5 Oct.1703 - 22 March 1758
Freedom of the Will
by
Jonathan Edwards
© Copyright: Public Domain
Author(s): Edwards, Jonathan (1703-1758)
Publisher: Grand Rapids, MI: Christian Classics Ethereal Library
Description: Having graduated from Yale at the mere age of seventeen,
Jonathan Edwards is ranked among America's most preeminent
philosopher-theologians. Edwards wrote Freedom
of the Will in 1754 while serving in Massachusetts as a missionary
to a native tribe of Housatonic Indians. In this text,
Edwards investigates the contrasting Calvinist and Arminian
views about free will, God's foreknowledge, determinism,
and moral agency.
Contents
Part I. Wherein Are Explained and Stated Various Terms and Things Belonging to
the Subject of the Ensuing Discourse
Section I. Concerning the Nature of the Will
Section II. Concerning the Determination of the Will
Section III. Concerning the Meaning of the Terms, Necessity, Impossibility,
Inability, &c and of Contingence.
Section IV. Of the Distinction of Natural and Moral Necessity, and Inability
Section V. Concerning the Notion of Liberty, and of Moral Agency
Part II. Wherein It Is Considered Whether There Is or Can Be Any Sort of Freedom
of Will, as That Wherein Arminians Place the Essence of the Liberty of All Moral
Agents; and Whether Any Such Thing Ever Was or Can Be Conceived of
Section I. Showing the Manifest Inconsistence of the Arminian Notion of Liberty
of Will, Consisting in the Will's Self-Determing Power
Section II. Several Supposed Ways of Evading the Foregoing Reasoning Considered
Section III. Whether Any Event Whatsoever, and Volition in Particular, Can
Come to Pass Without a Cause of Its Existence.
Section IV. Whether Volition Can Arise Without a Cause, Through the Activity
of the Nature of the Soul.
Section V. Showing, That If the Things Asserted in These Evasions Should Be
Supposed to Be True, They Are Altogether Impertinent, and Cannot Help the
Cause of Arminian Liberty; and How, This Being the State of the Case, Arminian
Writers Are Obliged to Talk Inconsistently.
Section VI. Concerning the Will Determining in Things Which Are Perfectly
Indifferent in the View of the Mind.
Section VII. Concerning the Notion of Liberty of Will, Consisting in Indifference.
Section VIII. Concerning the Supposed Liberty of the Will, as Opposite to All
Necessity.
Section IX. Of the Connexion of the Acts of the Will with the Dictates of the
Understanding.
Section X. Volition Necessarily Connected with the Influence of Motives: with
Particular Observations on the Great Inconsistence of Mr. Chubb's Assertions
and Reasonings about the Freedom of the Will.
Section XI. The Evidence of Gods Certain Foreknowledge of the Volitions of
Moral Agents.
Section XII. God's Certain Foreknowledge of the Future Volitions of Moral Agents,
Inconsistent with Such a Contingence of Those Volitions as Is without All
Necessity.
Section XIII. Whether We Suppose the Volitions of Moral Agents to Be Connected
with Any Thing Antecedent, or Not, Yet They Must Be Necessary in Such a Sense
as to Overthrow Arminian Liberty.
Part III. Wherein is Inquired Whether Any Such Liberty of Will as Arminians Hold,
Be Necessary to Moral Agency, Virtue, Praise, and Dispraise, &c.
Section I. God's Moral Excellency Necessary, Yet Virtuous and Praiseworthy
Section II. The Acts of the Will of the Human Soul of Jesus Christ, Necessarily
Holy, Yet Truly Virtuous, Praise-worthy, Rewardable, &c.
Section III. The Case of Such as Are Given up to God to Sin, and of Fallen Man
in General, Proves Moral Necessity and Inability to Be Consistent with
Blameworthiness.
Section IV. Command and Obligation to Obedience, Consistent with Moral
Inability to Obey.
Section V. That Sincerity of Desires and Endeavours, Which, Is Supposed to
Excuse in the Non-performance of Things in Themselves Good, Particularly
Considered.
Section VI. Liberty of Indifference, Not Only Not Necessary to Virtue, But Utterly
Inconsistent with It; and All, Either Virtuous or Vicious Habits or Inclinations,
Inconsistent with Arminian Notions of Liberty and Moral Agency.
Section VII. Arminian Notions of Moral Agency Inconsistent with All Influence
of Motive and Inducement, in Either Virtuous or Vicious Actions.
Part IV. Wherein the Chief Grounds of the Reasonings of Arminians, in Support
and Defense of the Aforementioned Notions of Liberty, Moral Agency, &c. and
Against the Opposite Doctrine, Are Considered./p>
Section I. The Essence of the Virtue and Vice of Dispositions of the Heart and
Acts of the Will, Lies Not in Their Cause, But Their Nature.
Section II. The Falseness and Inconsistence of That Metaphysical Notion of Action
and Agency Which Seems to Be Generally Entertained by the Defenders of the
Arminian Doctrine Concerning Liberty, Moral Agency, &c.
Section III. The Reasons Why Some Think It Contrary to Common Sense, to
Suppose Those Things Which Are Necessary, to Be Worthy of Either Praise or
Blame.
Section IV. It is Agreeable to Common Sense, and the Natural Notions of Mankind,
to Suppose Moral Necessity to Be Consistent with Praise and Blame, Reward and
Punishment.
Section V. Concerning Those Objections, That This Scheme of Necessity Renders
All Means and Endeavours for the Avoiding of Sin, or the Obtaining Virtue and
Holiness, Vain and to No Purpose; and That It Makes Men No More Than Mere
Machines in Affairs of Morality and Religion.
Section VI. Concerning That Objection Against the Doctrine Which Has Been
Maintained, That It Agrees with the Stoical Doctrine of Faith, and the Opinions
of Mr. Hobbes.
Section VII. Concerning the Necessity of the Divine Will
Indexes
Index of Scripture References
Latin Words and Phrases
PART I.
WHEREIN ARE EXPLAINED AND STATED VARIOUS TERMS AND THINGS
BELONGING TO THE SUBJECT OF THE ENSUING DISCOURSE
Part I.
Wherein Are Explained and Stated Various Terms and Things Belonging...
Section I.
Concerning the Nature of the Will.
IT may possibly be thought, that there is no great need of going about to define or describe
the Will; this word being generally as well understood as any other words we can use to explain
it: and so perhaps it would be, had not philosophers, metaphysicians, and polemic
divines, brought the matter into obscurity by the things they have said of it. But since it is
so, I think it may be of some use, and will tend to greater clearness in The following discourse,
to say a few things concerning it.
And therefore I observe, that the Will (without any metaphysical refining) is, That by which
the mind chooses any thing. The faculty of the will, is that power, or principle of mind, by
which it is capable of choosing: an act of the will is the same as an act of choosing or choice.
If any think it is a more perfect definition of the will, to say, that it is that by which the soul
either chooses or refuses, I am content with it; though I think it enough to say, it is that by
which the soul chooses: for in every act of will whatsoever, the mind chooses one thing
rather than another; it chooses something rather than the contrary or rather than the want
or non-existence of that thing. So in every act of refusal, the mind chooses the absence of
the thing refused; the positive and the negative are set before the mind for its choice, and it
chooses the negative; and the mind's making its choice in that case is properly the act of the
Will: the Will's determining between the two, is a voluntary determination; but that is the
same thing as making a choice. So that by whatever names we call the act of the Will,
choosing, refusing, approving, disapproving, liking, disliking, embracing, rejecting, determining,
directing, commanding, forbidding, inclining, or being averse, being pleased or displeased
with; all may be reduced to this of choosing. For the soul to act voluntarily, is evermore
to act electively. Mr. Locke (1) says, "The Will signifies nothing but a power or ability
to prefer or choose." And, in the foregoing page, he says, "The word preferring seems best
to express the act of volition;" but adds, that "it does it not precisely; for, though a man
would prefer flying to walking, yet who can say he ever wills it?" But the instance he mentions,
does not prove that there is any thing else in willing, but merely preferring: for it should be
considered what is the immediate object of the will, with respect to a man's walking, or any
other external action; which is not being removed from one place to another; on the earth
or through the air; these are remoter objects of preference; but such or such an immediate
exertion of himself. The thing next chosen, or preferred, when a man wills to walk is not
his being removed to such a place where he would be, but such an exertion and motion of
his legs and feet &c, in order to it. And his willing such an alteration in his body in the
present moment, is nothing else but his choosing or preferring such an alteration in his
body at such a moment, or his liking it better than the forbearance of it. And God has so
made and established the human nature, the soul being united to a body in proper state that
the soul preferring or choosing such an immediate exertion or alteration of the body, such
an alteration instantaneously follows. There is nothing else in the actions of my mind, that
I am conscious of while I walk, but only my preferring or choosing, through successive
moments that there should be such alterations of my external sensations and motions; together
with a concurring habitual expectation that it will be so; having ever found by experience,
that on such an immediate preference, such sensations and motions do actually, instantaneously,
and constantly arise. But it is not so in the case of flying; though a man may
be said remotely to choose or prefer flying; yet he does not prefer, or desire, under circumstances
in view, any immediate exertion of the members of his body in order to it; because
he has no expectation that he should obtain the desired end by any such exertion and he
does not prefer, or incline to, any bodily exertion under this apprehended circumstance, of
its being wholly in vain. So that if we carefully distinguish the proper objects of the several
acts of the will, it will not appear by this, and such like instances, that there is any difference
between volition and preference; or that a man's choosing liking best, or being pleased with
a thing, are not the same with his willing that thing. Thus an act of the will is commonly
expressed by its pleasing a man to do thus or thus; and a man doing as he wills, and doing
as he pleases are in common speech the same thing.
Mr. Locke (2) says, "The Will is perfectly distinguished from desire; which in the very same
action may have quite contrary tendency from that which our wills sets us upon. A man,
says he, whom I cannot deny, may oblige me to use persuasions to another, which, at the
same time I am speaking, I may wish not prevail on him. In this case, it is plain the Will and
Desire run counter." I do not suppose, that Will and Desire are words of precisely the same
signification: Will seems to be a word of more general signification, extending to things
present and absent. Desire respects something absent. I may prefer my present situation
and posture, suppose sitting still, or having my eyes open, and so may will it. But yet I cannot
think they are so entirely distinct, that they can ever be properly said to run counter. A man
never, in any instance, wills any thing contrary to his desires, or desires any thing contrary
to his will. The forementioned instance, which Mr. Locke produces, is no proof that he ever
does. He may, on some consideration or other will to utter speeches which have a tendency
to persuade another and still may desire that they may not persuade him; but yet his Will
and Desire do not run counter all: the thing which he wills, the very same he desires; and
he does not will a thing, and desire the contrary, in any particular. In this instance, it is not
carefully observed, what is the thing willed, and what is the thing desired: if it were, it would
be found, that Will and Desire do not clash in the least. The thing willed on some consideration,
is to utter such words; and certainly, the same consideration so influences him, that
he does not desire the contrary; all things considered, he chooses to utter such words, and
does not desire not to utter them. And so as to the thing which Mr. Locke speaks of as desired,
viz. That the words, though they tend to persuade, should not be effectual to that end, his
Will is not contrary to this; he does not will that they should be effectual, but rather wills
that they should not, as he desires. In order to prove that the Will and Desire may run
counter, it should be shown that they may be contrary one to the other in the same thing,
or with respect to the very same object of Will or Desire: but here the objects are two; and
in each, taken by themselves, the Will and Desire agree. And it is no wonder that they should
not agree in different things, though but little distinguished in their nature. The Will may
not agree with the Will, nor Desire agree with Desire, in different things. As in this very
instance which Mr. Locke mentions, a person may, on some consideration, desire to use
persuasions, and at the same time may desire they may not prevail; but yet nobody will say,
that Desire runs counter to Desire; or that this proves that Desire is perfectly a distinct thing
from Desire.- The like might be observed of the other instance Mr. Locke produces, of a
man's desiring to be eased of pain, &c
But, not to dwell any longer on this, whether Desire and Will, and whether Preference and
Volition be precisely the same things, I trust It will be allowed by all, that in every act of
Will there is an act of choice; that in every volition there is a preference, or a prevailing inclination
of the soul, whereby at that instant, it is out of a state of perfect indifference, with
respect to the direct object of the volition. So that in every act, or going forth of the Will;
there is some preponderation of the mind, one way rather than another; and the soul had
rather have or do one thing, than another, or than not to have or do that thing; and that
where there is absolutely no preferring or choosing, but a perfect, continuing equilibrium,
there is no volition.
