffice us.
Certauity.is the knowledge of truth, obtained by labor
and research; and when by labor and research we have
gained the knowledge of any complex system of rela
tions, it may be granted that there is a propriety in
speaking of the" certainty of those relations; though in
fact nothing more is meant, than what is affirmed when
the relation is expressed in the very simplest and most
modest form. *,
11

122 "
If the noble liberty — the range, and scope, and un
restrained qapacity of happiness, which is the distinction
of rational agents of the higher orders, be the subject of
discourse; and if we would express the fact that such
beings rule their destinies through the changeful scenes;
of immortality by their knowledge and virtue; we shall
do well to avoid the employment of a phrase which
seems to imply that those destinies are overruled in.
some other way than by the combinations of knowledge^
virtue, and power.
All that is important to ethics apd theology is. implied
in the knowledge of the introvertible power of mind;
and we must here observe, that its existence as a. phy
siological fact — a? a fact which forms the elementary
difference between man and the, inferior classes of
sentient beings, has been top. littie insisted upon by
ethical and religious controveriists| and though famil
iarly known to all men, has been (like ten thousand
other familiar facts) overlooked by philosophers.
The -Arminian divine, inwardly persuaded, he knows
not on what ground, that human nature contains a
something' more than the passivity of brute matter, or
of animal life, has recourse tO the figment of Contingent
Volition; and then, to give his unintelligible notion an
appearance of consistency, has been led to the enormous
error of denying the Divine-fore-knowledge. Thus, in
his zeal to defend one attribute of Deity he has demol
ished apother. Why- wiU he not be content with the
simple principles of human nature, as known to aU men,
and as recognised in the transactions of every day, and
with the plain evidence of the Bible, which always

123

takes up and supposes the existehce of those prin
ciples? His opponent, the Calvinist, spurning the absurdities
of Arminian meta,physics, believes that, when he has
scattered these spphisms, he has exhausted the subject
of human agency, and may triumphantly return from
the vanquished field to his own theological position;
nor deems it necessary once to lay aside his high
lenses, or to look abroad upon human nature as it shews
itself to the naked eye of common sense. Then he
goes to his Bible, cased, in metaphysical cei;tainties, and
proceeds, without scruple or compunction, to apply the
crushmg engine of dogmatical exppsition to aU passages
that do not naturally fall in with the abstractions which
he has framed to himself. Meanwhile, men of sense
are disgusted, and sceptics glory. How shall these
evils be remedied? — how, unless by the prevalence of a
better — a genuine system of interpretation?
But even without this better exposition, a great and
important reform would spontaneously follow from a
more vivid persuasion of the reality of the great facts
affirmed in the Scriptures. Let but the quickening
affirmations of the inspired writers be allowed to take
effect on the ground of the ordinary motives of human
life; let it but be believed that the Son of God has
come to inform men (his fellows, by an ineffable conde
scension,) of a future danger to which all are liable;
and to impart to them freely a benefit they could never
have obtained by their own efforts; and then it will no
rnore seem pertinent or necessary to adjust the terms of
this message of mercy to metaphysical subtJlties, than

124

it does to do the like when a friend snatches a friend
from ruin, or \yhen a father bears his children in his arms
from a scene of perils. How much mischief has arise^
from the supposition that a mystery belongs to the mat
ter of salvation, which waits to be cleared up by phi
losophy. Philosophy, it. is to be hoped, WiU at length work its
way through 'its own difficulties. But the result to
Christianity pf so happy a success, would simply be, to
set in a stronger light the enormous folly of obstructing
the course pf a momentous practical affair by the
impertinences of learried disputation.

NOTES.

Note A. p. 18.
The decout Edwards. — The life of Edwards should be peiased
by eveiy one who reads his "Essay on Freedom of Will." Let
it be said that his style of Christianity might have borne some
correctioiis; and let it also be admitted, that, in his modesty, and
his low estimation of himself, and in his love of retirement, his
melancholic temperament had an influence. After every deduc
tion of this sort has been made, it must be granted, that this
eminent man, whose intellectual sujieriority might have enabled
him to shine in European c.olleges of learning, displayed a meek
greatness of soul which belongs only to those who derive their
principles from the Gospel. How refreshing is the contrast of
sentiments which strikes us in turning from the private corres
pondence of men who thought of nothing beyond their personal
fame as philosophers or writers, to the correspondence and diary
of a man like Edwards! In the one case, the single, paramount
motive — literary or philosophic vanity — lurks in every sentence,
unblushingly shews itself on many a page, and when most con
cealed, is concealed by an affectation as loathsome as the fault it
hides. But how much of this deformed self-love could the most
diligent detractor cull from the private papers or works of the
President of the New Jersey College.' We question if a single
sentence which could be fairly construed to betray the vanity or
ambition of superior intelligence is any where to be found in
them. Edwards daily contemplated a glory, an absolute ex-
CELLEKCE, wMch at once checked the swellings of pride, and
eickejied him of the praise which his powers might have won
from the world. »11

126
Edwards (though, in listening to his own account of himself,
one would not think it,) waso man of genius— yjB mean imagina
tive, and open to all those moving sentiments which raise high
souls above the present scene of things. Among the reasons
which inclined him to excuse himself from the proffered presi
dency, he alleges, — First, his own defects, unfitting him for such
an undertaking, "many of which are generally known,'' says he,
"besides others which my own heart is conscious of. I , have a
constitution in many respects peculiarly unhappy, attended with
flaccid solids; vapid, sizy, and scarce fluids; and a low tide of
spirits, often occasioning a kind of childish weakness, and con-
temptibleness of speech, presence, and demeanor; with a disa
greeable dulness and Stiffness, much unfitting me for conversation,
but more especially for the government of a college." This de
scription of his mental conformation is curious, physiologicaWg,
as an anatomy of a mind so remarkable for its faculty of abstrac
tion. May we not say, that this very poverty of constitution, this
sluggishness and aridity, this feeble pulse of life, was the very
secret of his extraordinary power of analysis.' The suppositioh
leads to speculations concerning the physical condttions of the
mind, which must not here be pursued; but it may be remarked,
in passing, that it must be from the copious collection and right
use of facta of this sort, that progress will be made (if ever) in
the science of mind.
But, notwithstanding the apparent coldness of his temperament,
Edwards was manifestly susceptible, and in no conimon degree,
of those emotions which are rarely conjoined with the philosophic
faculty. Let an instance be taken from his diary: — "There
seemed to be, as it were, a calm, sweet cast, an appearance of
divine glory, in almost every thing: God's excellency,hi3 wisdom,
his purity and love, ssemed to appear in every thing; in the sun,
moon, and stars; in the clouds and blue sky; in the grass,
flowers, trees; in the water, and all nature, which used greatly
to fix my mind. / often used to sit and view the moon for continu
ance; and, in the day, spent much time in viewing the clouds
and sky, to behold the sweet glory of God in these things: in the
mean lime singing forth, with a low voice, ray contemplations of
the Creator and Redeemer. And scarce any thing among all the
works of nature was so sweet to me as thunder and lightning;

127

formerly nothing had been so terrible to me. While thus en
gaged, it always seemed natural to me to sing or chant forth my
meditations; or to speak my thoughts in soliloquies with a singing
voice." That Edwards, by constitution of mind, was more than a dry
and cold thinker, might be proved by reference to many passages
even in his "Essay on Free Will" as well as his less abstruse
writings. He was master in fact, of a simple eloquence, of no
mean order: — "Holiness, as I then wrote down some of my con
templations on it, appeared to me to be of a sweet, ple^asant,
charming, serene, calm nature; which brought an inexpressible
purity, brightness, peacefulness, and ravishment, to the soul.
In other words, that it made the soul like a field or garden of
God, with all manner of pleasant flowers; all pleasant, delight
ful, and undisturbed, enjoying a sweet calm, and the gently
vivifying beams of the sun. The soul of a true Christian, as I
then wrote my meditations, appeared like such a little white
flower as we see in the spring of the year, low and humble, on
the ground; opening its bosom to receive the pleasant beams of
the sun's glory; rejoicing, as it were, in a calm rapture; difl'using
around a sweet fragancy; standing peacefully and lovingly in
the midst of other flowers round about; all, in like manner,
opening their bosoms to drink in the light of the [sun. There
was no part of creature holiness that I had so great a sense of its
loveliness as humility, brokenness of heart and poverty of spirit:
and there was nothing that I so earnestly longed for. My heart
panted after this,, — to lie low before God, as in the dust, that I
might be nothing, and that God might be all, that I might be
come as a little child."
These sentiments were not the exuberances of a youthful
melancholic ardor, but gave tone to the character and conduct of
the man through life. To accomplish the will of God on earth
was the ruling motive of his soul; and to have sought his own
glory, he would have thought an enormous departure from true
virtue. If his definition of true virtue be liable to objection, his
exemplijication of it shewed him to have understood practically
the secret of all substantial goodness.

