OF EDWARDS’ IDEA OF LIBERTY.
It was not the design of Edwards, as it is well known, to interfere with the moral agency of man. He honestly believed that the scheme of necessity, as held by himself, was perfectly consistent with the doctrine of liberty; and he retorted upon his adversaries that it was their system, and not his, which struck at the foundation of moral agency and accountability. But however upright may have been his intentions, he has merely left us the name of liberty, while he has in reality denied to us its nature and its essence.
According to his view of the subject, “The plain and obvious meaning of the words freedom and liberty, in common speech, is the power, opportunity, or advantage that any one has to do as he pleases. Or, in other words, his being free from hindrance or impediment in the way of doing, or conducting in any respect as he wills. And the contrary to liberty, whatever name we call that by, is a person’s being hindered, or unable to conduct as he will, or being necessitated to do otherwise.”
This is the kind of liberty for which he contends. And he says, “There are two things contrary to what is called liberty in common speech. One is constraint, otherwise called force, compulsion, and co-action, which is a person’s being necessitated to do a thing contrary to his will. The other is restraint; which is his being hindered, and not having power to do according to his will. But that which has no will cannot be the subject of these things.”
This notion of liberty, as Edwards says, presupposes the existence of a will. In fact, it presupposes more than this; it presupposes the existence of a determination of the will. For, unless one is determined not to do a thing, he cannot be constrained to do it, contrary to his will; and, unless he is determined to do a thing, he cannot be restrained from doing it according to his will. This kind of liberty, then, as it presupposes the existence of a determination of the will, has nothing to do with the manner in which that determination is brought to pass. If the determination of the mind or will were brought to pass, so to speak, by an absolutely irresistible force; just as any other effect is brought to pass by its efficient cause; yet this kind of liberty might exist in its utmost perfection. For it only requires that after the will is determined in this manner, or in any other, that it should be left free from constraint or restraint, to flow on just as it has been determined to do. It is no other liberty than that which is possessed by a current of water, when it is said to flow freely, because it is not opposed in its course by any material obstruction.
That the liberty for which Edwards contends, has nothing to do with the manner in which our actions or volitions come to pass; or, more properly speaking, with the kind of relation between motives and actions, we have his own express acknowledgment. “What is vulgarly called liberty,” says he, “namely, that power and opportunity for one to do and conduct as he will, or according to his choice, is all that is meant by it; without taking into the meaning of the word any thing of the cause of that choice; or at all considering how the person came to have such a volition; whether it was caused by some external motive, or internal habitual bias; whether it was determined by some internal antecedent volition, or whether it happened without a cause; whether it was necessarily connected with something foregoing, or not connected. Let the person come by his choice any how, yet if he is able, and there is nothing in the way to hinder his pursuing and executing his will, the man is perfectly free, according to the primary and common notion of freedom.”
This notion of liberty, it is easy to see, is consistent with the most absolute scheme of fatality of which it is possible to conceive. For, according to this idea of it, if we should come by our choice “any how,” even by the most irresistible influence of external circumstances, yet we might be “perfectly free.” Hence it is no wonder that we find the same definition of liberty in the writings of the most absolute fatalists.
It is remarkable that Edwards has taken great pains to define his idea of philosophical necessity, and to distinguish it from the common sense of the word; and yet he supposes that the notion of liberty, about which the same dispute is conversant, is that which is referred to “in common speech,” or that “which is vulgarly called liberty.” He contends for a philosophical necessity, and especially for a necessary connexion between the influence of motives and volitions; but the philosophical liberty which stands opposed to his scheme, which denies any such necessary connexion, he has not deemed it worth his while to notice!
Liberty, according to Edwards’ sense of the term, has nothing to do with the controversy respecting free-agency and necessity. It is as consistent with fatalism as could be desired by the most extravagant supporters of that odious system. Hence, when the doctrine of necessity is denied, and that of liberty or moral agency is asserted, something more than this is intended. The idea of liberty, as it stands connected with the controversy in question, has reference to the manner in which our volitions come to pass, to the relation which subsists between motives and their corresponding actions. When we say that the will is free, we mean “that it is not necessarily determined by the influence of motives;” we mean to deny the doctrine of moral necessity, or that the relation which subsists between a motive and its corresponding act, is not that which subsists between an efficient cause and its effect. We mean to contend for a philosophical liberty, as President Edwards contends for a philosophical necessity, and not for that “which is vulgarly called liberty.”