Section II.
Concerning the Determination of the Will.
BY determining the Will, if the phrase be used with any meaning, must be intended, causing
that the act of the Will or choice should be thus, and not otherwise: and the Will is said to
be determined, when, in consequence of some action, or influence, its choice is directed to,
and fixed upon a particular object. As when we speak of the determination of motion, we
mean causing the motion of the body to be in such a direction, rather than another.
The Determination of the Will, supposes an effect, which must have a cause. If the Will be
determined, there is a Determiner. This must be supposed to be intended even by them that
say, The Will determines itself. If it be so, the Will is both Determiner and determined; it
is a cause that acts and produces effects upon itself, and is the object of its own influence
and action.
With respect to that grand inquiry, "What determines the Will?" it would be very tedious
and unnecessary, at present, to examine all the various opinions, which have been advanced
concerning this matter; nor is it needful that I should enter into a particular discussion of
all points debated in disputes on that other question, "Whether the Will always follows the
last dictate of the understanding?" It is sufficient to my present purpose to say, It is that
motive, which, as it stands in view of the mind, is the strongest, that determines the will.
But may be necessary that I should a little explain my meaning.
By motive I mean the whole of that which moves, excites, or invites the mind to volition,
whether that be one thing singly, or many things conjunctly. Many particular things may
concur, and unite their strength, to induce the mind; and when it is so, all together are as
one complex motive. And when I speak of the strongest motive, I have respect to the strength
of the whole that operates to induce a particular act of volition, whether that be the strength
of one thing alone, or of many together.
Whatever is objectively a motive, in this sense, must, be something that is extant in the view
or apprehension of the understanding, or perceiving faculty. Nothing can induce or invite
the mind to will or act any thing, any further than it is perceived, or is some way or other
in the mind's view; for what is wholly unperceived and perfectly out of the mind's view,
cannot affect the mind at all. It is most evident, that nothing is in the mind, or reaches it,
or takes any hold of it, any otherwise than as it is perceived or thought of.
And I think it must also be allowed by all, that every thing that is properly called a motive,
excitement, or inducement to a perceiving, willing agent, has some sort and degree of
tendency, or advantage to move or excite the Will, previous to the effect, or to the act of the
will excited. This previous tendency of the motive is what I call the strength of the motive.
That motive which has a less degree of previous advantage, or tendency to move the Will,
or which appears less inviting, as it stands in the view of the mind, is What I call a weaker
motive. On the contrary, that which appears most inviting, and has, by what appears concerning
it to the understanding or apprehension, the greatest degree of previous tendency
to excite and induce the choice, is what I call the strongest motive. And in this sense, I suppose
the will is always determined by the strongest motive.
Things that exist in the view of the mind have their strength, tendency, or advantage to
move, or excite its Will, from many things appertaining to the nature and circumstances of
the thing viewed, the nature and circumstances of the mind that views, and the degree and
manner of its view; of which it would perhaps be hard to make a perfect enumeration. But
so much I think may be determined in general, without room for controversy, that whatever
is perceived or apprehended by an intelligent and voluntary agent, which has the nature
and influence of a motive to volition or choice, is considered or viewed as good; nor has it
any tendency to engage the election of the soul in any further degree than it appears such.
For to say otherwise, would be to say, that things that appear, have a tendency, by the appearance
they make, to engage the mind to elect them, some other way than by their appearing
eligible to it; which is absurd. And therefore it must be true, in some sense, that the will
always is, as the greatest apparent good is. But only, for the right understanding of this, two
things must be well and distinctly observed.
1. It must be observed in what sense I use the term "good;" namely, as of the same import
with "agreeable." To appear good to the mind, as I use the phrase, is the same as to appear
agreeable, or seem pleasing to the mind. Certainly, nothing appears inviting and eligible to
the mind, or tending to engage its inclination and choice, considered as evil or disagreeable;
nor indeed, as indifferent, and neither agreeable nor disagreeable. But if it tends to draw
the inclination, and move the Will, it must be under the notion of that which suits the mind.
And therefore that must have the greatest tendency to attract and engage it, which as it
stands in the mind's view, suits it best, and pleases it most; and in that sense, is the greatest
apparent good: to say otherwise, is little, if any thing, short of a direct and plain contradiction.
The word "good," in this sense, includes in its signification, the removal or avoiding of evil,
or of that which is disagreeable and uneasy. It is agreeable and pleasing, to avoid what is
disagreeable and displeasing, and to have uneasiness removed. So that here is included what
Mr. Locke supposes determines the will. For when he speaks of "uneasiness," as determining
the will, he must be understood as supposing that the end or aim which governs in the volition
or act of preference, is the avoiding or the removal of that uneasiness; and that is the
same thing as choosing and seeking what is more easy and agreeable.
2.When I say, that the will is as the greatest apparent good, or, (as I have explained it,) that
volition has always for its object the thing which appears most agreeable; it must be carefully
observed, to avoid confusion and needless objection, that I speak of the direct and immediate
object of the act of volition; and not some object to which the act of will has only an indirect
and remote respect. Many acts of volition have some remote relation to an object, that is
different from the thing most immediately willed and chosen. Thus, when a drunkard has
his liquor before him, and he has to choose whether to drink it, or no; the immediate objects,
about which his present volition is conversant, and between which his choice now decides,
are his own nets, in drinking the liquor, or letting it alone; and this will certainly be done
according to what, in the present view of his mind, taken in the whole of it, is most agreeable
to him. If he chooses to drink it, and not to let it alone, then this action, as it stands in the
view of his mind, with all that belongs to its appearance there, is more agreeable and pleasing
than letting it alone.
But the objects to which this act of volition may relate more remotely, and between which
his choice may determine more indirectly, are the present pleasure the man expects by
drinking, and the future misery which he judges will be the consequence of it: he may judge
that this future misery, when it comes, will be more disagreeable and unpleasant, than refraining
from drinking now would be. But these two things are not the proper objects that
the act of volition spoken of is next conversant about. For the act of Will spoken of, is concerning
present drinking, or forbearing to drink. If he wills to drink, then drinking is the
proper object of the act of his Will; and drinking, on some account or other, now appears
most agreeable to him, and suits him best. If he chooses to refrain, then refraining is immediate
object of his Will, and is most pleasing to him. If in the choice he makes in the case,
he prefers a present pleasure to a future advantage, which he judges will be greater when it
comes; then a lesser present pleasure appears more agreeable to him than a greater advantage
at a distance. If on the contrary a future advantage is preferred, then that appears most
agreeable, and suits him best. And so still, the present volition is, as the greatest apparent
good at present is.
I have rather chosen to express myself thus, "that the Will always is as the greatest apparent
good," or "as what appears most agreeable," than to say "that the will is determined by the
greatest apparent good," or "by what seems most agreeable;" because an appearing most
agreeable to the mind, and the mind's preferring, seem scarcely distinct. If strict propriety
of speech be insisted on, it may more properly be said, that the voluntary action, which is
the immediate consequence of the mind's choice, is determined by that which appears most
agreeable, than the choice itself; but that volition itself is always determined by that in or
about the mind's view of the object, which causes it to appear most agreeable. I say, "in or
about the mind's view of' the object;" because what has influence to render an object in view
agreeable, is not only what appears in the object viewed, but also the manner of the view
and the state and circumstances of the mind that views. Particularly to enumerate all things
pertaining to the mind's view of the objects of volition, which have influence in their appearing
agreeable to the mind, would be a matter of no small difficulty, and might require a
treatise by itself, and is not necessary to my present purpose. I shall therefore only mention
some things in general.
I. One thing that makes an object proposed to choice agreeable, is the apparent nature and
circumstances of the object. And there are various things of this sort, that have influence in
rendering the object more or less agreeable; as, 1. That which appears in the object, rendering
it beautiful and pleasant, or deformed and irksome to the mind; viewing it as it is in itself.
2. The apparent degree of pleasure or trouble attending the object, or the consequence of
it. Such concomitants and consequences being viewed as circumstances of the object, are
to be considered as belonging to it; and as it were parts of it, as it stands in the mind's view
a proposed object of choice.
3. The apparent state of the pleasure or trouble that appears, with respect to distance of time;
being either nearer or farther off. It is a thing in itself agreeable to the mind, to have pleasure
speedily; and disagreeable, to have it delayed: so that if there be two equal degrees of pleasure
set in the mind's view, and all other things are equal, but one is beheld as near, and the
other afar off; the nearer will appear most agreeable, and so will be chosen. Because, though
the agreeableness of the objects be exactly equal, as viewed in themselves, yet not as viewed
in their circumstances; one of them having the additional agreeableness of the circumstance
of nearness.
II. Another thing that contributes to the agreeableness of an object of choice, as it stands in
the mind's view, is the manner of view. If the object be something which appears connected
with future pleasure, not only will the degree of apparent pleasure have influence, but also
the manner of the view, especially in two respects.
1. With respect to the degree of assent, with which the mind judges the pleasure to be future. Because it is more agreeable to have a certain happiness, than an uncertain one; and a
pleasure viewed as more probable, all other things being equal, is more agreeable to the
mind, than that which is viewed as less probable.
2. With respect to the degree of the idea or apprehension of the future pleasure. With regard
to things which are the subject of our thoughts, either past, present, or future, we have much
more of an idea or apprehension of some things than others; that is, our idea is much more
clear, lively, and strong. Thus the ideas we have of sensible things by immediate sensation,
are usually much more lively than those we have by mere imagination, or by contemplation
of them when absent. My idea of the sun when I look upon it is more vivid, than when I
only think of it. Our idea of the sweet relish of a delicious fruit is usually stronger when we
taste it, than when we only imagine it. And sometimes, the idea we have of things by contemplation,
are much stronger and clearer, than at other times. Thus, a man at one time has
a much stronger idea of the pleasure which is to be enjoyed in eating some sort of food that
he loves, than at another. Now the strength of the idea or the sense that men have of future
good or evil, is one thing that has great influence on their minds to excite volition. When
two kinds of future pleasure are presented for choice, though both are supposed exactly
equal by the judgment, and both equally certain, yet of one the mind has a far more lively
sense, than of the other; this last has the greatest advantage by far to affect and attract the
mind, and move the will. It is now more agreeable to the mind, to take the pleasure of which
it has a strong and lively sense, than that of which it has only a faint idea. The view of the
former is attended with the strongest appetite, and the greatest uneasiness attends the want
of it; and it is agreeable to the mind to have uneasiness removed, and its appetite gratified.
And if several future enjoyments are presented together, as competitors for the choice of
the mind, some of them judged to be greater, and others less; the mind also having a more
lively idea of the good of some, and of others a less; and some are viewed as of greater certainty
or probability than others; and those enjoyments that appear most agreeable in one
of these respects, appear least so in others: in this case, all other things being equal, the
agreeableness of a proposed object of choice will be in a degree some way compounded of
the degree of good supposed by the judgment, the degree of apparent probability or certainty
of that good, and the degree of the liveliness of the idea the mind has of that good; because
all together concur to constitute the degree in which the object appears at present agreeable;
and accordingly will volition be determined.