128

Note B. p. 25.
The pendulum-spring of a watch is a very nice instrument,
and one in the construction pf which three sciences, besides
manual skill, are called in to give their aid. In the first place,
the due action of the shining thread, which maintains the oscil
latory movement of the balance-wheel, depends upon its con
formity to the mathematical conditions of the spiral curve. Then
must be considered the doctrine of elasticity, "ut tensio, sic vis,"
and the mechanical laws of motion, which are to determine the
necessary proportion between the thickness of the spring and its
length and then, too, the very delicate calculation of the taper,
as connected with the kind of escapemerU with which it is destihed
to act, — one kind of escapement requiring a spring of equal bulk
throughout, while the more accurate kitids demand a diminishing
substance from end to end. The third science implied in the
proper construction of this little agent, is that which teacheS the
method of irnparting to the rude metal of which it is formed, its
elastic property, and of tempering it in the due degree. In fact
both chemistry and metallurgy are concerned in this business;
and in the manufacture of steel for watch-springs, much of that
peculiar or workshop knowledge is demanded which is not to be
found in books. Now, the exact movement of the pendulum-
spring is that ultimate result which brings to a point, if we might
so speak, the converging lines of several distinct sciences. Who
shall estimate the confusion that must arise from an attempt to
treat as one these several calculations and processes, which are
essentially different, and which must be held apart until they are
combined in the various conditions of the spring?
That practical science which relates to the stkength of mate
rials, in like manner combines the principles of several sciences.
Let the problem be, to determine the necessary breadth and depth
of the girder of a floor, that shall sustain a given weight, the length
of the span also being given. Now, these dimensions are not to
be found without having recourse, j?;-«{, to the higher mathemat
ics, or these purely abstract truths which are independent of all
the laws of the actual world, and which would be what they are,
although there were no such principle as gravitation, or no
material system. In the next place, this law of gravitation mast
be understood, in order to find the point of the strain, as well as

129

the true proportion between depth and breadth. And, lastly, the
peculiar properties of the several species of timber must be pre
cisely known, and knoion by experiment. The proportion between
depth, breadth, and length,, will vary, as the compressibility,
cohesive force, toughness, &c. of oak, fir, &c., or of the several
kinds of oajt or fir vary. British, Riga, Norway, American oak,
will give each its precise dimension to the girder; and it is not the
mathematician, but the naturalist, who must inform the practical
man on these points. (See Tredgold's "Elementary Principles
of Carpenty," section x. on the Nature and Properties of Timber.
The same able writer's treatise on the "Strejfgth of Iron" affords
a multitude of instances of a similar kind. See also Barlow's
"Essay on the Strength and Stress of Timber.")
Now, let it, in these cases, be supposedthat the mathematician,
dogmatically confident of his demonstrations, were (and this is
in fact the fault of the earlier mathematicians, and not seldom of
Leibnitz,) to determine the problem above mentioned, as if it
were a pure abstraction, or, if he referred looSely to certain vulgar
facts concerning the strength of timber, were neither to make
experime-nts of this physical kind, nor to swerve at all from his
mathematical processes in regard to them:: — in this case all his
products must be erroneous. Or, though correct m,athematically ,
they would be inapplicable to the real world, and useless, or worse
than useless, in practice. It is but of late that these cases of com
plicated principles have been made matters of science. We
must not wonder, therefore, that, within the hazy precincts of in
tellectual philosophy, distinctions and separations of a parallel kind
have scarcely at all been regarded. Now, to return to the instance
before us, of the "Treatise on Freedom of Will," the argument
is, in the main, abstract, but not purely so; for besides the ad
mixture of Scripture proofs, the physi61ogy of the hunlan mind
is__taken up as its material or subject, and yet far too, loosely and
vaguely to satisfy those Who look at human nature as an object
of natural philosophy. Or, to refer allusively to the illustration
above given, Edwards is an accomplished TreaiAe-maiician; but'he
thought little, or did not take into his calculations, the difference
between oaA and ^r. His "Treatise on the WiU" is, to a true
philosophy of human nature, as the, demonstrations of Leibnitz —
Demonstrationes J^vts de Resistentia SoUdorum — are to modern
mechanical science.

130
Note C. p. 26.
The ingenious author of "Studies of Nature" toiled vainly to
establish his theory of the tides on the principle of the melting of
arctic snows and ices: he should have lived before Newton, and
might then have enjoyed his century or two of celebrity. He
sought for a particular truth among a set of causes in which it
was not to be found. Pliny might have arrived at the real fact, for
he set foot upon the true course, As did Bacon; but St. Pierre
could never have reached it. ThS doctrine of tides furnishes
another example of the combination of causes of different orders
in a single result. It is asked, why does thfe Thames at Lon
don bridge fill its bed at three o'clock to-day.' Shall -it be said, be
cause the waters of the oce^n obey the law of gravitation, and
are heaped into a mighty wave by sun and moon. But this ex
planation, though the true one, will not adjust itself to the facts;
and we must calculate all the local cause's, the turns of the river,
the form of the bed, thfe currents of the channel, before we can
bring the abstract theory into correspondence with the actual
event of high-tide at thr^e o'clock^ These essentially different
classes of causes must both be calculated, but must not be con
founded or confused. Note D. p. 27.
The disposition of the French people, as compared with the
English, to ascend too high in the discussion of practical ques
tions, is a very remarkable fact. 'SVs should not satisfactorily
account for it on one ground only. It must not b? said of the
English, thatthey are not a philosophical people; yet it is ti:iie that,
whenever the substantial interests of life are under discussion,
they shew a determined dislike to abstract or metaphysical argu
mentation; — they will listen to nothing that is not unquestionably
pertinent and proximate. The good sense, the love of despatch
and of perspicuity, which belong to the mercantile character, are
here apparent. And may we not also say, that the mingled mod
esty and pride of the English character have a share in producing
the sanle effect? An Englishman avoids speaking of matters to
which he has . not given sufficient attention; he will not expose
himself to ridicule by venturing beyond his line: Ke therefore
leaves philosophy to philosophers, and talks of politics and com
merce only as matters of fact. *

131

But the Frenchman has no such scruples — n6 such fearB:
whether artisan, bourgeois, soldier, or noble, he is master of all
sciences— a cyclopsedist; and is as ready in discourse upon ab
stract principles as upon the merits of an actress. Then, the
French people, at the time of the breaking out of the revolution
had not enjoyed the advantage of possessing any middle ground
between the sottish absurdities o( their national religion, and the
wild theories of their atheistical teachers. They had no alterna
tive but to be devout (in the sense of their priests), or td be mad
in speculation. And as they had no reasonable religion whereon
common sense nlight exercise itself, so neither had they any con
stitution which might save them from the extreme of the old regi
men on the one side, or of the republican delirium bn the other.
Neither in religion nor politics could they choose, except between
the faith of dotards or -the impudence of charlatans; and if they
scorned to doze and dream, must run frantic in extravagance.
Moreover, the.revolution brought upon the stage of public life mul
titudes of men whose habits and education had given them no qual
ification whatever for the transaction of..the praptical business of
government. These,if they wojild figure at all, must do so as phi
losophers. . For it is a much easi;er thing to talk profoundly as a
metaphysician, than wisely lo reform existing institutions, or than
to carry forward the, every-day business of state.- The n)elaphy-
sical fashion, it is to be feared has not yet wrought all its mis
chief in France. To some causes of a similar kind may be
traced mucjh of that want of good sense which, deforms the Ger
man philosophy and theology! Note E. p. 27.
There is not merely a natural connection between despotism,
and mysticism, and fatalism, and atheism, and pantheism; so that
it shall be almost invariably true, that where political systems,
like those of Asia, are found, we shall find also, among the
learned, some such form of abstruse and absurd philosophy; but
it is the scorching heat of despotism which imparts to these doc
trines their power of mischief, by bringing them out from (;ells
and colleges, into the markets, and fields, and homes of common
life. The combined influence of good government and Chris
tianity, if it does not disperse metaphysical errors altogether, will

132
unfailingly confine them to the closets of the sophists with whom
they originate. Note F. p. 34.
Every one is aware of ihi beneficial tendency of genuine, sci
ence; but it is not, perhaps, always duly remembered, that every
practical application of the principles bf mathematical', mechanical,
chemical, or physiological philosophy, is a new affirmation bf the
Divine benevolence towards man. Shall we say,' it is a fresh
text, translated from the unwritten Bible of God's creation, cor
roborating our faith in the paternal care of Him in whom we live,
and move and have our being? And this might be said even if
these beneficial discoveries were the results of chance. But when
they come to us as the product of laborious intellectual operations,
they assert the same great truth vfith a peculiar emphasis, inas
much as they not merely declare the Divine purpose — that man
should be well accommodated, and aided, and coinforted, in this
his terrene abode; but that he should win every advantage by
the exertion of his higher faculties. Each benefit' derived from a
better knowledge of nature is a premium of mind— ^a boon given
as the reward of int'fellectual effort: and while it declares in one
of its inscriptions that the Maker of the universe'is the friend of
man, inthe other it exhorts man to be his own friend, by the
diligent einployment of his mental powers.
Every biraUch of modern science abounds with instances of
remote correspondences between the great system of the. world,
and the. welfare of man in the artificial (the truly natural) condition
to which knowledge raises him. If these coftespondences were
single or rare, they might be deemed merely fortuitous; like the
drifting of a plank athwart the track pf one who is swimming
from a wreck. , But when they meet us on all sides and invari
ably, we must be resolute in atheism not to confess that they are
emanations from one and the same centre of wisdom and goodness.
Is it nothing more than a lucky accommodation which makes the
polarity of the needle to subserve the purpdses of the mar
iner.'' Or may it not safely be affirmed, both' that the magnetic
influence (whatever its primary intention may he) had reference
to the business of navigation — a reference incalculably important
to the spread and improvement of the human race; and that the