There is an inconsistency, I am aware, in supposing a choice to be induced by the force of external circumstances, or by the force of motives, whether external or internal; but this inconsistency belongs to the scheme of necessity; and if I have indulged in the supposition for a moment, it was only to meet the necessitarian, and argue with him on his own ground. As I have already said, a will that is determined, instead of determining, is no will at all. And the liberty of the will for which we contend, is implied by the power of the mind to act. It does not depend upon the presence or the absence of any external obstruction. It is no such occasional, or accidental thing; it is an inherent and essential attribute and power of the mind. No power in the universe, but that of creation, can produce it, and no chains on earth can bind it.
The idea of liberty, as contended for by President Edwards, is no other than that entertained by Mr. Locke. Thus, says the latter, “there may be thought, there may be will, there may be volition, where there is no liberty.” In illustration of this position he says, “A man falling into water, (a bridge breaking under him,) has not herein liberty, is not a free-agent. For though he has volition, though he prefers his not falling to falling, yet the forbearance of that motion not being in his power, the stop or cessation of that motion follows not upon his volition; and therefore therein he is not free.”
It is true, he is not therein free, in one of the most common senses of the term; but it is wrong to conclude from hence, that there is in such a case, “no liberty.” For if the volition, of which he is said to be possessed, did not result from the action of any thing, if it was simply an act of the mind, which was not necessarily produced by another act, then he possessed freedom in the philosophical sense of the term. He was free in the act of willing, in the possession of his volition, although the consequence of that volition was cut off and prevented by an over-ruling necessity, which had no conceivable relation to the manner in which he came by his volition. Wherever there is a volition, there is this kind of liberty; for a volition is not, and cannot be, produced by any coercive force.
The foregoing illustration might have been very consistently offered by President Edwards, who considered a volition and a preference of the mind as identically the same; but it comes not with so good a grace from Mr. Locke. He considered an act of the will as different from a preference. According to his doctrine, a man might prefer not to fall, in such a case as that put by himself, and yet not will not to fall. And he illustrates the difference by saying, “a man would prefer flying to walking, yet who can say he ever wills it?” Now, if a man cannot will to fly, it is very difficult to see how he can will not to fall, in case he were dropped from the air.
The illustration of Mr. Locke is fallacious. It does not show, and I humbly conceive it cannot be shown, that there can be a volition anywhere in the universe where there is not freedom. The very idea of a volition, or an act of the mind, necessarily implies that kind of philosophical liberty for which we contend.
The above notion of liberty, which Mr. Locke borrowed from Hobbes, and Edwards from Locke, evidently confounds the motion of the body, (which they frequently call action,) with volition or action of the mind. Thus, no matter how a volition comes to pass, or is caused to exist, if there is nothing to prevent the motion of the body from following its influence, we are said to be perfectly free. This kind of liberty, therefore, refers to the motion of the body, and not to the action of the mind. It has no reference whatever to the question, Is the mind free in the act of willing? This is the question in dispute; and hence, if the necessitarian would say any thing to the purpose, he must show that his scheme is reconcilable with the freedom of the mind in willing. This Edwards has not attempted to do. He has, in fact, as we have seen, only given us the name, while he has taken from us the substance of liberty.
The idea of liberty, for which Edwards contends, may be illustrated by an unobstructed fall of water. Indeed, this is the very thing by which Mr. Hobbes has chosen to illustrate and explain it. “I conceive liberty to be rightly defined in this manner,” says he; “liberty is the absence of all the impediments to action, (motion?) that are not contained in the nature and intrinsical quality of the agent, as for example, the water is said to descend freely, or to have liberty to descend by the channel of the river, because there is no impediment that way, but not across, because the banks are impediments, and though the water cannot ascend, yet men never say it wants the liberty to ascend, but the faculty or power, because the impediment is in the nature of the water, and intrinsical.” Mr. Hobbes encountered no more difficulty in reconciling this notion of liberty with the scheme of fatality for which he contended, than President Edwards found in reconciling it with the same scheme in disguise.
According to the Inquiry, then, we have no other liberty than that which may be ascribed to the winds and the waves of the sea, as they are carried onward in their courses by the power of the Almighty. Edwards looks for liberty, and he finds it, not in the will, but in the motions of the body, which is universally admitted to be passive to the action of the will. He looks for liberty, and he finds it, where, by universal consent, an absolute necessity reigns; thus seeking and finding the living among the dead. It is no wonder, that he could reconcile such a liberty with the scheme of necessity.