I might further observe, that the state of the mind which views a proposed object of choice,
is another thing that contributes to the agreeableness or disagreeableness of that object; the
particular temper which the mind has by nature, or that has been introduced and established
by education, example, custom, or some other means; or the frame or state that the mind
is in on a particular occasion. That object which appears agreeable to one, does not so to
another. And the same object does not always appear alike agreeable to the same person, at
different times. It is most agreeable to some men, to follow their reason; and to others, to
follow their appetites: to some men, it is more agreeable to deny a vicious inclination, than
to gratify it; others it suits best to gratify the vilest appetites. It is more disagreeable to some
men than others, to counteract a former resolution. In these respects, and many others
which might be mentioned, different things will be most agreeable to different persons; and
not only so, but to the same persons at different times.
But possibly it is needless to mention the "state of the mind," as a ground of the agreeableness
of objects distinct from the other two mentioned before; viz. The apparent nature and circumstances
of the objects viewed, and the manner of the view. Perhaps, if we strictly consider
the matter, the different temper and state of the mind makes no alteration as to the agreeableness
of objects, any other way, than as it makes the objects themselves appear differently
beautiful or deformed, having apparent pleasure or pain attending them; and, as it occasions
the manner of the view to be different, causes the idea of beauty or deformity, pleasure or
uneasiness, to be more or less lively. However, I think so much is certain, that volition, in
no one instance that can be mentioned, is otherwise than the greatest apparent good is, in
the manner which has been explained. The choice of the mind never departs from that
which, at the time, and with respect to the direct and immediate objects of decision, appears
most agreeable and pleasing, all things considered. If the immediate objects of the will are
a man's own actions, then those actions which appear most agreeable to him he wills. If it
be now most agreeable to him, all things considered, to walk, then he now wills to walk. If
it be now, upon the whole of what at present appears to him, most agreeable to speak, then
he chooses to speak; if it suits him best to keep silence, then he chooses to keep silence.
There is scarcely a plainer and more universal dictate of the sense and experience of mankind,
than that, when men act voluntarily, and do what they please, then they do what suits them
best, or what is most agreeable to them. To say, that they do what pleases them, but yet not
what is agreeable to them, is the same thing as to say, they do what they please, but do not
act their pleasure; and that is to say, that they do what they please and yet do not what they
please.
It appears from these things, that in some sense, the will always follows the last dictate of
the understanding. But then the understanding must be taken in a large sense, as including
the whole faculty of perception or apprehension, and not merely what is called reason or
judgment. If by the dictate of the understanding is meant what reason declares to be best,
or most for the person's happiness, taking in the whole of its duration, it is not true, that
the Will always follows the last dictate of the understanding. Such a dictate of reason is quite
a different matter from things appearing now most agreeable, all things being put together
which pertain to the mind's present perceptions in any respect: although that dictate of
reason, when it takes place, has concern in the compound influence which moves Will; and
should be considered in estimating the degree of that appearance of good which the Will
always follows; either as having its influence added to other things, or subducted from them.
When such dictate of reason concurs with other things, then its weight is added to them, as
put into the same scale ; but when it is against them, it is as a weight in the opposite scale,
resisting the influence of other things: yet its resistance is often overcome by their greater
weight, and so the act of the Will is determined in opposition to it.
These things may serve, I hope, in some measure, illustrate and confirm the position laid
down in the beginning of this section, viz. "That the Will is always determined by the
strongest motive," or by that view of the mind which has the greatest degree of previous
tendency to excite volition. But whether I have been so happy as rightly to explain the thing
wherein consists the strength of motives, or not, yet my failing in this will not overthrow
the position itself; which carries much of its own evidence with it, and is a point of chief
importance to the purpose of the ensuing discourse: And the truth of it, I hope, will appear
with great clearness, before I have finished what I have to say on the subject of human liberty.
Section III.
Concerning the meaning of the terms, Necessity, Impossibility, Inability, &c. and of
Contingence.
THE words necessary, impossible, &c. are abundantly used in controversies about Free-Will
and Moral Agency ; and therefore the sense in which they are used should be clearly understood.
Here I might say, that a thing is then said to be necessary when it must be, and cannot be
otherwise. But this would not properly be a definition of Necessity, any more than I explained
the word must, by the phrase, there being Necessity. The words must, can, and cannot, need
explication as much as the words necessary, and impossible; excepting that the former are
words that in earliest life we more commonly use.
The word necessary, as used in common speech, is a relative term; and relates to some
supposed opposition made to the existence of a thing, which opposition is overcome, or
proves insufficient to hinder or alter it. That is necessary, in the original and proper sense
of the word, which is, or will be, notwithstanding all supposable opposition. To say, that a
thing is necessary, is the same thing as to say, that it is impossible that it should not be. But
the word impossible is manifestly a relative term, and has reference to supposed power exerted
to bring a thing to pass, which is insufficient for the effect; as the word unable is relative
and has relation to ability, or endeavor, which is insufficient. Also the word irresistible is
relative, and has always reference to resistance which is made, or may be made, to some
force or power tending to an effect, and is insufficient to withstand the power, or hinder
the effect. The common notion of Necessity and Impossibility Implies something that
frustrates endeavor or desire. Here several things are to be noted.
1. Things are said to be necessary in general, which are or will be notwithstanding any supposable
opposition from whatever quarter. But things are said to be necessary to us, which
are or will be notwithstanding all opposition supposable in the case from us. The same may
be observed of the word impossible, and other such like terms.
2. These terms necessary, impossible, irresistible, &c. more especially belong to controversies
about liberty and moral agency, as used in the latter of the two senses now mentioned, viz. as necessary or impossible to us, and with relation to any supposable opposition or endeavor
of ours.
3. As the word Necessity, in its vulgar and common use, is relative, and has always reference
to some supposable insufficient opposition; so when we speak of anything as necessary to
us, it is with relation to some supposable opposition of our Wills, or some voluntary exertion
or effort of ours to the contrary. For we do not properly make opposition to an event, any
otherwise than as we voluntarily oppose it. Things are said to be what must be, or necessarily
are, as to us, when they are, or will be, though we desire or endeavor the contrary, or try to
prevent or remove their existence: but such opposition of ours always either consists in, or
implies, opposition of our wills.
It is manifest that all such like words and phrases, as vulgarly used, are understood in this
manner. A thing is said to be necessary, when we cannot help it, let us do what we will. So
any thing is said to be impossible to us, when we would do it, or would have it brought to
pass, and endeavor it; or at least may be supposed to desire and seek it; but all our desires
and endeavors are, or would be, vain. And that is said to be irresistible, which overcomes
all our opposition, resistance, and endeavor to the contrary. And we are said to be unable
to do a thing when our supposable desires and endeavors are insufficient.
We are accustomed, in the common use of language, thus to apply and understand these
phrases: we grow up with such a habit; which, by the daily use of these terms from our
childhood, becomes fixed and settled; so that the idea of a relation to a supposed will, desire,
and endeavor of ours, is strongly connected with these terms, whenever we hear the words
used. Such ideas, and these words, are so associated, that they unavoidably go together, one
suggests the other, and never can be easily separated as long as we live. And though we use
the words, as terms of art, in another sense, yet, unless we are exceedingly circumspect, we
shall insensibly slide into the vulgar use of them, and so apply the words in a very inconsistent
manner, which will deceive and confound us in our reasonings and discourses, even when
we pretend to use them as terms of art.
4. It follows from what has been observed, that when these terms necessary, impossible, irresistible,
unable, &c. are used in cases wherein no insufficient will is supposed, or can be
supposed, but the very nature of the supposed case itself excludes any opposition, will, or
endeavor; they are then not used in their proper signification. The reason is manifest; in
such cases we cannot use the words with reference to a supposable opposition, will, or endeavor.
And therefore if any man uses these terms in such cases, he either uses them nonsensically,
or in some new sense, diverse from their original and proper meaning. As for
instance; if any one should affirm after this manner, That it is necessary for a man, or what
must be, that he should choose virtue rather than vice, during the time that he prefers virtue
to vice; and that it is a thing impossible and irresistible, that it should be otherwise than that
he should have this choice, so long as this choice continues; such a one would use the terms
must, irresistible, &c. with either insignificance, or in some new sense, diverse from their
common use; which is with reference, as has been observed, to supposable opposition, unwillingness,
and resistance; whereas, here, the very supposition excludes and denies any
such thing: for the case supposed is that of being willing, and choosing.
5. It appears from what has been said, that these terms necessary, impossible, &c. are often
used by philosophers and metaphysicians in a sense quite diverse from their common and
original signification; for they apply them to many cases in which no opposition is supposable.
Thus they use them with respect to God's existence before the creation of the world, when
there was no other being; with regard to many of the dispositions and acts of the divine
Being, such as his loving himself, his loving righteousness, hating sin, &c. So they apply
them to many cases of the inclinations and actions of created intelligent beings wherein all
opposition of the Will is excluded in the very supposition of the case.
Metaphysical or philosophical Necessity is nothing different from their certainty. I speak
not now of the certainty of knowledge, but the certainty that is in things themselves, which
is the foundation of the certainty of the knowledge, or that wherein lies the ground of the
infallibility of the proposition which affirms them.
What is sometimes given as the definition of philosophical Necessity, namely, "That by
which a thing cannot but be," or "where by it cannot be otherwise," fails of being a proper
explanation of it, on two accounts: First, the words can, or cannot, need explanation as much
as the word Necessity; and the former may as well be explained by the latter, as the latter by
the former. Thus, if any one asked us what we mean, when we say, a thing cannot but be,
we might explain ourselves by saying, it must necessarily be so; as well as explain Necessity,
by saying, it is that by which a thing cannot but be. And Secondly, this definition is liable
to the fore-mentioned great inconvenience; the words cannot, or unable, are properly relative,
and have relation to power exerted, or that may be exerted, in order to the thing spoken of;
to which as I have now observed, the word Necessity, as used by philosophers, has no reference.
Philosophical Necessity is really nothing else than the FULL AND FIXED CONNECTION
BETWEEN THE THINGS SIGNIFIED BY THE SUBJECT AND PREDICATE OF A PROPOSITION,
which affirms something to be true. When there is such a connection, then the
thing affirmed in the proposition is necessary, in a philosophical sense; whether any opposition
or contrary effort be supposed, or no. When the subject and predicate of the proposition,
which affirms the existence of any thing, either substance, quality, act, or circumstance,
have a full and CERTAIN CONNECTION, then the existence or being of that thing is said
to be necessary in a metaphysical sense. And in this sense I use the word necessity, in the
following discourse, when I endeavor to prove that necessity is not inconsistent with liberty.
The subject and predicate of a proposition, which affirms existence of something, may have
a full, fixed, and certain connection several ways.
(1.) They may have a full and perfect connection in and of themselves; because it may imply
a contradiction, or gross absurdity, to suppose them not connected. Thus many things are
necessary in their own nature. So the eternal existence of being generally considered, is necessary
in itself: because it would be in itself the greatest absurdity, to deny the existence of
being in general, or to say there was absolute and universal nothing; and is as it were the
sum of all contradictions; as might be shown if this were a proper place for it. So God's infinity
and other attributes are necessary. So it is necessary in its own nature, that two and
two should be four; and it is necessary that all right lines drawn from the center of a circle
to the circumference should be equal. It is necessary, fit and suitable, that men should do
to others, as they would that they should do to them. So innumerable metaphysical and
mathematical truths are necessary in themselves: the subject and predicate of the proposition
which affirm them, are perfectly connected of themselves.
(2.) The connection of the subject and predicate of a proposition, which affirms the existence
of something, may be fixed and made certain, because the existence of that thing is already
come to pass; and either now is, or has been; and so has, as it were, made sure of existence.