133

discovery and the application of this influence arrived at the des
tined moment in the revolution of human affairs, when, in com
bination with other events, it would produce the greatest effect?
Nor should we scruple to affirm, that the relation .between the
inclination of the earth's axis and the conspicuous star which,
without a near rival, attracts even the eye of the vulgar, and
shews the north to the wanderer on the wilderness, or on the
ocean, is in like manner a beneficent arrangement. Those who
would spurn the supposition that the celestial locality of a sun,
immeasurably remote from our system, should have reference to
the accommodation of the inhabitants of a planet so inconsider
able as our own, forget the style of the Divine works, which is,
to secure some great or principal end, compatibly with ten
thousand lesser and remote interests. Man, if he would secure
the greater, must neglect or sacrifice the less: not so the Omni
potent Contriver. It is a fact full of meaning, that thotee astron
omical phenomena (and so others) which offer themselves as
available for the purposes of art; as, for instance, of navigation,
or geography; do not fully or effectively yield the aid they
promise, until after long and elahorate processes or calculations
have disentangled theni from variations, disturbing forces, aiid
apparent irregularities. "To the rude fact, if so we might de
signate it, a mass of recondite science must be appended, before
it can be brought to bear with precision upon the arts of life.
Thus, the polarity of the needle, or the eclipses of Jupiter's
moons, are as nothing to the mariner, or the geographer, without
the voluminous commentary furnished by the mathematics of
astronomy. The fact of the expansive force of steam must em
ploy the intelligence and energy of the mechanicians of an em
pire, during a century, before the whole of its beneficial powers
can be put in activity. Chemical, medical, and botanical science
is filled with parallel instances; and they all affirm, in an articu
late manner, the twofold purpose of the Creator — to benefit man,
and to educate him. '
Now, in the metaphysical dogmas of absolute and universal
scepticism, and of. philosophical fatalism, there is a conspicuous
contrariety to the testimony of all other sciences in both these
respects. For these dogmas, in the first place, represent man to
be the helpless victim of an inexorable power, rather than the
12

134

child of an indulgent parent; and then, instead of courting and
cherishing his .energies and his intelligence, they paralyse the
one, and astound the other, by proving td him that his toils are
idle — his notions of trtith absurd or unfounded — his convictions
illusory — his deductions fallacious, and his whole nature a para
dox. If, then, this order of metaphysics claims respect, as a
science, it is contradicted by sciences better established than
itself If it be the mere re-verie of a debauched intelligence, then
we cheerfully allow it all the honor that is usually thought due
to meditations of that Quality. Note G. p. 37.
The entire mass of intellectual and theological philosophy
divides itself into two classes, the one irreconcilably opposed to
the other; The first is, in its spirit, and in all its doctrines, con
sentaneous with human feelings and interests. Tie second is,
both as a whole, and in its several parts, paradoxical. The first
is the philosophy of modesty, of inquiry, of induction, and of
belief. The second is'the philosophy of abstraction, as opposed
to induction; and of impudence, as opposed to a i-espectful at
tention to nature and to evidence. The first takes natural and
mathematical science by the hand, observes the same methods,
labors tp promote the same ends; and the'sisters are never at
variance. The second ' stands, ruffian-like, upon the road' of
knowledge, and denies progress, to the human mind. The first-
shews an interminable and practicable, though difficult ascent.
The second leads to the brink of an abyss, into which reason and
hope must together plunge. The first is grave, laborious, and
productive. The second ends in a jest, of which man, and the
world, and its Maker, are the subject.
The paradoxical philosophy,, though always the same in prin
ciple, takes its style from the manners of those by whom it is
entertained. In Scotland and in EnglaSd it has ordinarily been
decent, specious, veiled: — in France, bold, explicit, shameless.
Hobbes, indeed, who first gave to England a philosophy of this
order, as he connected himself with the most profligate party that
has ever made a figure upon the stage of English affairs, assumed
a tone which is not Engjish: as a writer he is not indigenous to

135

our literature. Hume had a better tact, and knew how to clothar
the same inimical philosophy, in a garb of elegance and of sancti
monious modesty. If Hume be compared with Diderot, Helve-
tius, and their school, the difference between England and France,
at that time, will present itself to the eye. The sense and sub
stance are the same; but the dialect and the fashion are very
dissimilar. It is consolatory to find, that when the doctfines of
this anti-human, or unnatural philosophy, are to be prepared for
holding intercourse with- the lower classes in our own. country,
and when they are to unclothe themselves, and appear horrid
and hirsute, as proper savages, it is necessary to bring them over
from France.
The very same distinction runs through theology, and divides
in two, some of those religious bodies that, in name and political
being, are one. There is -a thefllogy which takes up the consti
tution of human nature, and brings to bear upon it, kir^ly and
consentaneously, the remedial powers of Christianity. And there
is a theology which makes a jest of human nature, which insults
its woes, denies to it any available aid; and is, if it must be called
a Gospel, a gospel of hostility and of iriockery. The -sisterhood
and relationship of the sceptical or atheistical philosophy, and bf
the Antinomian theology, mfght- be traced in a striking similarity
of sentiment and expression; and not a few passages might be
taken from the pages of the most licentious of [the French infidel
writers,. which, with the substitution of here and there a phrase,
would seem to come very consistently from the lips of certain
notorious divines. If there be any important difference it is, that
the preacher surpasses his brother the atheist both in rancor and
in impudence. Note H. p. 38.
By the real sciences, those are intended that rest upon evi
dence which secures the consent of all who are competent to
comprehend it; and which therefore excludes sects and oppositions
of opinion. If Christianity be a system qi" metaphysical deduc
tions, it must, of course, maintain jtself among other principles
of the same class; and must bring all its positions into accordaiice
with them; or must vanquish them with the weapons of scholas-

136

tic warfare, and must appeal to abstract truths on every occasion
of controversy. But if it be simply and solely a matter of his
tory (as to its truth) and of verbal affirmation (as to its doctrines),
then nothing can be more enormous. than the attempt to bring
the general fact, or the particular affii'mations, into collision with
the principles of metaphysical science.
Even in those instances jn whic)i one science beai;s manifestly
upon another, as, for instance, chemistry upon vegetable and
animal physiology; or where a yet unformed science stands be
tween two that are more advanced than itself: as geology stands
between mechanical and astronomical science on the .one side,
and chemistry on the other; the one is not allowed to trarnpla
upon the other; nor is it permitted that the infant science should
be oppressed or brow-beat by those that are more mature. As,
for example: — astronomdcal and rhechanical calculations may
seem totdemand the belief, that the earth is a hoUovv sphere; and
chemical science may appear to. favor the same supposition.
Meanwhile, the geologist is allowed to .collect his own sort of
evidence, bearing upon the matter of fact, and to pursue his own
mode of reasoning upon the probable history of the crust of the
earth, and to deduce thence his conjectures, without being iutim-
idated by either the astronomical calculation, or the chemiqal
theory: and in whatever result his inductions may issue, that re
sult would never be scouted because not easily reconciled with
the doctrine derived from another line of reasoning. The ,mod-
esty of true philosophy bequeaths such apparent discordances to
the sagacity and industry of a future age. . ' -
The reason of this procedure is obvious, — An inference de
rived from an undoubted' fact has no retrospective efficiency to
invalidate that fact. An inference drawn from one fact may stand
opposed td an inference resulting from another. But 'these facts
cannot affect each other circuitously through their inferences, as
a medium of communication; for this were to give to them such
a retrospective power. The two facts stand independently
ou their proper evidence, and send forth their branching conse
quences irrespectively of each other. It might happen that some
remote consequence of 'the truth that 90 is to 115, as 18 to 23,
might seem to interfere with a remote consequence from the
other truth, that the sum of the squares of the two sides is equal

137

the square of the hypothenuse of a right-angle triangle. But
no force of seeming inconsistency could' invest such a conse-
qu*noe with the power of making the other verity untrue. If so,
then the practice of reasoning retrogressively, through infer
ences, from fact to fact, is a fallacious practice; and one which
will not be-resorted lo by those who respect the principles of phi
losophical logic. It is not at all more reasonable to have recourse
to this method where one of the facts is more certainly known
than the other, than it is in those cases where both are equally
certain. For it can have no place unless this less clearly kijown
fact is first assumed to be false, which is a mere petitio principii.
So long as divines continue, in opposition to the methods of all
true science,- to adjust among themselves differences of interpre
tation, by the aid of abstract principles, they cannot complain
when atheists reject Christianity altogether, by another applica
tion of the same sort of argufaent. It must be allowed to be a
legitimate mode of reasoning to say— ^Certain ancient writings
could not have existed in the age of Nero; for the material world
affords no conclusive evidence of having sprung from an intelli
gent Cause: — if it be also a true method of interpreting those
writings to control, or revise the grammatical sense of words, at
the demand of metaphysical abstractions. This is an evil too old
to pass away in a day: yet must it pass away: and the tendency
of all events is to sweep it, ere long, into the ocean of things for-.
gotten or contemned. Note I. p. £9.
It was not to be expected that the men who, in the second and
third centnries, came oyer to the church from schools of philoso
phy, or schools of rhetoric, should forget the habits of mind they
had acquired, or should deny the fond wish to conciliate their old
philosophy with their new religion. And in coming among the
uninstructed faithful, it was natural that they should cherish and
employ the intellectual advantage they possessed over their new
associates, and should endeavor to shine as learned expounders
of Christian doctrine, when they had relinquished the honors of
secular learning. The style of philosophical exposition which
was set iii the second century, has only Changed names, and mas-
*12