Even President Day is not satisfied with this account of liberty. “On the subject of liberty or freedom,” says he, “which occupies a portion of the fifth section of Edwards’ first book, he has been less particular than was to be expected, considering that this is the great object of inquiry in his work.” How could Edwards have been more particular? He has repeatedly and most explicitly informed us, that liberty consists in a power, or opportunity, to do as we choose; without considering how we come by our choice. If we can only do as we choose, though our choice should be produced by the most absolute and irresistible power in the universe, yet are we perfectly free in the highest conceivable sense of the word. “If any imagine they desire, and that they conceive of a higher liberty than this,” says he, “they are deceived, and delude themselves with confused ambiguous words instead of ideas.” President Day complains that all this is not sufficiently particular; but although he may not have been aware of it, I apprehend that he has been dissatisfied with the dreadful particularity and precision with which the doctrine of the Inquiry has been exhibited. It is precisely the doctrine of liberty which has been held by the most absolute and unqualified fatalists the world has ever seen; and it is set forth, too, with a bold precision and clearness, which would have done honour to the stern consistency of Hobbes himself. It is no wonder, that President Day should have felt a desire to see such a doctrine softened down by the author of the Inquiry.
“The professed object of his book,” says President Day, “according to the title-page, is an inquiry concerning the freedom of the will;—not the freedom of external conduct. We naturally look for his meaning of this internal liberty. What he has said, in this section, respecting freedom of the will, has rather the appearance of evading such a definition of it as might be considered his own.” Yes, it is in this section that we naturally look for his idea of the liberty of the will; but we do not find it. We must turn to the title-page, if we wish to see any thing about the liberty of the will. “What he has said, in this section, respecting freedom of the will,” does not, (President Day himself being judge,) relate to the freedom of the will at all; it only relates to the freedom of the body, which has no freedom at all; but which is wholly passive to the action of the will. President Day is not satisfied with all this; and hence, he proceeds to tell us, what Edwards would have said in this section, if he had not thus evaded his own definition of internal liberty. Let us see, then, what he would have said.
From a letter to a minister of the Church of Scotland, President Day finds that in the phrase conducting as a man pleases, the author of the Inquiry means to include the idea of choosing as he pleases. Now, this is all true; and this is the internal liberty, which President Day has extracted from the aforesaid letter. Then, according to Edwards, we have two kinds of liberty: the one is a liberty to move the body as we please, or as we choose; and the other is, to choose as we please, or as we choose. In the vocabulary, and according to the psychology of President Edwards, as we have frequently seen, and as we here see, our pleasing and our choosing are one and the same thing. Hence, to move our bodies according to our pleasure, is to move it according to our choice; and to choose as we please, is to choose as we choose. President Day need not have gone to the letter in question, in order to find this doctrine; for it is repeatedly set forth in the inquiry. President Edwards, as we have seen, frequently contends in the Inquiry, that we always choose as we choose; and as frequently makes his adversaries assert, that we can “choose without choosing;” which is just as absurd, he truly declares, as to say that a body can move while it is in a state of rest.
Now, to place liberty in this “choosing as we choose,” without regard to the cause or origin of our choice, is just about as rational as it would be to place it in the axioms of geometry. Suppose a man is made to choose, by an absolute and uncontrollable power; it is nevertheless true, that he chooses as he does choose. This cannot be otherwise than true; it is a self-evident and necessary truth; for nothing can be different from itself, can be what it is, and yet not what it is, at one and the same time. To speak of a power of choosing as we choose, as Edwards and Day both do, is just about as reasonable as it were to speak of a power to make two and two equal to four. Supposing the Almighty should cause us to choose, it is not in his power to prevent us from choosing as we do choose; for he cannot work contradictions.
Whether President Edwards speaks of our moving as we please, or of our choosing as we please; whether he speaks of an external liberty, or of this internal liberty; he is always careful to remind us, that it has no reference to the question, how we come by our pleasure or choice. In the letter referred to, wherein he admits that a man’s liberty of conducting as he pleases or chooses, includes “a liberty of choosing as he pleases,” he instantly adds, but “without determining how he came by that pleasure.” Yes, no matter how we come by our choice, though it be wrought into us by the most uncontrollable power in the universe, yet are we free in the highest conceivable sense of the word, if we can only “conduct according to our choice.” This, instead of being the greatest liberty, is indeed the greatest mockery, of which it is possible for the imagination of man to conceive. The liberty of fate itself, is, in all respects, to the full as desirable as such a liberty as this. Is it not wonderful, to behold the great and good author of the Inquiry, thus planting himself upon the very ground of atheistical fatalism; and from thence, in sober, serious earnestness, holding out to us, as a great and glorious reality, the mere name and shadow and fiction of liberty? the very phantom which atheists, in mockery and derision, have been pleased to confer upon mankind, as upon poor blind fools, who merely dream of liberty, and fondly dote upon the empty name thereof, whilst they are ignorant of the chains which bind them fast in fate.