And therefore, the proposition which affirms present and past existence of it, may by this
means be made certain and necessarily and unalterably true; the past event has fixed and
decided the matter, as to its existence; and has made it impossible but that existence should
be truly predicated of it. Thus the existence of whatever is already come to pass, is now become
necessary; it is become impossible it should be otherwise than true, that such a thing
has been.
(3.) The subject and predicate of a proposition which affirms something to be, may have a
real and certain connection consequently; and so the existence of the thing may be consequently
necessary; as it may be surely and firmly connected with something else, that is
necessary in one of the former respects. As it is either fully and thoroughly connected with
that which is absolutely necessary in its own nature, or with something which has already
received and made sure of existence. This Necessity lies in, or may be explained by, the
connection of two or more propositions one with another.- - Things which are perfectly
connected with other things that are necessary, are necessary themselves, by a Necessity of
consequence.
And here it may be observed, that all things which are future, or which will hereafter begin
to be, which can be said to be necessary, are necessary only in this last way. Their existence
is not necessary in itself; for if so, they always would have existed. Nor is their existence become
necessary by being already come to pass. Therefore, the only way that any thing that
is to come to pass hereafter is or can be necessary, is by a connection with something that
is necessary in its own nature, or something that already is, or has been; so that the one being supposed the other certainly follows.- And this also is the only way that all things past, excepting
those which were from eternity, could be necessary before they come to pass; and
therefore the only way in which any effect or event, or any thing whatsoever that ever has
had or will have a beginning, has come into being necessarily, or will hereafter necessarily
exist. And therefore this is the Necessity which especially belongs to controversies about
the acts of the will.
It may be of some use in these controversies, further to observe concerning, metaphysical
Necessity, that (agreeable to the distinction before observed of Necessity, as vulgarly understood)
things that exist may be said to be necessary, either with a general or particular Necessity.
The existence of a thing may be said to be necessary with a general Necessity, when,
all things considered, there is a foundation for the certainty of their existence; or when in
the most general and universal view of things, the subject and predicate of the proposition,
which affirms its existence, would appear with an infallible connection.
An event, or the existence of a thing, may be said to be necessary with a particular Necessity,
when nothing that can be taken into consideration, in or about a person, thing, or time, alters
the case at all, as to the certainty of an event, or the existence of a thing; or can be of any
account at all, in determining the infallibility of the connection of the subject and predicate
in the proposition which affirms the existence of the things; so that it is all one, as to that
person, or thing, at least, at that time, as if the existence were necessary with a Necessity
that is most universal and absolute. Thus there are many things that happen to particular
persons, in the existence of which no will of theirs has any concern, at least, at that time;
which, whether they are necessary or not, with regard to things in general, yet are necessary
to them, and with regard to any volition of theirs at that time; as they prevent all acts of the
will about the affair.- I shall have occasion to apply this observation to particular instances
in the following discourse.- Whether the same things that are necessary with a particular
Necessity, be not also necessary with a general Necessity, may be a matter of future consideration.
Let that be as it will, it alters not the case, as to the use of this distinction of the kinds
of Necessity.
These things may be sufficient for the explaining of the terms necessary and Necessity, as
terms of art, and as often used by metaphysicians, and controversial writers in divinity, in
a sense diverse from, and more extensive than, their original meaning, in common language,
which was before explained.
What has been said to show the meaning of the terms necessary and necessity, may be sufficient
for the explaining of the opposite terms, impossible and impossibility. For there is
no difference, but only the latter are negative, and the former positive. Impossibility is the same as negative necessity, or a Necessity that a thing should not be. And it is used as a term
of art in a like diversity from the original and vulgar meaning, with Necessity.
The same may be observed concerning the words unable and inability. It has been observed,
that these terms, in their original and common use, have relation to will and endeavor, as
supposable in the case, and as insufficient for the bringing to pass the thing willed and endeavored.
But as these terms are often used by philosophers and divines, especially writers
on controversies about Free Will, they are used in a quite different and far more extensive
sense, and are applied to many cases wherein no will or endeavor for the bringing of the
thing to pass is or can be supposed.
As the words necessary, impossible, unable, &c. are used by polemic writers, in a sense diverse
from their common signification, the like has happened to the term contingent. Any thing
is said to be contingent, or to come to pass by chance or accident, in the original meaning
of such words, when its connection with its causes or antecedents, according to the established
course of things, is not discerned; and so is what we have no means of foreseeing. And especially
is any thing said to be contingent, or accidental, with regard to us, when it comes to
pass without our foreknowledge, and besides our design and scope.
But the word contingent is abundantly used in a very different sense; not for that whose
connection with the series of things we cannot discern, so as to foresee the event, but for
something which has absolutely no previous ground or reason, with which its existence has
any fixed and certain connection...
Section IV.
Of the distinction of natural and moral Necessity, and Inability.
That Necessity which has been explained, consisting in an infallible connexion of the things
signified by the subject and predicate of a proposition, as intelligent beings are the subjects
of it, is distinguished into moral and natural Necessity.
I shall not now stand to inquire whether this distinction be a proper and perfect distinction;
but shall only explain how these two sorts of Necessity are understood, as the terms are
sometimes used, and as they are used in the following discourse.
The phrase, moral Necessity, is used variously: sometimes it is used for a Necessity of moral
obligation. So we say, a man is under Necessity, when he is under bonds of duty and conscience,
from which he cannot be discharged. Again, the word Necessity is often used for
great obligation in point of interest. Sometimes by moral Necessity is meant that apparent
connexion of things, which is the ground of moral evidence; and so is distinguished from
absolute Necessity, or that sure connexion of things, that is a foundation for infallible certainty.
In this sense, moral Necessity signifies much the same as that high degree of probability,
which is ordinarily sufficient to satisfy mankind, in their conduct and behavior in the
world, as they would consult their own safety and interest, and treat others properly as
members of society. And sometimes by moral Necessity is meant that Necessity of connexion
and consequence, which arises from such moral causes, as the strength of inclination, or
motives, and the connexion which there is in many cases between these and such certain
volitions and actions. And it is in this sense, that I use the phrase, moral necessity, in the
following discourse.
By natural necessity, as applied to men, I mean such Necessity as men are under through
the force of natural causes; as distinguished from what are called moral causes, such as habits
and dispositions of the heart, and moral motives and inducements. Thus men, placed in
certain circumstances, are the subjects of particular sensations by Necessity: they feel pain
when their bodies are wounded; they see the objects presented before them in a clear light,
when their eyes are opened: so they assent to the truth of certain propositions, as soon as
the terms are understood; as that two and two make four, that black is not white, that two
parallel lines can never cross one another; so by a natural Necessity men's bodies move
downwards, when there is nothing to support them.
But here several things may be noted concerning these two kinds of Necessity.
1. Moral Necessity may be as absolute as natural Necessity. That is, the effect may be as
perfectly connected with its moral cause, as a natural, necessary effect is with its natural
cause. Whether the Will in every case is necessarily determined by the strongest motive, or
whether the Will ever makes any resistance to such a motive, or can ever oppose the strongest
present inclination, or not; if that matter should be controverted, yet I suppose none will
deny, but that, in some cases, a previous bias and inclination, or the motive presented, may
be so powerful, that the act of the will may be certainly and indissolubly connected therewith.
When motives or previous bias are very strong, all will allow that there is some difficulty in
going against them. And if they were yet stronger, the difficulty would be still greater. And
therefore, if more were still added to their strength, to a certain degree, it would make the
difficulty so great, that it would be wholly impossible to surmount it; for this plain reason,
because whatever power men may be supposed to have to surmount difficulties, yet that
power is not infinite; and so goes not beyond certain limits. If a man can surmount ten degrees
of difficulty of this kind with twenty degrees of strength, because the degrees of strength
are beyond the degrees of difficulty; yet if the difficulty be increased to thirty, or an hundred,
or a thousand degrees, and his strength not also increased, his strength will be wholly insufficient
to surmount the difficulty. As therefore it must be allowed, that there may be such
a thing as a sure and perfect connexion between moral causes and effects; so this only is
what I call by the name of moral Necessity.
2. When I use this distinction of moral and natured Necessity, I would not be understood
to suppose, that if any thing come to pass by the former kind of Necessity, the nature of
things is not concerned in it, as well as in the latter. I do not mean to determine, that when
a moral habit or motive is so strong, that the act of the Will infallibly follows, this is not
owing to the nature of things. But natural and moral are the terms by which these two kinds
of Necessity have usually been called; and they must be distinguished by some names, for
there is a difference between them, that is very important in its consequences. This difference,
however, does not lie so much in the nature of the connexion, as in the two terms connected.
The cause with which the effect is connected, is of a particular kind; viz. that which is of a
moral nature; either some previous habitual disposition, or some motive exhibited to the
understanding. And the effect is also of a particular kind; being likewise of a moral nature;
consisting in some inclination or volition of the soul, or voluntary action.
I suppose, that Necessity which is called natural in distinction from moral Necessity, is so
called, because mere nature, as the word is vulgarly used, is concerned, without any thing
of choice. The word nature is often used in opposition to choice; not because nature has
indeed never any hand in our choice; but, probably, because we first get our notion of nature
from that obvious course of events, which we observe in many things where our choice has
no concern; and especially in the material world; which, in very many parts of it, we easily
perceive to be in a settled course; the stated order, and manner of succession, being very
apparent. But where we do not readily discern the rule and connexion, (though there be a
connexion, according to an established law, truly taking place,) we signify the manner of
event by some other name. Even in many things which are seen in the material and inanimate
world, which do not obviously come to pass according to any settled course, men do not
call the manner of the event by the name of nature, but by such names as accident, chance,
contingence, &c. So men make a distinction between nature and choice; as if they were
completely and universally distinct. Whereas, I suppose none will deny but that choice, in
many cases, arises from nature, as truly as other events. But the connexion between acts of
choice, and their causes, according to established laws, is not so obvious. And we observe
that choice is, as it were, a new principle of motion and action, different from that established
order of things which is most obvious, and seen especially in corporeal things. The choice
also often interposes, interrupts, and alters the chain of events in these external objects, and
causes them to proceed otherwise than they would do, if let alone. Hence it is spoken of as
if it were a principle of motion entirely distinct from nature, and properly set in opposition
to it. Names being commonly given to things, according to what is most obvious, and is
suggested by what appears to the senses without reflection and research.
3. It must be observed, that in what has been explained, as signified by the name of moral
Necessity, the word Necessity is not used according to the original design and meaning of
the word: for, as was observed before, such terms, necessary, impossible, irresistible, &c. in
common speech, and their most proper sense, are always relative; having reference to some
supposable voluntary opposition or endeavour, that is insufficient. But no such opposition,
or contrary will and endeavour, is supposable in the case of moral Necessity; which is a
certainty of the inclination and will itself; which does not admit of the supposition of a will
to oppose and resist it. For it is absurd, to suppose the same individual will to oppose itself,
in its present act; or the present choice to be opposite to and resisting present choice: as
absurd as it is to talk of two contrary motions, in the same moving body, at the same
time.- And therefore the very case supposed never admits of any trial, whether an opposing
or resisting will can overcome this Necessity.
What has been said of natural and moral Necessity, may serve to explain what is intended
by natural and moral Inability. We are said to be naturally unable to do a thing, when we
cannot do it if we will, because what is most commonly called nature does not allow of it,
or because of some impeding defect or obstacle that is extrinsic to the Will; either in the
Faculty of understanding, constitution of body, or external objects. Moral Inability consists
not in any of these things; but either in the want of inclination; or the strength of a contrary
inclination; or the want of sufficient motives in view, to induce and excite the act of the
Will, or the strength of apparent motives to the contrary. Or both these may be resolved
into one; and it may be said in one word, that moral Inability consists in the opposition or
want of inclination. For when a person is unable to will or choose such a thing, through a
defect of motives, or prevalence of contrary motives, it is the same thing as his being unable
through the want of an inclination, or the prevalence of a contrary inclination, in such circumstances,
and under the influence of such views.