138
ters, and phrases, from that time td this. The Reformers did indeei!
reject both Aristotle and the Pope, as authorities in matters of
religion; and they turned with a sincere and manly resolution to
the inspired writers, as the only teachers of doctrine. But they did
not rid themselves (any more than di4 the Platonic fathers) of
the intellectual ' habits which their educatioh had given them;
and while they looked to ths Scriptures alone, and looked to them
with all imaginable reverence, theif method of interpretation was
thoroughly metaphysical; — their rule of doctrinal harmony or
consistency was drawn from the logic of the middle ages; and the
method of interpreting Scripture; as Bacon taught the woTld to
interpret nature, entered not the mind of one of them.
The Reformers were commanding spirits, and they effected
the greatest revolution in human affairs that the world has wit
nessed. But an absolute pause has since ensued. The church
has seen, indeed, very many zealous and accomplished divines;
but no commanding spirits, from the age of Liilher and Calvin
to the present day. Interpretation is now almost what they left
it. Criticism has indeed been imriiensely advanced, and the
riches of erudition have been accumulated in vast masses around
the sacred text. But every interpreter follows his predecessors
in the wheel-way of his denomination; and leaves theology too
much what natural philosophy was at the time of the, publication
of the Novum Organum. It is imperfectly or dimly seen, that
the Bible is the work of the same Ha,nd that -built the world,
and must therefore be studied in the same method.
History is never so instructive as when single- and special
themes are pursued through the course of ages. It is m'uch to
be desired that a history of Biblical'exposition should be given to
the church. Not a history of criticism and erudition, but of
principles and theological philosophy. It should have its com
mencement with the earliest Jewish expositors, amonf whom
would be found the rudiments of all the- abuses, that have since
belonged to this department of intellectual labor.
Note K. p. 42.
Hume was far too sagacious, not to perceive'^ vvhat he was far
too astute tp tell his reader, that his argument against Christian-

139
ity, if good for any thing, ought to pass as a plough-share of de
struction over the entire field of human affairs. It is amazing
that'so much importance should have been attached to so puerile
a Conceit — a conceit which, if divested of its garb of philosophic
gravity, is vapid nonsense, that does not recommend itself even
by the ingenuity that often makes a foolish sophism amusing.
And yet such are the immunities and privileges granted to any
sort of sceptical argument, that this same sophism, refuted a
hundred times, is still respectfully regarded by writers of repute.
The proper answer, or at least a sufficient one, has very recently
been given (Edinburgh Rev. No. 104, Art. 'VI.) to a new expres
sion of Hume's quibble^ but given witli a reserve in favor of in
fidelity, and with a closing insinuation against the Christian evi
dences, for which it would have been far more manly to have sub
stituted a candid avowal ot unbelief. The author of the book, to
which, in this, and another instance, (Second preliminary Dis
sertation, prefixed to the 7th ed. of the Encycl. Brit. p. 354) an
importance is given that must have been founded on some other
reason than.its merits, urges the argument against Christianity
with all the simplicity of one who has never been reminded, that
it presses, with equal force, upon every transaction of common
life, and upon all the methods of modern science. The reason
ing of Essay III. on "the Fundamental Principle of all-Evidence
and Expectation," if sound, disperses with a breath (to lake one
example from a hundred) the modern chemistry; for it not only
proves it to be absurd to receive the testimony of experimenters
who describe any other combination of substances than those we
have personally observed, but it forbids a man to believe ev^n the
evidence of his own senses, when a new phenomenon meets
him! Is this philosophy? if not, what epithet shall we bestow
upon it? In every case of a deviation from that order of events
which hitherto we have observed, instead of either questioning
the evidence of our senses, or resolutely refusing to receive good
and abundant testimony, and instead of supposing that a dissolu
tion of the connection of cause and effect has happened, we sim
ply presume that some new and unknown cause has come in to
disturb the usual course of events. This presumption is the very
instrument of all discovery in experimental philosophy. Every
new, or unexpected, or inexplicable appearance, (and such are of

140

very frequent occurrence in a course of chemical experiment)
suggests the conviction that sn iinknown cauee is present; then
follows the hypothesis which is to guide the way in making fresh
experiments, with the view of detecting the hidden power. Now
this process is not merely abstractedly reasonable, but has been
abundantly authenticated by the actual results of such processes.
If such a case may at all be supposed as that adduced by the
author of these Essays — namely, the testimony of many credible
witnesses to the fact, that a cubic inch of ice remained undis
solved when exposed to the heat of a furnace; instead of taking
the course which he recommends — that of rejecting, by a vio
lence upon our own convictions, the testimony of a hundred com
petent and unexceptionable witnesses, we, in the spirit of true phi
losophy, should first Accept the fact so attested as indubitable; and
should then confidently presume^not that Nature had forgotten
her laws in that instance, but that some extraordinary cauge was
present to intercept the operation o'f heat upon ice. With- the
hope of discovering this extraordinary agent, we should rigidly
examine all the circumstances of the experiment, — should frame
every conceivable hypothesis, and should'put each in turn to the
test; and if after all we failed in our endeavors, should simply
record the fact as unexplained, and bequeath it to the next age,
when perhaps a perfected philosophy may clear up this, and many
other difficulties. '
But now let it be supposed, that the hundred competent per
sons who have affirmed that, in their presence; ice remained un
dissolved in a furnace, were to explain the matter, by saying that
the water, before its congelation, had been im[lregnated with a
newly-discovered chemical agent, which' had the property of con
verting water into an indissoluble crystal. If this aflirmation'be
also properly atteste'd, then, what inconsistency remains? — none;
except on the part of the sceptic, who had declared, in the true
style of ignorance, that, "nobody should make him believe what
he had not seen with his own eyes.'' ' '
It is scarcely necessary to apply the argument to the case of
the Christian miracles. The author of ,these Essays admits, page
268, that our involuntary belief of the uniformity of causation,
compels us to suppose that "the admirable appearances of design"
exhibited by the material world, have been the production of an

141

"intelligent cause;'' and that this cause is "wise and benevolent,"
Here,.5(hen, he affirms and alleges the presence of a cause suffi
cient, and strictly proper, for the production of the unusual ef
fects spoken of by the witnesses. It is, therefore, no longer ne
cessary either to suppose an interruption of the principle of caus
ation, or to stand aghast, as he would have us, between two
incompatible proofs; for the witnesses, whose veracity is granted
(p. 262) to be established on the ordinary principles of human
''nature, not only affirm the occurrence of the unusual event, but
affirm it in a connection that renders the entire testimony intel
ligible and rational. They declare that, to authenticate the doc
trine of a future life, He who is the author of life opened the
- eyes of one born' blind; and is not this proposition as reasonable,
abstractedly, as the other proposition, "that God formed the eye
to see?" On occasion of meeting with such an affirmation, the
only question we have to do with, concerns the credibility of the
witnesses. It is already admitted, that the same wise and be
nevolent Being who gives sight to the million at birth, may, if he
pleases, afterwards grant it to the one who received it not then.
"Has he so pleased?" this is the single doubt; and it is to be re
solved by application of the established rules of historical evi
dence. Note L. p. 43.
To affirm that the doctrine of materialism is innoxious, ot- at
least, that it is a. matter of indifference to religion, may startle
£ome readers. The assertion is advanced with a subjoined con
dition. A philosophical system ihay have an inlferent and insep
arable, or.an accidental and relative mischievous tendency: that
is td say, it may be directly hostile to the great principles of
morals and religion, so as to be susceptible of no modification or
accommodation which can render' it consistent with those prin
ciples; or it may produce ill consequences solely by some misin
terpretation, or unfounded inference; or by clashing with some
existing popular prejudice. Thus, for example, the doctrine of
necessity, as advanced by Diderot; and that of causatioii, as ap
plied to testimony, by Hume; can, neither of them, be recon
ciled with the principles pf religion, any more than with other

142

parts of the economy of human life. They are intlrinsically in
imical to man, and might safely be rejected, unexamined, simply
because they stand in contrariety to all the sciences, as well as
to the constitution and universal sentiments of human nature.
But a system, such as the idealism of Berkeley, which leaves
all relatidns and sentiments, just what it found them, and is in fact
a pure theory, without inference, cannot be affirmed to have any
intrinsic quality hostile to the principles of morality or religion.
Nevertlieless, it may happen that, among those who must under
stand whatever they hear in a gross sense, the doctrine that noth
ing exists, or can exist, but mind, might produce some danger
ous perplexity. This ill Qonsequence is cl'early accidental, and
an equal inconvenience might happen to result from'the best
established truths. Or, to take another, instance: — an inference
unfavorable to revealed religion' has been hastily derived by its
enemies, from some facts ofgeological science; and the ground
less fears of the friends of religion have encouraged the ill inten
tions of infidels. But in these cases all the mischief has arisen
either from a misunderstanding of the facts, or from an unwar
rantable deduction of consequences.
Now the case is parallel in the instance of the-dbctrine of ma
terialism. It may become pernicious by a popular misinterpreta
tion, or by a malignant and sophistical comment, framed by those
who are ever ready to take bad advantage of the ignorance of the
multitude. But in its essence, this doctrine, false as it is, stands
precisely on a level with its antagonist, idealism, and leaves all
questions of morality and religion just what and where they
were. The question concerning the materiality or spirituality of
mind, resolves itself into a futile inquiry concerning the inner
form of substances (JYovum Organum) which is ^always indiffer
ent, both to theory and topractice. Whether heat be a diffused
substance, or a mode of movement; an emanation or a vibi-ation;
is unimportant both to science and to art. Such is the question
concerning the occult constitution of thought; — a question never
to be determined, but one which might be determined in this man
ner or in that, without in the remotest degree affecting (except by
vulgar prejudice) the doctrines of the immortality and future
responsibility of man — doctrines which rest on far surer grounds
than that of metaphysical demonstration.