To give some instances of this moral Inability.- A woman of great honour and chastity
may have a moral Inability to prostitute herself to her slave. A child of great love and duty
to his parents, may be thus unable to kill his father. A very lascivious man, in case of certain
opportunities and temptations, and in the absence of such and such restraints, may be unable
to forbear gratifying his lust. A drunkard, under such and such circumstances, may be unable
to forbear taking strong drink. A very malicious man may be unable to exert benevolent
acts to an enemy, or to desire his prosperity; yea, some may be so under the power of a vile
disposition, that they may be unable to love those who are most worthy of their esteem and
affection. A strong habit of virtue, and a great degree of holiness, may cause a moral Inability
to love wickedness in general, and may render a man unable to take complacence in wicked
persons or things; or to choose a wicked in preference to a virtuous life. And on the other
hand, a great degree of habitual wickedness may lay a man under an Inability to love and
choose holiness; and render him utterly unable to love an infinitely holy Being, or to choose
and cleave to him as his chief good.
Here it may be of use to observe this distinction of moral Inability, viz. of that which is
general and habitual, and that which is particular and occasional. By a general and habitual
moral Inability, I mean an Inability in the heart to all exercises or acts of will of that kind,
through a fixed and habitual inclination, or an habitual and stated defect, or want of a certain
kind of inclination. Thus a very ill-natured man may be unable to exert such acts of benevolence,
as another, who is full of good nature, commonly exerts; and a man whose heart
is habitually void of gratitude, may be unable to exert grateful acts. through that stated defect
of a grateful inclination. By particular and occasional moral Inability, I mean an Inability
of the will or heart to a particular act, through the strength or defect of present motives, or
of inducements presented to the view of the understanding, on this occasion.- If it be so,
that the Will is always determined by the strongest motive, then it must always have an Inability,
in this latter sense, to act otherwise than it does; it not being possible, in any case,
that the Will should, at present, go against the motive which has now, all things considered,
the greatest advantage to induce it.- The former of these kinds of moral inability is most
commonly called by the name of Inability; because the word, in its most proper and original
signification, has respect to some stated defect. And this especially obtains the name of Inability
also upon another account: - because, as before observed, the word Inability, in its
original and most common use, is a relative term; and has respect to will and endeavor, as
supposable in the case, and as insufficient to bring to pass the thing desired and endeavored.
Now there may be more of an appearance and shadow of this, with respect to the acts which
arise from a fixed and strong habit, than others that arise only from transient occasions and
causes. Indeed will and endeavour against, or diverse from present acts of the Will are in
no case supposable, whether those acts be occasional or habitual; for that would be to suppose
the Will, at present, to be otherwise than, at present, it is. But yet their may be will and endeavour
against future acts of the Will, or volitions that are likely to take place, as viewed
at a distance. It is no contradiction, to suppose that the acts of the Will at one time, may be
against the acts of the Will at another time; and there may be desires and endeavors to prevent
or excite future acts of the will; but such desires and endeavors are, in many cases, rendered
insufficient and vain, through fixedness of habit: when the occasion returns, the strength
of habit overcomes and baffles all such opposition. In this respect, a man may be in miserable
slavery and bondage to a strong habit. But it may be comparatively easy to make an alteration,
with respect to such future acts, as are only occasional and transient; because the occasion
or transient cause, if foreseen, may often easily be prevented or avoided. On this account,
the moral Inability that attends fixed habits, especially obtains the name of Inability. And
then, as the will may remotely and indirectly resist itself, and do it in vain, in the case of
strong habits; so reason may resist present acts of the Will, and its resistance be insufficient;
and this is more commonly the case also, when the acts arise from strong habit.
But it must be observed concerning moral Inability, in each kind of it, that the word Inability
is used in a sense very diverse from its original import. The word signifies only a natural
Inability, in the proper use of it; and is applied to such cases only wherein a present will or
inclination to the thing, with respect to which a person is said to be unable, is supposable.
It cannot be truly said, according to the ordinary use of language, that a malicious man, let
him be never so malicious, cannot hold his hand from striking, or that he is not able to show
his neighbor kindness; or that a drunkard, let his appetite be never so strong, cannot keep
the cup from his mouth. In the strictest propriety of speech, a man has a thing in his power,
if he has it in his choice, or at his election: and a man cannot be truly said to be unable to
do a thing, when he can do it if he will. It is improperly said, that a person cannot perform
those external actions, which are dependent on the act of the Will, and which would be
easily performed, if the act of the Will were present. And if it be improperly said, that he
cannot perform those external voluntary actions, which depend on the Will, it is in some
respect more improperly said, that he is unable to exert the acts of the Will themselves; because
it is more evidently false, with respect to these, that he cannot if he will: for to say so,
is a downright contradiction; it is to say, he cannot will, if he does will. And in this case, not
only is it true, that it is easy for a man to do the thing if he will, but the very willing is the
doing; when once he has willed, the thing is performed; and nothing else remains to be
done. Therefore, in these things, to ascribe a non-performance to the want of power or
ability, is not just; because the thing wanting, is not a being able, but a being willing. There
are faculties of mind, and a capacity of nature, and every thing else, sufficient, but a disposition: nothing is wanting but a will.
Section V.
Concerning the notion of Liberty, and of moral Agency.
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.
If this which I have mentioned be the meaning of the word Liberty, in the ordinary use of
language; as I trust that none that has ever learned to talk, and is unprejudiced, will deny;
then it will follow, that in propriety of speech, neither Liberty, nor its contrary, can properly
be ascribed to any being or thing, but that which has such a faculty, power or property, as
is called will. For that which is possessed of no will, cannot have any power or opportunity
of doing according to its will, nor be necessitated to act contrary to its will, nor be restrained
from acting agreeably to it. And therefore to talk of Liberty, or the contrary, as belonging
to the very Will itself, is not to speak good sense; if we judge of sense, and nonsense, by the
original and proper signification of words.- For the Will itself is not an Agent that has a
will: the power of choosing, itself, has not a power of choosing. That which has the power
of volition is the man, or the soul, and not the power of volition itself. And he that has the
Liberty of doing according to his will, is the Agent who is possessed of the Will; and not the
Will which he is possessed of. We say with propriety, that a bird let loose has power and
liberty to fly; but not that the bird's power of flying has a power and Liberty of flying. To be
free is the property of an Agent, who is possessed of powers and faculties, as much as to be
cunning, valiant, bountiful, or zealous. But these qualities are the properties of persons; and
not the properties of properties.
There are two things contrary to what is called Liberty in common speech. One is constraint;
otherwise called force, compulsion, and coaction; 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.- I need say the less on this bead, Mr. Locke having set the same thing forth,
with so great clearness, in his Essay on the Human Understanding.
But one thing more I would observe concerning what is vulgarly called Liberty; 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.
What has been said may be sufficient to show what is meant by Liberty, according to the
common notions of mankind, and in the usual and primary acceptation of the word: but
the word, as used by Arminians, Pelagians, and others, who oppose the Calvinists, has an
entirely different signification.- These several things belong to their notion of Liberty. 1.
That it consists in a self-determining power in the Will, or a certain sovereignty the Will
has over itself, and its own acts, whereby it determines its own volitions; so as not to be dependent,
in its determinations, on any cause without itself, nor determined by any thing
prior to its own acts. 2. Indifference belongs to Liberty in their notion of it, or that the mind,
previous to the act of volition, be in equilibrio. 3. Contingence is another thing that belongs
and is essential to it; not in the common acceptation of the word, as that has been already
explained, but as opposed to all necessity, or any fixed and certain connexion with some
previous ground or reason of its existence. They suppose the essence of Liberty so much to
consist in these things, that unless the will of man be free in this sense, he has no real freedom,
how much soever, he may be at Liberty to act according to his will.
A moral agent is a being that is capable of those actions that have a moral quality, and which
can properly be denominated good or evil in a moral sense, virtuous or vicious, commendable
or faulty. To moral Agency belongs a moral faculty, or sense of moral good and evil, or of
such a thing as desert or worthiness, of praise or blame, reward or punishments; and a capacity
which an Agent has of being influenced in his actions by moral inducements or motives,
exhibited to the view of understanding and reason, to engage to a conduct agreeable to the
moral faculty.
The sun is very excellent and beneficial in its action and influence on the earth, in warming
and causing it to bring forth its fruit; but it is not a moral agent: its action, though good, is
not virtuous or meritorious. Fire that breaks out in a city, and consumes great part of it, is
very mischievous in its operation; but is not a moral Agent: what it does is not faulty or
sinful, or deserving of any punishment. The brute creatures are not moral Agents: the actions
of some of them are very profitable and pleasant; others are very hurtful: yet seeing they
have no moral faculty, or sense of desert, and do not act from choice guided by understanding,
or with a capacity of reasoning and reflecting, but only from instinct, and are not capable
of being influenced by moral inducements, their actions are not properly sinful or virtuous,
nor are they properly the subjects of any such moral treatment for what they do, as moral
Agents are for their faults or good deeds.
Here it may be noted, that there is a circumstantial difference between the moral Agency
of a ruler and a subject. I call it circumstantial, because it lies only in the difference of moral
inducements, by which they are capable of being influenced, arising from the difference of
circumstance. A ruler, acting in that capacity only, is not capable of being influenced by a
moral law, and its sanctions of threatenings and promises, rewards and punishments, as the
subject is; though both may be influenced by a knowledge of moral good and evil. And
therefore the moral Agency of the Supreme Being, who acts only in the capacity of a ruler
towards his creatures, and never as a subject, differs in that respect from the moral Agency
of created intelligent beings. God's actions, and particularly those which he exerts as a
moral governor, have moral qualifications, and are morally good in the highest degree. They
are most perfectly holy and righteous; and we must conceive of Him as influenced, in the
highest degree, by that which, above all others, is properly a moral inducement; viz. the
moral good which He sees in such and such things: and therefore He is, in the most proper
sense, a moral Agent, the source of all moral ability and Agency, the fountain and rule of
all virtue and moral good; though by reason of his being supreme over all, it is not possible
He should be under the influence of law or command, promises or threatenings, rewards
or punishments, counsels or warnings. The essential qualities of a moral Agent are in God,
in the greatest possible perfection; such as understanding to perceive the difference between
moral good and evil; a capacity of discerning that moral worthiness and demerit, by which
some things are praiseworthy, others deserving of blame and punishment; and also a capacity
of choice, and choice guided by understanding, and a power of acting according to his choice
or pleasure, and being capable of doing those things which are in the highest sense praiseworthy.
And herein does very much consist that image of God wherein he made man, (which
we read of, Gen. 1:26, 27, and chap. 9:6.) by which God distinguished man from the beasts,
viz. in those faculties and principles of nature, whereby He is capable of moral Agency.
Herein very much consists the natural image of God; whereas the spiritual and moral image,
wherein man was made at first, consisted in that moral excellency with which he was endowed.
PART II.
WHEREIN IT IS CONSIDERED WHETHER THERE IS OR CAN BE ANY SORT
OF FREEDOM OF WILL, AS THAT WHEREIN ARMINIANS PLACE THE
ESSENCE OF THE LIBERTY OF ALL MORAL AGENTS; AND WHETHER
ANY SUCH THING EVER WAS OR CAN BE CONCEIVED OF.
Section I.
Showing the manifest inconsistence of the Arminian notion of Liberty of Will, consisting
in the Will's self-determining Power.
Having taken notice of those things which may be necessary to be observed, concerning the
meaning of the principal terms and phrases made use of in controversies concerning human
liberty, and particularly observed what Liberty is according to the common language and
general apprehension of mankind, and what it is as understood and maintained by
Arminians; I proceed to consider the Arminian notion of the Freedom of the Will, and the
supposed necessity of it in order to moral agency, or in order to any one's being capable of
virtue or vice, and properly the subject of command or counsel, praise or blame, promises
or threatenings, rewards or punishments; or whether that which has been described, as the
thing meant by Liberty in common speech, be not sufficient, and the only Liberty, which
make, or can make any one a moral agent, and so properly the subject of these things. In
this Part, I shall consider whether any such thing be possible or conceivable, as that Freedom
of Will which Arminians insist on; and shall inquire, whether any such sort of Liberty be
necessary to moral agency, &c. in the next part.
And first of all, I shall consider the notion of a self-determining Power in the Will: wherein,
according to the Arminians, does most essentially consist the Will's freedom; and shall
particularly inquire, whether it be not plainly absurd, and a manifest inconsistence, to suppose
that the Will itself determines all the free acts of the will.
Here I shall not insist on the great impropriety of such ways of speaking as the Will determining
itself; because actions are to be ascribed to agents, and not properly to the powers of
agents; which improper way of speaking leads to many mistakes, and much confusion, as
Mr. Locke observes. But I shall suppose that the Arminians, when they speak of the Will's
determining itself, do by the Will mean the soul willing. I shall take it for granted, that when
they speak of the will, as the determiner, they mean the soul in the exercise of a power of
willing, or acting voluntarily. I shall suppose this to be their meaning, because nothing else
can be meant, without the grossest and plainest absurdity. In all cases when we speak of the
powers or principles of acting, or doing such things we mean that the agents which have
these Powers of acting, do them, in the exercise of those Powers. So where we say, valor
fights courageously, we mean, the man who is under the influence of valor fights courageously.
Where we say, love seeks the object loved, we mean, the person loving seeks that
object. When we say, the understanding discerns, we mean the soul in the exercise of that
faculty. So when it is said, the will decides or determines, this meaning must be, that the
person, in the exercise of: Power of willing and choosing, or the soul, acting voluntarily,
determines.
Therefore, if the Will determines all its own free acts the soul determines them in the exercise
of a Power of willing and choosing; or, which is the same thing, it determines them of choice;
it determines its own acts, by choosing its own acts. If the Will determines the Will then
choice orders and determines the choice; and acts of choice are subject to the decision, and
follow the conduct of other acts of choice. And therefore if the Will determines all its own
free acts, then every free act of choice is determined by a preceding act of choice, choosing
that act. And if that preceding act of the will be also a free act, then by these principles, in
this act too, the will is self-determined: that is, this, in like manner, is an act that the soul
voluntarily chooses; or, which is the same thing, it is an act determined still by a preceding
act of the will, choosing that. Which brings us directly to a contradiction: for it supposes an
act of the Will preceding the first act in the whole train, directing and determining the rest;
or a free act of the Will, before the first free act of the Will. Or else we must come at last to
an act of the will, determining the consequent acts, wherein the Will is not self-determined,
and so is not a free act, in this notion of freedom: but if the first act in the train, determining
and fixing the rest, be not free, none of them all can be free; as is manifest at first view, but
shall be demonstrated presently.
If the Will, which we find governs the members of the body, and determines their motions,
does also govern itself, and determines its own actions, it doubtless determines them the
same way, even by antecedent volitions. The Will determines which way the hands and feet
shall move, by an act of choice: and there is no other way of the Will's determining, directing,
or commanding any thing at all. Whatsoever the will commands, it commands by an act of
the Will. And if it has itself under its command, and determines itself in its own actions, it
doubtless does it the same way that it determines other things which are under its command.
So that if the freedom of the will consists in this, that it has itself and its own actions under
its command and direction, and its own volitions are determined by itself, it will follow,
that every free volition arises from another antecedent volition, directing and commanding
that: and if that directing volition be also free, in that also the will is determined; that is to
say, that directing volition is determined by another going before that; and so on, till we
come to the first volition in the whole series: and if that first volition be free, and the will
self-determined in it, then that is determined by another volition preceding that. Which is
a contradiction; because by the supposition, it can have none before it, to direct or determine
it, being the first in the train. But if that first volition is not determined by any preceding
act of the Will, then that act is not determined by the Will, and so is not free in the
Arminian notion of freedom, which consists in the Will's self-determination. And if that
first act of the will which determines and fixes the subsequent acts, be not free, none of the
following acts which are determined by it can be free.- If we suppose there are five acts in
the train, the fifth and last determined by the fourth, and the fourth by the third, the third
by the second, and the second by the first; if the first is not determined by the Will, and so
not free, then none of them are truly determined by the Will: that is, that each of them are
as they are, and not otherwise, is not first owing to the will, but to the determination of the
first in the series, which is not dependent on the will, and is that which the will has no hand
in determining. And this being that which decides what the rest shall be, and determines
their existence; therefore the first determination of their existence is not from the Will. The
case is just the same, if instead of a chain of five acts of the Will, we should suppose a succession
of ten, or an hundred, or ten thousand. If the first act he not free, being determined
by something out of the will, and this determines the next to be agreeable to itself, and that
the next, and so on; none of them are free, but all originally depend on, and are determined
by, some cause out of the Will; and so all freedom in the case is excluded, and no act of the
will can be free, according to this notion of freedom. If we should suppose a long chain of
ten thousand links, so connected, that if the first link moves, it will move the next, and that
the next; and so the whole chain must be determined to motion, and in the direction of its
motion, by the motion of the first link; and that is moved by something else; in this case,
though all the links, but one, are moved by other parts of the same chain, yet it appears that
the motion of no one, nor the direction of its motion, is from any self-moving or self-determining
power in the chain, any more than if every link were immediately moved by
something that did not belong to the chain.- If the Will be not free in the first act, which
causes the next, then neither is it free in the next, which is caused by that first act; for though
indeed the Will caused it, yet it did not cause it freely; because the preceding act, by which
it was caused, was not free. And again, if the Will be not free in the second act, so neither
can it be in the third, which is caused by that; because in like manner, that third was determined
by an act of the Will that was not free. And so we may go on to the next act, and from
that to the next; and how long soever the succession of acts is, it is all one: if the first on
which the whole chain depends, and which determines all the rest, be not a free act, the Will
is not free in causing or determining any one of those acts; because the act by which it determines
them all is not a free act; and therefore the Will is no more free in determining
them, than if it did not cause them at all.- Thus, this Arminian notion of Liberty of the
Will, consisting in the will's Self-determination, is repugnant to itself, and shuts itself wholly
out of the world.
Section II.
Several supposed ways of evading the foregoing reasoning considered.
If to evade the force of what has been observed, it should be said, that when the Arminians
speak of the Will determining its own acts, they do not mean that the Will determines them
by any preceding act, or that one act of the will determines another; but only that the faculty
or power of Will, or the soul in the use of that power, determines its own volitions; and that
it does it without any act going before the act determined; such an evasion would be full of
the most gross absurdity.- I confess, it is an evasion of my own inventing; and I do not
know but I should wrong the Arminians, in supposing that any of them would make use of
it. Bur, it being as good a one as I can invent, I would observe upon it a few things.
First, If the power of the will determines an act of volition, or the soul in the use or exercise
of that power determines it, that is the same thing as for the soul to determine volition by
an act of will, For an exercise of the power of will, and an act of that power, are the same
thing. therefore to say, that the power of will, or the soul in the use or exercise of that power,
determines volition, without an act of will preceding the volition determined, is a contradiction.
Secondly, If a power of will determines the act of the Will, then a power of choosing determines
it. For, as was before observed, in every act of will, there is choice, and a power of willing
is a power of choosing. But if a power of choosing determines the act of volition, it determines
it by choosing it. For it is most absurd to say, that a power of choosing determines one thing
rather than another, without choosing any thing. But if a power of choosing determines
volition by choosing it, then here is the act of volition determined by an antecedent choice,
choosing that volition.
Thirdly, To say, that the faculty, or the soul, determines its own volition, but not by any act,
is a contradiction. Because for the soul to direct, decide, or determine any thing, is to act;
and this is supposed: for the soul is here spoken of as being a cause in this affair, doing
something; or, which is the same thing, exerting itself in order to an effect, which effect is
the determination of volition, or the particular kind and manner of an act of will. But certainly,
this action is not the same with the effect, in order to the production of which it is
exerted; but must be something prior to it.
The advocates for this notion of the freedom of the Will, speak of a certain sovereignty in
the will, whereby it has power to determine its own volition. And therefore the determination
of volition must itself be an act of the will; for otherwise it can be no exercise of that supposed
power and sovereignty. Again, if the Will determines itself, then either the will is active in
determining its volitions, or it is not. If active, then the determination is an act of the will;
and so there is one act of the will determining another. But if the Will is not active in the
determination, then how does it exercise any liberty in it? These gentlemen suppose that
the thing wherein the Will exercises liberty, is in its determining its own acts. But how can
this be, if it be not active in determining? Certainly the will, or the soul, cannot exercise any
liberty in that wherein it doth not act, or wherein it doth not exercise itself. So that if either
part of this dilemma be taken, this scheme of liberty, consisting in self-determining power,
is overthrown. If there be an act of the Will in determining all its own free acts, then one
free act of the Will is determined by another; and so we have the absurdity of every free act,
even the very first, determined by a foregoing free act. But if there be no act or exercise of
the Will in determining its own acts, then no liberty is exercised in determining them. From
whence it follows, that no liberty consists in the Will's power to determine its own acts: or,
which is the same thing, that there is no such thing as liberty consisting in a self-determining
power of the Will.
If it should be said, That although it be true, if the soul determines its own volitions, it must
be active in so doing, and the determination itself must be an act; yet there is no need of
supposing this act to be prior to the volition determined; but the will or soul determines the
act of the Will in willing; it determines its own volition, in the very act of volition; it directs
and limits the act of the will, causing it to be so and not otherwise, in exerting the act, without
any preceding act to exert that. If any should say after this manner, they must mean one of
these three things: either, (1.) That the determining act, though it be before the act determined
in the order of nature, yet is not before it in order of time. Or, (2.) That the determining act
is not before the act determined, either in the order of time or nature, nor is truly distinct
from it; but that the soul's determining the act of volition is the same thing with its exerting
the act of volition: the mind's exerting such a particular act, is its causing and determining
the act. Or, (3.) that volition has no cause, and is no effect; but comes into existence, with
such a particular determination, without any ground or reason of its existence and determination.
I shall consider these distinctly.
(1.) If all that is meant, be, that the determining act is not before the act determined in order
of time, it will not help the case at all, though it should be allowed. If it be before the determined
act in the order of nature, being the cause or ground of its existence, this as much
proves it to be distinct from, and independent on it, as if it were before in the order of time.
As the cause of the particular motion of a natural body in a certain direction, may have no
distance as to time, yet cannot be the same with the motion effected by it, but must be as
distinct from it, as any other cause, that is before its effect in the order of time: as the architect
is distinct from the house which he builds, or the father distinct from the son which he begets.
And if the act of the Will determining be distinct from the act determined, and before it in
the order of nature, then we can go back from one to another, till we come to the first in the
series, which has no act of the will before it in the order of nature, determining it; and consequently
is an act not determined by the will, and so not a free act, in this notion of freedom.
And this being the act which determines all the rest, none of them are free acts. As when
there is a chain of many links, the first of which only is taken hold of and drawn by hand;
all the rest may follow and be moved at the same instant, without any distance of time; but
yet the motion of one link is before that of another in the order of nature; the last is moved
by the next, and that by the next, and so till we come to the first; which not being moved by
any other, but by something distinct from the whole chain, this as much proves that no part
is moved by any self-moving power in the chain, as if the motion of one link followed that
of another in the order of time.