143
Note M. p. 44.
The supernatural reaches us in the Scriptures not supernatur-
ally, but precisely in the same way in which all other matters,
conveyed by document, reach the parties interested. S holds a
reversionary claim to a title and estate by possession of parch
ments, the authenticity of which he can satisfactorily establish.
C holds an interest in the future life, also by writings, the va
lidity of which he can prove. The subject matter of the two deeds
or testaments affects not at all the mode of conveyance; and if
the claims of B and C are severally called in question, both must
defend their pretensions by the same process of argument; or, if
any abstract principia can be adduced_ which would destroy, u
priori, the heavenly expectations of C, it must at the same time
annihilate the secular hopes of B.
All the difficulty in 'the argument for Christianity proceeds
from the refual of the opponent to abide by the established condi
tions of documentary proof. This difficulty has been immeasur
ably enhanced by that fatal alliance between metaphysics and
religion, which theologians have encouraged — " et zelum reli-
gionis cEBCum et immoderatum." — JVor. Organum.
Note.N. p. 46.
The rude and laborious mechanical or chemical processes which
are carried on among a people destitute of physical science, may
be regarded' as standing parallel with those conventional maxims
of morality, and those imperfect social institutions, which exist
among the same nations, if not yet visited' by revealed religion.
Now, previously to the introduction of physical science among
such a rude people, the question might be started by them,
Whether the new principles may not be expected to impede,
baffle, and subvert, the existing arts? To this question it might
be replied. That the existing arts are nothing but science in a
broken or unconnected form: that is to say, single inferences
from single facts, accidentally discovered; and that, therefore,
when the entire course df nature, of which tliese facts are insu
lated parts, is known, the practical inferences must be more in
number, and more consistent one with another. In other words^
that the result of an extended knowledge of nature must be ben
eficial, because even a partial knowledge' of it is so.

144

The reply would be the same to a question concerning the util
ity of moral, or, we should say, Divine science. The uninformed
sentiments of mankind lead them to establish certain social
usages, which are found to be beneficial, and indeed necessary.
It may therefore be safely inferred, that a more extended or more
exact knowledge of the moral nature of man, such a knowledge
as Christianity imparts, will leq.d to better institutions, and will
suggest better rules of conduct. Now, for the same reason that
an uninformed pepple ought to reject a pretended system of j)hys-
ioal science which, instead of aiding their agriculture or their
manufactures, brought their whole industry to a stand; so might
they properly reject a moral philosophy which, instead of favor
ing the existing good principles of the people, asserted the ab
surdity of all moral sentiments, and told the multitude that there
are no actions that merit either praise or blame. Such a philo
sophy rests on the principle, that nature and man are at vari
ance; but physical science proves the contrary; and never makes
a discovery which does not a-new declare that nature is his
friend. Note O. p. 48.
The author would not bethought ignora^it of, the "Essay on
the Equity of Divine Government, and the Sovereignty of Divine
Grace," or unwilling to acknowledge the great and perhaps un
rivalled merit of the late Dr. Edward Williams: he cordially joins
in the praise which a philosophic ininority within the religious
world has bestowed upon that able and amiable divine. But
whatever his merits may be, as a profound and calm thinker, it
will hardly be affirmed that he has been much more successful
than was his predecessor and father, 'President Edwards, in his
endeavors to destroy the Biblical difference between Calvinists
and Arminians, by metaphysical distinction^. The Scriptural
system of Dr. Williams may be more consistent than the Scrip
tural system pf his opponents: and again, his philosophy is cer
tainly better than theirs. But has he brought philosophy to bear
upon the Religion of Texts, in any such manner as, by its
conspicuous success, to recommend that method of argument?
Some, whose opinions are entitled to much respect, would reply
ia the affirmative; and many would reply in the negative, whose

145

opinions, on matters of abstruse thought, are entitled to very
little. The reader may gather the writer's 'opinion, that the at
tempt to .decide matters of Christian-doctrine by abstract demon
stration, has not been placed in a decidedly more auspicious light
tlian before, by the/^Essay on Equity and Sovereignty." It may,
nevertheless,, be true, that that Essay occupies a very high place
of merit in the circle of modern theological literature.
.The author. mu^t here beg. to be excused ' from making any
explicit referenqe to some highly reputed modern writers on the
Arminian side of the'controversy, of vvhpm he could not speak
favorably as masters of intellectual science: and it comes not
within his province either to praise, or blame them as expounders
of Scripture. ,
Note P. p. 48.
¦ The limits Of a Bote would.be insufficient properly to explain
to those who may not hitherto have given attention to the sub
ject, that' remarkable condition of,- all the Divine operations
which makes them subserve, by one and the same constitution of
parts, or succession of causes undl effects, two, three, or rnore,- in
dependent purposes. No Single t«rm, has, as yet, been , authenti
cated by the usage of philosophical, writers whereby this admi
rable complexity and simplicity may be designated. And, inr
deed, the subject altogether has, received less attention than it
.deserves. Nevertheless every one knowithat the material world
abounds with inslsi.nces of this sort, — or,- to speak more properly,
tha,t the vyhole system of nature is a complex simplicity, — a ma
chinery which, with one set of powers and parts, and one contin
uous movement, accomplishes a great variety of ends; and yet
in such manner ^hat the entire machinery is specifically proper
to each pf.tliQse' purposes. ¦
The same; admirable principle presents itself again' to notice in
t,hat highly complicated- System of which man and his agency is
the subject; and it can-be in no other way than by an illustration
of this principle, thai the doctrine of Providence can be plaiyd
in the light, or free'd from urgent difficulties. The Divine oper
ations shew always the same character; ,arid the Bible' therefore
because it is the wqrk of God, is in this respect also in analogy
with nature and providence. — "Id etiam in omni majoro opera
13

146

ProvidentisB evenire reperitur; ut omnia sine strepitu let sonitu
plailde labantur; atque res plane agatur, .priusquam' hominfes
earn agi putent aut advertent." — Bacon. '
Note Q,. p. 49. -
It is a matter of some importance to understand • that relative
imperfection, and consequent uncertainty, of intellectual ' philo
sophy, in all its branches, which resul'ts'from the vagueness and
variableness of its signs pr tetos. ' The closeness of the con
nection between theory and practice, science and art, will be
found always to bear propbrtidn, n'ot so much to the comp^-ehen-
siveness or symmetrical perfection of thfe former, as to ils^^precision
and its fixedness. But preisision and fixedness can be secured only
by a rigorously exact system of notation;- • or, in the expeHmen-
tal 'sciences, by' an invariable and intelligible nomenclature. "This
.high advantage is enjoyed in the most absolute degrees by the
mathematical sciences: hence it is' that the connection or 'corres
pondence between the higher mathematics and those arts Of life
which are dependent upon them, is liable to no hesitation ol-
dispute. '
But let it be supposed (if'indeed such a suppdsitipn can be en
tertained) that mathematical triitlis were depirived of their ine.ans
of definite expression, and coijldi. only be inade known in-t>he
mode of a loose and changeable description.'. In this "case thp
practical or available value of tliese truths would be so much
lowered, that occasions would often arise -yhereiii the 'vulvar
rules — the nostrums of workmanlike- 'skill' and artisan experii
ence. Would be. safer guides than those high truths; and it would
be better that practical men should grope their way in the clumsy
methods of manual dexterity, than, tirust themselves' to the di
rection- of science. This never actually happens, b'ecause math
ematical science is rigorously exact in its tei^ms^ and -invariable
in its expressions.' - . , ¦ >
Yet this low relative value, or available significance, of scien
tific principles, is always the disadvantage of intellectual philb-
sofhy; afld hence it hardly ever comes foVwaxd to. direct or con
trol the business of life, w;ithout bringing with it an eqval chaiice
of deranging, confusing, or misdirecting the existing' course of
practice. Or, to state the same thing in other terms, so as to

147

place it in direct contrast withmathematieal science: — The value
of the principles of intellectual philosophy is so much depreciated
by the vagueness of its signs, that it can barely maintain equality
with (in fact is much inferior tp) the vulgar or popular axioms,
and maxims, and modes of procedure, which have grown out of
the common sense an^ experience of mankind.- In all practical
questions, therefore, it -is at least as safe to abide by those com
mon principles, as to follow the instructions of science. The
practical man, the statesman, the teac^her, and the 4ivine, should
d,o what the artisan ought to do, if mathematical science had no
precise language, that is — Ijsten much more to experience ahd
common sense than to. philosophy.
It follows froni the incurable imperfection of intellectual sci
ence, that when a pretended demonstration, derived from it, chal
lenges a right to disturb or. overrule any existing order of things,
which rests upon the 'basis of experience or known facts, the
good sens^ of mankind should send it home to the closet of Jhe
speculatist^whence it iss(|ed. And now, if it were asked, in what
relation the principles of intellectual philosophy stand to the affir
mations of our documentary religion; — we should find an answer
by recurring to the supposition, that the -mathematical sciences
possessed no definite or invariable Eign&, and -could only express
themselves in the language of- vague description; and should
then, moreover; suppose that a super-Tiuman intelligence, which
had at command the entire compass of these sciences in a definite
form, were to confer upon the mechanic arts a centenary of pre
cise, though unconnected rules pf practice, drawn from that ab
solute science. In suph a case, it would plainly be the wisdom
of artisans and practical men, rigidly to adhere, on all occasions,
to the hundred rules. Nor ooffld any thing be more unreasonaljle
than to stand hesitating between on e of these definite rules, and
some vague dogma of that unfixed science, which," having no
determinate medium of expression, could reach no certain con
clusions, and must always lie operfto inimense miscalculations.
It is unnecessary to apply our illustration to the case of the re
lation between metaphysical science and Christianity. But if the
reader thinks that the disadvantage of the former has here .been
too strongly stated, his attention is directed to some confession's on
this subject draw9 from unquestionable authorities. — "At verba

148

ex capta vulgi imponuntur. Itaque mala et inepta verborum
impositio, miris modis int,ellectum obsidit. Neque.definitipnes
aut explicationes, quibas hqmineS docti se munire et yindicare in
nonnullis oonsueverunt, rem ullo modo reslituant., Sed verba
plane vim faciunt intellectui, et- omnia turbant; et homines ad
inanes et innumeras controyersias et commehta deducunt."— -
Again: "Creduntihomines ratioijem suam verbis imperare; sed
fit, etiam ut verba vim suam super lintellectuin retorquant. et
reflectant;.quod philosophi^m. et scientias. reddidit sophisticas et
inactivas.": — JVov. Organ. .Aph. 43 et 59.
, Locke has enlarged upon the imperfection of words, with great
force and fulness, in many parts of his Essay on Human' Under
standing: the.reader hardly needs to be lefehed to the particular
passages: he will doubtless call to mind the ninth, chapter of the
third book. Leibnitz, sp'eaks to the. same effect, lleid says: "The
language of philosophers, .With, regard to the original, faculties of
the mind, is . so adapted to th.e prevailing system, that it caiindt
fit ahy other; like a eoat that fits the nijin for whom it was made,
and shews him to advantage, which yet will sit veTy awk'wardly
upon one of a different make, although perhaf)S as handsome, and
as well proportioned. It is hardly possible to inake any innova
tion in our philosophy concerning the mind and its. operations,
without using new words and phrases, or giving a different mean
ing to those that are reoe.ive^."-h1rtq)iiry, chap. i. sect 2.
Dugald Stewart professes, more than once, his indistin'ct hope,
that the project of a philosophical language might be realised, in
order to obvi-ate the inconveniences >hat arise from the use of an
instrument of thojight which was constructed by the vulgar, and
with no view to the purposes of science. See Elempnts, chap.
iv. sect. 4. See alsp chap. vii. sect. 2. p. 495-. 3d edition.
"And here I cannot help pausing a httle," skys the«atae elP-
gant writer, "to remark how much more imperfect langiiage is than
is commonlij supposed, as an organ of mental intercourse." — Phi
losophical Essays, p. 207, Sd^^dition.
But, perhaps, this great and incurable -disadvantage has'never
been more forcibly • represented than by a distinguished living
writer, who. so strongly states the difficulty with, which the intel
lectual and mof-al philosopher has to contend, that the reader
would te almost justified in at once withdrawing his attention

149

ttom a science which, by the confession of so competent a mas
ter, can never become seienHfic. Sea the Introduction to the
Dissertation onthe Progress of Ethical Philosophy, by Sir James
Mackintosh, prefixed to the 7th ed. of the Encyc. Brit.
Note R. p. 54.
That want of a precise and invariable notation, adverted to in
the last note, which has hithe'rto, and which must, perhaps,
always rest as a capital disadvantage'upoh metaphysical science,
and deprive it of almost all direct utility, need not impede the
progress of the physiology of thb-human mind; if this latter
science were entirely severed from the former. For a knowledge
of nature, in any department, may bP conveyed in a descriptive
form, to which an absolute precision of terms is not essential.
A science may properly be said to have passed its period of
infancy, or to have reached a decree of maturity, when the ex
istence of sects and oppositions wilhin its precincts is no longer
possible^ — or 'when its first principles, or jta more, important de
ductions, are no longer liable to be called in question by well-
informed men. "Thus, it may safely be saidjHhat though niathe-
matical, astronomical,- mechanical, and 'pBysical science, may
hereafter receive important additions, they have attained their
maturity, and will ndt again be utterly subverted. Chemistry is
reaching, 'or has reached, this maturity. Quite so much must
not be affirmed of Geology.'' Political Economy stands perhaps
on the same stage of hope^il growth.- Far Tjelow it rests that
system of quackery (founded,.nevertheless, oniealand important
facts) to which the improper term phrenology has been assigned.
IP the phase infancy is thought to he unseemingly applied to a
science so ancient as metaphysics, the author can think pf hone
other that . would be appropriate,, unless the analagous word
<{o2a^e were admitted in lieu of it. '
. Note S. p. 58.
If the author were called upon to justify his assertion, that the
modern philosophy of the human mind is, for the most part, a
mere system of abstractions^ he would think it enough to appeal
*]3

150 '-'*''
to that anxious trimming of phrases, which characterises all the
more substantial portions of Brown's Lectures, and which belongs
not less to the argument of later vvriterS who have disputed his
positions. The assertion is confidently advancedj'that no branch
of physics, whatever be its subject, demands this solicitous
nicety, or will be prdmoted, by the use of it.
Note T. p. 61.
The reader need not be reminded, that the application of the
word instinct comprehensively, and without distinction, to all
the actions of the brute orders, is a popula.r impropriety. One
might as well call all the actions of man rational, as p,ll those of
the inferior tribes instinctive. When an animal. acts in a manner
which differs in no essential circumstance from a corresponding
action in man, a delusion must pe engendered by applying to the
two actions different terms. ..3 and -B are transacting business
together, and behave very much in the same manner; But .S
has far more intelligence, and more learning, and more virtue,
than B. Shall we therefore say that jj acts and speaks rationally,
and B instinctively? This were to introduce a distinction which
belongs not to the real points of 'difference. We should confine
the word instinct to those iiistances in which a course rational^
as to its end, is pursued by a voluntary agent, under circum
stances which forbid the supposition that it springs from a per
ception or calculation of the connection of means and end. The
instance usually adduc-ed, that of the constructidn of the honey
comb, is one of the most proper that .can be named, especially
because it irivolves some of the highest and most abstruse prin
ciples of geometry. '
. Though man also has his instincts^ as they are not of the sort
which supply the want of reason (which he possesses), they
afford him little aid in interpreting those operations by which, in
animals, reason is anticipated or supplanted. Philosophical wri
ters must be understood td use the words reason and instinct in
a popular sense, when attributing the one to man as his preroga
tive, and the other tp the brute as its blind faculty.- The terms
reason and instinct 'thus vaguely, used, meau-rmore reason, and
less reason. "Bruto, qwimvis ratione et libertate destituto," says

151

Leibnitz, "pcsnas infiiglmus, cum id ad correctionem ejus quid
confere posse judicamus; sio canes et equi mulctantar, idque
felioi cam successu." But if the brute were altogether destitute
of reason and liberty, inthe same sense in which the bee is desti
tute of both in building her cells, rewards and punishments
could have no operation or efficiency.
Note U. p. -65.
The precise term employed to designate the incessant activity
of mind, or tjie constant succession of thoughts, is of very little
or no importance to physiology. - "Those phrases which,have been
the subject of so much debate among modern writers, take their
sense and propriety from the particular doctrine thatiis enter
tained relative tp the law or laws that regulate the succession of
mental states. The-term that is chosen must depend upon the
answer given to the question — What is the connecting principle
that makes one thought or emotion, rather than another, succeed
to the one which last,occupiBd the mind? The fact of an inces
sant succession of thoughts, is independent of such inquiries;
and no one who attentively observes the manners of any active
animal, can doubt that this constant movement belongs as well
to the brute as to-the human mind.
Note W. p. 67. .
It hfis been related, that a horse, pinched in shoeing, and
turned out to field, has made hfs way, by leaping several fences,
to the farrier's shop, and there pr^sent^d the uneasy foot to the
careless artist, who had so negligently exercised his craft. This,
if true, is something more than association of ideas; for that
principle would have led^the nag^any where rather than to the
shop where he had recently been so ill treated. Ponies that
have been long upon the same farm, not unfrequently acquire so
high a degree of dexterity (if the word may be applied to the use
of teeth ahd lips), in .opening the fastenings of gates, that it
becomes a very difficult matter to confine them to a particular
pasture; and the cphtrivances resorted to for baffling their inge
nuity suppose more or less of a corresponding faculty of inven-

tion. A horse shut up loose in a small stable, will with his nose
break any glass within his reach; as it seems, for the purpose of
admitting fresh air: this, too, implies a process of inferetice.
The horse' of the Bedouin, who is a member of his family, a
guest at his. table, and a party in every occurrence, acquires a
degree of mtelligence, as well as of docility, which very far
surpasses any thing seen elsewhere. But even im England,
where the horse is a slaVe and a captive, and is required td per
form a quantity of labor which breaks the spirit; some few indi
viduals display a sagacity that inust appeai: incredible to those
who see this noble aiiimal only when performing h!s task upon
the road; A personal Icnowledge of the sensibilities pnd mental
qualities of the horse would tend to ab^te the cruel demands
made often upon his bodily- pqwerS Uy business 'oi-' pleasure. "The
pleasure-loving and the busy should remember, thit'if a hoi'sP is
a.machine, he is a, conscious iaa.6hine, ''
. Note X. p. 68. -,
Offence ought not to be taken at the employment of these
terms, in speaking of the more intelligent species of animals.
The distance which divides man from the brute is indeed great;
and that must be a most erroneous philosophy which wonld re--
duce it to a mere difference'of degree, or shade of superiority.
And while we distinctly apprehend the nature of that distinction,
and keep in mind the elements which constitute the moral and
intellectual dignity of man, no danger can arise from allowing to
the inferior orders all the excellence they may fairly challenge..
On the contrary, (as the author thinks) those attempts which
have so often been made to degrade hiiman nature to the level of
the brute, are best met by a strictly conducted comparison, whicji,
after exhibiting with truth and adv.antage. the powers and capa
bilities of the inferior families of the sentient system, holds forth
distinctly the new and higher elements of tJie human constitution.
Thus is human nature seen 'to raise itself to the suhamit of a lofty
scale, and to take its rank far above the highest of the subordinate
species. Shall we say that in this method the paramou/it dignity
of man is enhanced by the' display of its relative nobility!
"Illud pro certo asseri possit," says Bapon, {de Augmentis,Mh.
ii. u. 2.) "grandia exempla hand optitnan aut tutissimam afferre