(2.) If any should say, that the determining act is not before the determined act, either in
the order of time, or of nature, nor is distinct from it; but that the exertion of the that act is
the determination of the act; that for the soul to exert a particular volition, is for it to cause
and determine that act of volition: I would on this observe, that the thing in question seems
to be forgotten, or kept out of sight in a darkness and unintelligibleness of speech; unless
such an objector would mean to contradict himself.- The very act of volition itself is
doubtless a determination of mind; i. e. it is the mind's drawing up a conclusion, or coming
to a choice between two or more things proposed to it. But determining among external
objects of choice, is not the same with determining the act of choice itself, among various
possible acts of choice.- The question is, What influences, directs, or determines the mind
or Will to come to such a conclusion or choice as it does? Or what is the cause, ground, or
reason, why it concludes thus, and not otherwise? Now it must be answered, according to
the Arminian notion of freedom, that the Will influences, orders, and determines itself thus
to act. And if it does, I say, it must be by some antecedent act. To say, it is caused, influenced,
and determined by something, and yet not determined by any thing antecedent, either in
order of time or nature, is a contradiction. For that is what is meant by a thing's being prior
in the order of nature, that it is someway the cause or reason of the thing, with respect to
which it is said to be prior.
If the particular act or exertion of will, which comes into existence, be any thing properly
determined at all, then it has some cause of existing, and of existing in such a particular
determinate manner, and not another; some cause, whose influence decides the matter:
which cause is distinct from the effect, and prior to it. But to say, that the Will or mind orders,
influences, and determines itself to exert an act by the very exertion itself, is to make the
exertion both cause and effect; or the exerting such an act, to be a cause of the exertion of
such an act. For the question is, What is the cause and reason of the soul's exerting such an
act? To which the answer is, The soul exerts such an act, and that is the cause of it. And so,
by this, the exertion must be distinct from, and in the order of nature prior to, itself.
(3.) If the meaning be, that the soul's exertion of such a particular act of will, is a thing that
comes to pass of itself, without any cause; and that there is absolutely no reason of the soul
being determined to exert such a volition, and make such a choice, rather than another; I
say, if this be the meaning of Arminians, when they contend so earnestly for the Will determining
its own acts, and for liberty of Will consisting in self-determining power; they do
nothing but confound themselves and others with words without a meaning. In the question,
What determines the will? and in their answer, that the Will determines itself; and in all the
dispute, it seems to be taken for granted, that something determines the Will; and the controversy
on this head is not, whether its determination has any cause or foundation at all;
but where the foundation of it is, whether in the will itself, or somewhere else. But if the
thing intended be what is above mentioned, then nothing at all determines the Will; volition
having absolutely no cause or foundation of its existence, either within or without.- There
is a great noise made about self-determining power, as the source of all free acts of the Will:
but when the matter comes to be explained, the meaning is, that no power at all is the source
of these acts, neither self-determining power, nor any other, but they arise from nothing;
no cause, no power, no influence, being at all concerned in the matter.
However, this very thing, even that the free acts of the Will are events which come to pass
without a cause, is certainly implied in the Arminian notion of liberty of Will; though it be
very inconsistent with many other things in their scheme, and repugnant to some things
implied in their notion of liberty. Their opinion implies, that the particular determination
of volition is without any cause; because they hold the free acts of the will to be contingent
events; and contingence is essential to freedom in their notion of it. But certainly, those
things which have a prior ground and reason of their particular existence, a cause which
antecedently determines them to be, and determines them to be just as they are, do not
happen contingently. If something foregoing, by a casual influence and connexion, determines
and fixes precisely their coming to pass, and the manner of it, then it does not remain a
contingent thing whether they shall come to pass or no.
And because it is a question in many respects very important in this controversy, Whether
the free acts of the Will are events which come to pass without a cause; I shall be particular
in examining this point in the two following sections.
Section III.
Whether any event whatsoever, and Volition in particular, can come to pass without a
Cause of its existence.
BEFORE I enter on any argument on this subject, I would explain how I would be understood,
when I use the word Cause in this discourse; since, for want of a better word, I shall have
occasion to use it in a sense which is more extensive than that in which it is sometimes used.
The word is often used in so restrained a sense as to signify only that which has a positive
efficiency or influence to produce a thing, or bring it to pass. But there are many things
which have no such positive productive influence; which yet are Causes in this respect, that
they have truly the nature of a reason why some things are, rather than others; or why they
are thus, rather than otherwise. Thus the absence of the sun in the night, is not the Cause
of the fall of dew at that time, in the same manner as its beams are the cause of the ascent
of vapors in the day-time; and its withdrawment in the winter, is not in the same manner
the Cause of the freezing of the waters, as its approach in the spring is the cause of their
thawing. But yet the withdrawment or absence of the sun is an antecedent, with which these
effects in the night and winter are connected, and on which they depend; and is one thing
that belongs to the ground and reason why they come to pass at that time, rather than at
other times; though the absence of the sun is nothing positive, nor has any positive influence.
It may be further observed, that when I speak of connexion of Causes and effects, I have
respect to moral Causes, as well as those that are called natural in distinction from them.
Moral Causes may be Causes in as proper a sense as any Causes whatsoever; may have as
real an influence, and may as truly be the ground and reason of an Event's coming to pass.
Therefore I sometimes use the word Cause, in this inquiry, to signify any antecedent, either
natural or moral, positive or negative, on which an Event, either a thing, or the manner and
circumstance of a thing, so depends, that it is the ground and reason, either in whole, or in
part, why it is, rather than not; or why it is as it is, rather than otherwise; or, in other words,
any antecedent with which a consequent event is so connected, that it truly belongs to the
reason why the proposition which affirms that Event is true; whether it has any positive influence,
or not. And agreeably to this, I sometimes use the word effect for the consequence
of another thing, which is perhaps rather an occasion than a Cause, most properly speaking.
I am the more careful thus to explain my meaning, that I may cut off occasion, from any
that might seek occasion to cavil and object against some things which I may say concerning
the dependence of all things which come to pass, on some Cause, and their connexion with
their Cause.
Having thus explained what I mean by Cause, I assert, that nothing ever comes to pass
without a Cause. What is self-existent must be from eternity, and must be unchangeable:
but as to all things that begin to be, they are not self-existent, and therefore must have some
foundation of their existence without themselves.- That whatsoever begins to be, which
before was not, must have a Cause why it then begins to exist, seems to be the first dictate
of the common and natural sense which God hath implanted in the minds of all mankind,
and the main foundation of all our reasonings about the existence of things, past, present,
or to come.
And this dictate of common sense equally respects substances and modes, or things and the
manner and circumstances of things. Thus, if we see a body which has hitherto been at rest,
start out of a state of rest, and begin to move, we do as naturally and necessarily suppose
there is some Cause or reason of this new mode of existence, as of the existence of a body
itself which had hitherto not existed. And so if a body, which had hitherto moved in a certain
direction, should suddenly change the direction of its motion; or if it should put off its old
figure, and take a new one; or change its color: the beginning of these new modes is a new
Event, and the human mind necessarily supposes that there is some Cause or reason of
them.
If this grand principle of common sense be taken away, all arguing from effects to causes
ceaseth, and so all knowledge of any existence, besides what we have by the most direct and
immediate intuition, particularly all our proof of the being of God, ceases: we argue His
being from our own being, and the being of other things, which we are sensible once were
not, but have begun to be; and from the being of the world, with all its constituent parts,
and the manner of their existence; all which we see plainly are not necessary in their own
nature, and so not self-existent, and therefore must have a Cause. But if things, not in
themselves necessary, may begin to be without a Cause, all this arguing is vain.
Indeed, I will not affirm, that there is in the nature of things no foundation for the knowledge
of the Being of God, without any evidence of it from his works. I do suppose there is a great
absurdity in denying Being in general, and imagining an eternal, absolute, universal nothing:
and therefore that there would be, in the nature of things, a foundation of intuitive evidence,
that there must be an eternal, infinite, most perfect Being; if we had strength and comprehension
of mind sufficient, to have a clear idea of general and universal Being. But then we
should not properly come to the knowledge of the Being of God by arguing; our evidence
would be intuitive: we should see it, as we see other things that are necessary in themselves,
the contraries of which are in their own nature absurd and contradictory; as we see that
twice two is four; and as we see that a circle has no angles. If we had as clear an idea of universal,
infinite entity, as we have of these other things, I suppose we should most intuitively
see the absurdity of supposing such Being not to be; should immediately see there is no
room for the question, whether it is possible that Being, in the most general, abstracted notion
of it should not be. But we have not that strength and extent of mind, to know this certainly
in this intuitive, independent manner: but the way that mankind come to the knowledge of
the Being of God, is that which the apostle speaks of, Rom. 1:20. The invisible things of him
from the creation of the world, are clearly seen; being understood by the things that are
made; even his eternal power and Godhead. We first ascend, and prove a posteriori, or from
effects, that there must be an eternal Cause; and then secondly, prove by argumentation,
not intuition, that this Being must be necessarily existent; and then thirds, from the proved
necessity of his existence, we may descend, and prove many of his perfections a priori.
But if once this grand principle of common sense be given up, that what is not necessary in
itself, must have a Cause; and we begin to maintain, that things which heretofore have not
been, may come into existence, and begin to be of themselves, without any cause; all our
means of ascending in our arguing from the creature to the Creator, and all our evidence
of the Being of God, is cut off at one blow. In this case, we cannot prove that there is a God,
either from the Being of the world, and the creatures in it, or from the manner of their Being,
their order, beauty, and use. For if things may come into existence without any Cause at all,
then they doubtless may without any Cause answerable to the effect. Our minds do alike
naturally suppose and determine both these things; namely, that what begins to be has a
Cause, and also that it has a Cause proportionable to the effect. The same principle which
leads us to determine, that there cannot be any thing coming to pass without a Cause, leads
us to determine that there cannot be more in the effect than in the Cause.
Yea, if once it should be allowed, that things may come to pass without a Cause, we should
not only have no proof of the Being of God, but we should be without evidence of the existence
of any thing whatsoever, but our own immediately present ideas and consciousness.
For we have no way to prove any thing else, but by arguing from effects to Causes: from the
ideas now immediately in view, we argue other things not immediately in view; from sensations
now excited in us, we infer the existence of things without us, as the Causes of these
sensations; and from the existence of these things, we argue other things, on which they
depend, as effects on Causes. We infer the past existence of ourselves, or any thing else, by
memory; only as we argue, that the ideas, which are now in our minds, are the consequences
of past ideas and sensations. We immediately perceive nothing else but the ideas which are
this moment extant in our minds. We perceive or know other things only by means of these,
as necessarily connected with others, and dependent on them. But if things may be without
Causes, all this necessary connexion and dependence is dissolved, and so all means of our
knowledge is gone. If there be no absurdity or difficulty in supposing one thing to start out
of non-existence into being, of itself without a Cause; then there is no absurdity or difficulty
in supposing the same of millions of millions. For nothing, or no difficulty, multiplied, still
is nothing, or no difficulty: nothing multiplied by nothing, does not increase the sum.
And indeed, according to the hypothesis I am opposing, of the acts of the Will coming to
pass without a Cause, it is the cause in fact, that millions of millions of Events are continually
coming into existence contingently, without any Cause or reason why they do so, all over
the world, every day and hour, through all ages. So it is in a constant succession, in every
moral agent. This contingency, this efficient nothing, this effectual No-Cause, is always
ready at hand, to produce this sort of effects, as long as the agent exists, and as often as he
has occasion.
If it were so, that things only of one kind, viz. acts of the Will, seemed to come to pass of
themselves; and it were an Event that was continual, and that happened in a course, wherever
were found subjects capable of such Events; this very thing would demonstrate that there
was some Cause of them, which made such a difference between this Event and others, and
that they did not really happen contingently. For contingence is blind, and does not pick
and choose a particular sort of Events. Nothing has no choice. This No-Cause, which causes
no existence, cannot cause the existence which comes to pass, to be of one particular sort
only, distinguished from all others. Thus, that only one sort of matter drops out of the
heavens, even water, and that this comes so often, so constantly and plentifully, all over the
world, in all ages, shows that there is some Cause or reason of the falling of water out of the
heavens; and that something besides mere contingence has a hand in the matter.