153

ittformationem. Id quod exprimitur non insulse in pervulgati
ilia fablila de jihilosopho, qui, cum Stellas, sublatis oculis, intuer-
etar, incidit in aquam: nam si oculps demississit, Stellas illico in
aqua videre potuisset; verum suspiciens in coelum, aquam in
stellis videre nori potuit. Eodem modo ssepe accidit, ut res
•minutffi et humilies plus conferunt ad notitiam grandium, qu4m
grandes ad notitiam minutariim." Good text for a new Essay on
the Human Understanding! f' Note Y. p. 69.
If the fhrase fiinctioiial equality needs explanation; it may thus
be given. — When the stomach and mouth of the lion or tiger are
examined, there is seen an apparatus fitted for the trituration
and decomposition of large masses of animal substance—muscle,
ligament, and bone: we find accordingly, ih the mechanical
structure of the mighty eater, the highest degree of muscular
power and igility, such as are requisite for the p-ursuit and con-
qifest of the largest ptey. - Here is the first set of correspon
dences. But these o.rgans and instruments would be useless,
unless the mental constitution of the animal were in harmony
with its bodily mechanism. Fierceness, courage, promptitude,
wariness, patience; are the qualities'that are the proper concom
itants of such'a stomach, and of such gastric agents. The ani
mal exhibits a perfe.ct equipoise of organs, functions, and pro
pensities. What were the chylopoetic viscera of the tiger, con
joined with the temper and mental faculty of the ox?
On a like principle, the' high dignity and noble destiny of man
might, with the strictest reason, be argued in detail from the
parts and correspondences of his physical conformation.
Note Z. p. 75.
When the composition of forces in circular movements, or the
path of projectiles, or the acceleration of falling bodies', or when
the diminution of the' intensity of heat, according to the distance
of its emanation, or when the velocity of sound, and a hundred
other laws of the material -world, are at once ascertained by
experiment, and demPnstrated abstractedly by mathematical

154

science; and when it is found that the theoretic or hypothetical
reasoning is borne out by experiment; not only is the ' certainty
of the two methods of investigation established by their exact
agreement; but we are furnished with a striking proof of the
a))sdlute harmony which reigns through the universe; at least in
every instance in which we Jiave the oppprtunity of bringing in-»
dependent principles into comparison. Let it be remembered, that
no possible coristitijition of the material world could have made
mathematical truths other than they are. Whatever might have
been the mechanical principles -of ihe -universe; whatever the
composition or powers of its elements; certain curves could have
had no other properties than thoSe they actually possess; and'the
relation between the square and the cube in numbers must haVe
remained unalterable. -Now, when' it is found that the material
system actually and precisely conforms itself to these unchange
able (shall we say. eternal?) principles, we may either suppose
that-the . agreeip^nt is the product of the wisdom of the Creatdr,'
who has so adjusted the machinery of the universe to those unal
terable truths; or we may affirm that it is. the result of a necessary
relationship; that is to- Say, that the liiedhariical Or chemical law
could he no other than an expression df mathematical principles.
The inference -H^ould be nearly the same in either case. If what
may seem the more religious supposition be adopted, then we
may confidently assume, that He who has followed the rule of a
perfect harmony in one part of his 'wofk, has done so also in other
parts. Or if we take the latter supppsition, that the correspon
dence between mathefnatical, mechanical, and chemical principles
is nothing more . than a necessary relation, then we may, with a
like confidence,-, assume that the Jawrof relation runs through the
universe; and if, in turning from mathematical and mechanical
to metaphysical science, we find an exact correspondence be-
twe'en all truths and facts on the one side, while on the other,
nothing presents itself but an inexplicable — an astounding con-
trariet}', nothing but "whimsical inconsequences," the presump
tion against the latter will fall little short of a demonstration of
its falseness.
There ought to be the same soi-t of concord between the physi
ology of man and abstract or metaphysical truth, which we find

155

to exist between mathematics, and mechanics, and optics, and
acoustics, and chemistry. But now, Ut it be supposed for a mo
ment, that a discordancy between these sciences were discovered;
what course should then be taken, or how should we decide be
tween "abstraction and experiment? We reply, that the abstract
science, having the advantage of a perfect system of notation,
must be allowed to stand its ground in opposition to experiment;
for this reason, — that in the investigation of nature by the method
of experiment, there must be assumed, in almost every case, a.
possibility of error, arising either from the faultness of our method.
Or its incompleteness; for it may happen that some hidden cause
has escaped our observation.
The case is just reversed in the instance of an apparent con
trariety between metaphysical science, and the knowledge of hu
man nature as acquired by common observation. For the for
mer, possessing only a vague, variable, and fallacious system of
notatidii, is destitute of demonstrative force; and its Conclusions
can scarcely ever rise to the level of indisputable truth. On the
contrary, fhe common knowledge of humanjiature has an advan-
^tage even over physical experiment, inasmuch as in its great
principles, itjests not on the observa,tions of a few philosophers,
but is attested by the consciousness and conduct of all mankind.
In a word, mathematical and experimental philosophy stand
related to each other, in' respect of their certainty, nearly as
equations; the difference being against the latter by the amount
of a very small deduction for possible error. But no absolute
estimate' can be formed of the relation between metaphysical
science- and the experimental, knowledge of human nature, be-
cai^se no positive or definite expression can be given of the phi
losophical value of, the former. In any particular instance it is
as if, in looking to.the data of a problem in arithmetic, the figures
expressing one of the quantities Were blurred, or partly oblitera
ted, so that it was impossible to decide, whether it should be read
901- or -001.
Note a a. p. 77.
The limits and intention of this Essay forbid that any exempli
fication should be attempted of that method of combined obSer-

156

vstion and analysis, of which the developement of the faculties
during the season of infancy rnight be the subject. The speci
mens of this kind that are afforded .by Brown*, (as in Lecture
zxiii. vol. i. p. 514), have in them far too much that is metaphy-..
sical, and far too little tha.t is physiological. We should suppose
that the lecturer constructed, his illustrations in his study, rather,
than drew them from the nursery.
Note B B. p.279.
The transfer or attachment of the irascible feelipg to its
object takes place inuch later than its developement as a vague
emotion. The infant is petulant a^id irascible, long before it
conceives anger against the silpposed author of an injury. But
the periods of the rise of these 'and other emotions vary by the
difference of many months; .and the variation indicates the char
acter, and might sometimes suggest the specific method, df
education. ' -
Note C C.' p. 80.
Nearly all the descriptions whichi President Edwards gives of
the process of volition (for example, in the first and second part
of his Inquiry), are trUe only pf certain complex instances of
determination, wherein antagonist desires are present to the
mind. It seemed to him necessary to his argument, to display
the mental operation at large, in order to exhibit the influence'of
the predominant desire, and by .that means to proye that the
volition is ruled by motive, and is not contingent. But volitjon
is not contingent, that is to say, is not uncaused, even though
there be (as often) no predominant desire; or when, after a
longer or shorter conflict, the mind decides,'not by what seemed
the strongest desire, but by a new and unimportant suggestion,
springing up at the moment when the bodily powers are standing
(if we might so speak) waiting for command.
Note D D. p. 81.
Brown, inthe Leclure just above referred to, and iri other
places, talks of the reasoning process as belonging to the very

157

first exertion of the muscular powers. Does he not in these in
stances suppose far more than is contained in the phenomena?
We should imagine any thing as soon as a reasoning from the
past to the future in the mind of a babe. The lecturer's hypoth
esis on the subject of cause and effect, leads him naturally to
impute a mental process where none makes itself evident.
Note E E. p. 82.
Itis very much the aim of education to cultivate the faculty
of continued, or, as it is called, close attention. And there can be
no doubt that this power is of high importance, and much needed
in all the occasions of life. But the power of attending to more
objects than one at the same time, and of suddenly directing the
whole force of the mind from one object to another, is not less
important, though far less cultivated or thought of. It may be
added, that the power of complex attention recommends itself by
its connection with the moral faculties. The habit of thinking
comprehensively may be called — a means of virtue.
Note F F. p. 86.
In modern times, the business of government in relation to the
people is almost confined to the prevention and punishment of
crimes. But this was only a branch of the care of the legislator
in ancient Greece, in Persia, and in Rome. To protect, and
cherish, and reward the virtue of the people (that is to say, the
specific national virtue), was the first and principal object of
every institution; the punishment of crime was but an incidental
affair. A proposition to revive in its completeness this ancient
idea of government, would seem in the highest degree romantic
or puerile. Yet it is by no means certain that something of the
kind might not be attempted. But it is a paternal or patrician
work so to educate the people, and one that implies a restoration
of the long-lost relative sentiments which should connect the
higher with the lower classes. High principles and vivid senti
ments of public virtue, must, tp some extent, prevail among the
aristocracy of a country, if the lower orders are to be thought of
otherwise than as a hostile power, that must be held at bay by
14

158
force and skill. Sad derangement of social (order,:when the noble
and the rich stand related to the people rather as protected pro
prietors of the national wealth, than, as conservators of the com
mon prosperity ! It must not be affirmed that England has reached
' this stage of political dissolution. On the contrary, it may be
hoped that a restorative process has, within the last few years,
been goingon; and that the idea of a true patriotism has been
brought out to view, and has received some practical homage
among public men. Note G G. p. 87.
While viewing human nature and the history of man as an
object of physiology, it would be quite improper to entertain the
ological distinctions, or to inquire into the cause of those higher
and more intimate reformations — reformations of the spirit, which
Christianity challenges as its triumphs, and teaches us to ascribe
to an emanation of Divine influence. These restorations of the
true and original beauty of the human soul, whatever may be
their cause, take place in accordance with the constitution of the
human mind, not in subversion of its principles of movement,
and are at once truly divine and truly natural. But putting these
emphatic instances out of the question, it is a commo^i thing for
emendations of character, within certain limits, to take place
(eyen after the plastic season of youth is gone by), in consequence
of cogitation, and of persevering effort, directed or guided by
an abstract idea of excellence. Note H H. p. 88.
The operations of invention and abstraction, and, for the same
reason, the moral operation of self-advancement, are open probably
to a complete analysis. To analyse them falls not within the in
tention of this Essay.' But the author requests the reader to bear
in mind, that no practical inference depends upon such an analy
sis, so long as the fact that these operations are within the power
of human nature, remains unquestionable. It might, to take an
illustration, have been said to the author of "Sir Charles Grandi-
son," "Conceive the idea of finished virtue apd honor, and em-

159

body that idea in a fictitious narrative." The imposition of such,
a task would not have seemed preposterous, — it would have been
only to call into exercise an existing faculty. But instead of
imposing this literary task, let it have been said to the same per
son, "Conceive the idea of virtue passing unhurt through scenes
of temptation and trial, and embody the idea in your otcn conduct
and temper. If motive be wanting, think of the present and the
future rewards of goodness." It may be said, that this latter task
is one of far greater difficulty than the first. True: but the second,
not less than the first, is a reasonable requirement, founded upon
the existence of certain faculties in the person to whom the pro
position is made. And, moreover, if the second task be more
difficult than the first, it stands related to a motive incomparably
more powerful: all that is needed for overcoming the greater
difficulty, is to bring the infinite motives home upon the mind.
Now, as it is not necessary first to analyse the process of inven
tion before we can reasonably demand from a writer a work ' of
fiction, having a given object; so neither is it necessary to effect
n corresponding analysis before men can reasonably be required
to cultivate virtue. Nor could any result of such an analysis
nullifiy the reasonableness of the demand. If the metaphysician
says, I have resolved what you term the process cf self-education
into a series of physical causes; no sense can be assigned to such
an affirination which would discharge from the natui-al history of
man, the fact, that reformation is a frequent event, or, which
wonld impugn the inference, that it may reasonably be looked
for an(^ demanded from mankind. He may as well deny to man
the power of locomotion, who denies him the natural faculties of
virtue. Note I I. p. 89.
The author would not omit the opportunity of recommending to
the reader "An Essay on Moral Freedom," by the Rev. Thomas
TuUy Crybbace, A. M. The fourth and fifth sections of that
essay bear upon the subject of the damage or injury of the moral
nature of man, for which the Gospel provides a remedy. The
work throughout will well repay an attentive perusal. — The same,
notwithstanding some imperfections, may he said of a volume

160

recently published,'' "On the Work of the Holy Spirit in
Conversion," by the Rev. J. Howard Hinton. In this, and
some similar works of the day, a hopeful effort is evidently mak
ing to throw off the corruptions of that putrid Christianity, which
has too long poisoned all the atmosphere in some quarters of the
religious world. It is a circumstance of much significance, that
the cleansing energy has sprung up in the nearest vicinity of the
evil. Note K K. p. 97.
The correspondences between the astronomical position of the
earth, and the structure and physiology of plants, are many and
admirable. That quick alternation of temperature which' is
occasioned by its diurnal rotation, is essential to the mechanical
contrivance by which the ascent of sap is effected. Then, again
this alternate heat and cold, by the chemical change it produces
on the atmosphere, and within the plant, is necessary to the
respiratory fuiictions of the vegetable system. Again, the alter
nation of the seasons, resulting from the inclination of the earth's
axis to the plane of its orbit, is the very basis of vegetable life.
The one system of contrivances supposes the existence of the
other, and the wellbeing of the one depends upon its relation to
the other. Animal life, in like manner, is one complex mass of
relations to the mechanical and chemical laws of the world; and
if the human mind were exempt from such relationship, it would
not only be an amazing anomaly in the universe, but could hold
no intercourse or sociality whatever with the external world.
Note L L. p. 111.
"Non tamen inter heec existimandum, libertatem nostram in
indeterminatione, aut indifferentia quadara sequilibrii sitam esse;
quasi asqualiter in utramque partem, et adfirmativam, et negativam,
ac in plures partes diversas propendere oporteret, cum plura nobis
eligenda proponuntur. Hoc sequilibrium usquequaque impossi-
bile est; nam si sequaliter propenderemus in tria eligibilia. A, B,
et C, non possemus tequaliter propendere in A et non A.

161

"Hoc ffiqnilibriam etiam prorsus adversatur experientise et ubi
nostra intus scrutabimur adtentius, semper aliquam causam, sive
rationem, adfuisse deprehendemus quie nos in eam, quam amplexi
sumus, partem inclinavit, quamvis frequenter id, quod nos movet,
non percipiamus; plane sicut vix peroipimus, quare, porta aliqua
egredientes, pedem dextrum sinistro, vel sinistrum dextro, prce-
posuerimus," — Theodic. pars i. § 35.
Leibnitz does not here deny the possible equality of eligibles,
but the absolute indifference of the mind towards them. The
demonstration contained in the first paragraph is, like many such
demonstrations, very convincing in form, but totally inapplicable
to the subject, and therefore of no value. , The appeal to conscious
ness in the second paragraph is pertinent, and it supposes, though
H does not assert, that mode of determination by the suggestion
of the moment, which is referred to in the Essay.
The course of human life is replete with occasions, in which, by
the choice of one path where two or more of equal promise present
themselves (a choice not determinable by moral considerations),
the entire .fortune of after-life is made other than it might have
been. It is not easy to shew why such occasions should not
belong to a future and a moire perfect state, as well as to this. In
fact, to deny their occurrence demands the supposition of either a
state of absolute inertness, or an immediate control of the, agency
of intelligent beings by the Divine power, or the abstract impossi
bility of both real and apparent equivalents. So few elements of
cogitation relating to the future life are afforded to us in the Scrip
tures (our only guides), and these elements are so exclusively of
a moral order, that we almost unavoidably take up a very restricted
conception of that future condition of human nature, which is to
give a full expansion to its original powers. The great difficulty
of conjoining an enlarged conception of the future life, with the
idea of freedom from all that is evil, leads the devout mind (and
perhaps properly) to confine itself to the elementary and para
mount sentiment which is gathered from devotional exercises.
Note M M. p. 114.
There is, perhaps, nothing more inconceivable (we do not say
<iat it is incredible) than the doctrine that the production of or-

' i i i i ^<

162

ganised bodies, vegetable and animal, is a developement of the
parts and properties of the microscopic seminal element. Rather
than believe this, the miiTd gladly acquiesces in the belief of an
immediate exertio'h of creative power in pach instance^ But veg
etable Had iiaima.1 functions are easily attributed to mechanical and
chemical powers in operation upon the organs of life. Yet, per
haps, it is more philosophical to believe that the idea of difficulty
or of facility, in the one case or the other, springs altogether from
the infiuence of an idolum tribus, "estque intellectus humanus
instar speculi inBequalis,'' &c.
The construction of a plant or animal, being assumed as the im
mediate effect of creative power and intelligence, and the laws of
the material world, the properties or powers of heat, and the chem-
ical.properlies of air, water, earth, &c. being supposed, then the
changes that take place in the history of the organised body are
all resolvable into so many relations of proportion, or equilibrium,
or equivalence, precisely in the same way that the movements of
a machine are so resolvable. Note N N. p. 115.
Brown usually misunderstands and misrepresents (not wilfully,
but by force of his own conceptions) the sens.e of his predecessors.
A glaring instance occurs in his attempt (Lecture VI.) to convict
Locke of a sophism. Nothing can be more superficial than his
own sophism on the subject of physical antecedents and conse
quents. But it is one which runs through his philosophy, and to
be effectively exposed must be follovvred from beginning to end of
his four volumes. In illustration of the principle, that a real
relation of fitness or equality is the actual connexion between
physical events, the reader is referred to the passage in the "Essay
on Human Understanding," upon which Brown makes his coin-
ment. — Book iv. chap. iii. sect. 25, and this compared with "Novum
Organum," lib. ii. aph. vi. vii. &c.
Without adopting either the mechanical theories once so much
in vogue, and now so much contemned; or the chemical hypothe
sis, to which more respect is paid in our times; it may be assumed,
asinot altogether improbable, that some such advances will be
made in physical science as may confirm the conjectures of Locke,

163

and, m part, realise the glowing anticipations of Bacon; and, at
the same time, expose to greater and greater contempt the modern
' metaphysical doctrine of causation. It is consolatory to perceive
that, while certain modern dialecticians announce confidently,
that science must stop short at a point which they have indicated —
the professors of natural science adhere to a philosophical modesty
— a modesty which is nurse of hope, and mother of invention, and
allow it to be possible that our successors may know incomparably
more than ourselves. "This may, however, be a rash inference
(that because the hidden powers of nature have not hitherto been
discovered, they never will); Bacon, after all, may be in the right,
and we may be judging under the influence of the vulgar preju
dice, which has convinced men in every age that they had reached
the farthest verge of human knowledge. This must be left to
the decision of posterity; and we should rejoice to think that
judgment will hereafter be given against the opinion, which at
this moment appears most probable." — Third Dissertation, by
Professor Playfair, Ency. Brit. 7th ed. p. 474.
A noble confession, and worthy of a philosopher! How unlike
the cold dogmatism that reigns in the modern science of mind!
But the spirit of philosophy is to be looked for only among those
whose minds have been trained under the infiuence of real and
substantial sciences.

YALE UNIVERSITY L

3 9002 08561 7547

S^««'» * - > . »,,4. JlrJH- 5 i;u"'., . , ,

¦^i'ili

il^s:

I'm ,

.s,„

\L*ir. .
1 r l)... i;Vf
it
v'\f .'' 4';^fol
^''"', *>;j:4r *
Itlif
p
l'i#'l
i