If we should suppose Non-entity to be about to bring forth; and things were coming into
existence, without any Cause or antecedent, on which the existence, or kind, or manner of
existence depends; or which could at all determine whether the things should be stones, or
stars, or beasts, or angels, or human bodies, or souls, or only some new motion or figure in
natural bodies, or some new sensations in animals, or new ideas in the human understanding,
or new volitions in the Will; or any thing else of all the infinite number of possibles; then
certainly it would not be expected, although many millions of millions of things were coming
into existence in this manner, all over the face of the earth, that they should all be only of
one particular kind, and that it should be thus in all ages, and that this sort of existences
should never fail to come to pass where there is room for them, or a subject capable of them,
and that constantly, whenever there is occasion.
If any should imagine, there is something in the sort of Event that renders it possible for it
to come into existence without a Cause, and should say, that the free acts of the Will are
existences of an exceeding different nature from other things; by reason of which they may
come into existence without any previous ground or reason of it, though other things cannot:
if they make this objection in good earnest, it would be an evidence of their strangely forgetting themselves; for they would be giving an account of some ground of the existence of a
thing, when at the same time they would maintain there is no ground of its existence.
Therefore I would observe, that the particular nature of existence, be it never so diverse
from others, can lay no foundation for that thing coming into existence without a Cause;
because to suppose this, would be to suppose the particular nature of existence to be a thing
prior to the existence, and so a thing which makes way for existence, without a cause or
reason of existence. But that which in any respect makes way for a thing coming into being,
or for any manner or circumstance of its first existence, must, be prior to the existence. The
distinguished nature of the effect, which is something belonging to the effect, cannot have
influence backward, to act before it is. The peculiar nature of that thing called Volition, can
do nothing, can have no influence, while it is not. And afterwards it is too late for its influence:
for then the thing has made sure of existence already, without its help.
So that it is indeed as repugnant to reason, to suppose that an act of the Will should come
into existence without a Cause, as to suppose the human soul, or an angel, or the globe of
the earth, or the whole universe, should come into existence without a Cause. And if once
we allow, that such a sort of effect as a Volition may come to pass without a Cause, how do
we know but that many other sorts of effects may do so too? It is not the particular kind of
effect that makes the absurdity of supposing it has being without a Cause, but something
which is common to all things that ever begin to be, viz. That they are not self-existent, or
necessary in the nature of things.
Section IV.
Whether Volition can arise without a Cause, through the activity of the nature of the
soul.
The author of the Essay on the Freedom of the Will in God and the Creatures, in answer to
that objection against his doctrine of a self-determining power in the will, (p. 68 – 69.) That
nothing is, or comes to pass, without a sufficient reason why it is, and why it is in this
manner rather than another, allows that it is thus in corporeal things, which are, properly
and philosophically speaking, passive being; but denies it is thus in spirits, which are beings
of an active nature, who have the spring of action within themselves, and can determine
themselves. By which it is plainly supposed, that such an event as an act of the Will, may
come to pass in a spirit, without a sufficient reason why it comes to pass, or why it is after
this manner, rather than another. But certainly this author, in this matter, must be very
unwary and inadvertent. For,
1. The objection or difficulty proposed by him seems to be forgotten in his answer or solution.
The very difficulty, as he himself proposes it, is this: How an event can come to pass without
a sufficient reason why it is, or why it is in this manner rather than another? Instead of
solving this difficulty, with regard to Volition, as he proposes, he forgets himself, and answers
another question quite diverse, viz. What is a sufficient reason why it is, and why it is in this
manner rather than another! And he assigns the active being's own determination as the
Cause, and a Cause sufficient for the effect; and leaves all the difficulty unresolved, even,
How the soul's own determination, which he speaks of, came to exist, and to be what it was,
without a Cause? The activity of the soul may enable it to be the Cause of effects; but it does
not at all enable it to be the subject of effects which have no Cause; which is the thing this
author supposes concerning acts of the Will. Activity of nature will no more enable a being
to produce effects, and determine the manner of their existence, within itself, without a
Cause, than out of itself, in some other being. But if an active being should, through its
activity, produce and determine an effect in some external object, how absurd would it be
to say, that the effect was produced without a Cause!
2. The question is not so much, How a spirit endowed with activity comes to act, as why it
exerts such an act, and not another; or why it acts with such a particular determination? If
activity of nature be the Cause why a spirit (the soul of man, for instance) acts, and does
not lie still; yet that alone is not the Cause why its action is thus and thus limited, directed,
and determined. Active nature is a general thing; it is an ability or tendency of nature to
action, generally taken; which may be a Cause why the soul acts as occasion or reason is
given; but this alone cannot be a sufficient Cause why the soul exerts such a particular act,
at such a time, rather than others. In order to this there must be something besides a general
tendency to action; there must also be a particular tendency to that individual action.- If
it should be asked, why the soul of man uses its activity, in such a manner as it does; and it
should be answered, that the soul uses its activity thus, rather than otherwise, because it has
activity; would such an answer satisfy a rational man? Would it not rather be looked upon
as a very impertinent one?
3. An active being can bring no effects to pass by his activity, but what are consequent upon
his acting: he produces nothing by his activity, any other way than by the exercise of his
activity, and so nothing but the fruits of its exercise: he brings nothing to pass by a dormant
activity. But the exercise of his activity is action; and so his action, or exercise of his activity,
must be prior to the effects of his activity. If an active being produces an effect in another
being, about which his activity is conversant, the effect being the fruit of his activity, his
activity must be first exercised or exerted, and the effect of it must follow. So it must be,
with equal reason, if the active being is his own object, and his activity is conversant about
himself, to produce and determine some effect in himself; still the exercise of his activity
must go before the effect, which he brings to pass and determines by it. And therefore his
activity cannot be the Cause of the determination of the first action, or exercise of activity
itself, whence the effects of activity arise; for that would imply a contradiction; it would be
to say, the first exercise of activity is before the first exercise of activity, and is the Cause of
it.
4. That the soul, though an active substance, cannot diversify its own acts, but by first acting;
or be a determining Cause of different acts, or any different effects, sometimes of one kind,
and sometimes of another, any other way than in consequence of its own diverse acts, is
manifest by this; that if so, then the same Cause, the same causal influence, without variation
in any respect, would produce different effects at different times. For the same substance of
the soul before it acts, and the same active nature of the soul before it is exerted, i. e. before
in the order of nature, would be the Cause of different effects, viz. different Volitions at
different times. But the substance of the soul before it acts, and its active nature before it is
exerted, are the same without variation. For it is some act that makes the first variation in
the Cause, as to any causal exertion, force, or influence. But if it be so, that the soul has no
different causality, or diverse causal influence, in producing these diverse effects; then it is
evident, that the soul has no influence in the diversity of the effect; and that the difference
of the effect cannot be owing to any thing in the soul; or which is the same thing, the soul
does not determine the diversity of the effect; which is contrary to the supposition.- It is
true, the substance of the soul before it acts, and before their is any difference in that respect,
may be in a different state and circumstances: but those whom I oppose, will not allow the
different circumstances of the soul to be the determining Causes of the acts of the will; as
being contrary to their notion of self-determination.
5. Let us suppose, as these divines do, that there are no acts of the soul, strictly speaking,
but free Volitions; then it will follow, that the soul is an active being in nothing further than
it is a voluntary or elective being; and when ever it produces effects actively, it produces effects
voluntarily and electively. But to produce effects thus, is the same thing as to produce effects
in consequence of, and according to its own choice. And if so, then surely the soul does not
by its activity produce all its own acts of will or choice themselves; for this, by the supposition,
is to produce all its free acts of choice voluntarily and electively or in consequence of its
own free acts of choice, which brings the matter directly to the aforementioned contradiction,
of a free act of choice before the first free act of choice.- According to these gentlemen's
own notion of action, if there arises in the mind a Volition without a free act of the Will to
produce it, the mind is not the voluntary Cause of that Volition; because it does not arise
from, nor is regulated by, choice or design. And therefore it cannot be, that the mind should
be the active, voluntary, determining Cause of the first and leading Volition that relates to
the affair.- The mind being a designing Cause, only enables it to produce effects in consequence
of its design; it will not enable it to be the designing Cause of all its own designs.
The mind being an elective Cause, will enable it to produce effects only in consequence of
its elections, and according to them; but cannot enable it to be the elective Cause of all its
own elections; because that supposes an election before the first election. So the mind being
an active Cause enables it to produce effects in consequence of its own acts, but cannot enable
it to be the determining Cause of all its own acts; for that is, in the same manner, a contradiction;
as it supposes a determining act conversant about the first act, and prior to it, having
a causal influence on its existence, and manner of existence.
I can conceive of nothing else that can be meant by the soul having power to cause and determine
its own Volitions, as a being to whom God has given a power of action, but this;
that God has given power to the soul, sometimes at least, to excite Volitions at its pleasure,
or according as it chooses. And this certainly supposes, in all such cases, a choice preceding
all Volitions which are thus caused, even the first of them. Which runs into the aforementioned
great absurdity.
Therefore the activity of the nature of the soul affords no relief from the difficulties with
which the notion of a self-determining power in the Will is attended, nor will it help, in the
least, its absurdities and inconsistencies.
Section V.
Showing, that if the things asserted in these evasions should be supposed to be true, they
are altogether impertinent, and cannot help the cause of Arminian Liberty; and how,
this being the state of the case, Arminian writers are obliged to talk inconsistently.
WHAT was last observed in the preceding section, may show- not only that the active
nature of the soul cannot be a reason why an act of the Will is, or why it is in this manner
rather than another, but also- that if it could be proved, that volitions are contingent events,
their being and manner of being not fixed or determined by any cause, or any thing antecedent;
it would not at all serve the purpose of Arminians, to establish their notion of freedom,
as consisting in the Will's determination of itself, which supposes every free act of the
Will to be determined by some act of the will going before; inasmuch as for the Will to determine
a thing, is the same as for the soul to determine a thing by willing; and there is no
way that the Will can determine an act of the Will, than by willing that act of the Will, or,
which is the same thing, choosing it. So that here must be two acts of the Will in the case,
one going before another, one conversant about the other, and the latter the object of the
former, and chosen by the former. If the Will does not cause and determine the act by choice,
it does not cause or determine it at all; for that which is not determined by choice, is not
determined voluntarily or willingly: and to say, that the Will determines something which
the soul does not determine willingly, is as much as to say, that something is done by the
will, which the soul doth not with its Will.
So that if Arminian liberty of will, consisting in the Will determining its own acts, be
maintained, the old absurdity and contradiction must be maintained, that every free act of
Will is caused and determined by a foregoing free act of will. Which doth not consist with
the free acts arising without any cause, and being so contingent, as not to be fixed by any
thing foregoing. So that this evasion must be given up, as not at all relieving this sort of
liberty, but directly destroying it.
And if it should be supposed, that the soul determines its own acts of Will some other way,
than by a foregoing act of Will; still it will help not their cause If it determines them by an
act of the understanding, or some other power, then the Will does not determine itself; and
so the self-determining power of the will is given up. And what liberty is there exercised,
according to their own opinion of liberty, by the soul being determined by something besides
its own choice? The acts of the Will, it is true, may be directed, and effectually determined
and fixed; but it is not done by the soul's own Will and pleasure: there is no exercise at all
of choice or Will in producing the effect: and if Will and choice are not exercised in it, how
is the liberty of the Will exercised in it?
So that let Arminians turn which way they please with their notion of liberty, consisting in
the Will determining its own acts, their notion destroys itself. If they hold every free act of
Will to be determined by the soul's own free choice, or foregoing free act of Will; foregoing,
either in the order of time, or nature; it implies that gross contradiction, that the first free
act belonging to the affair, is determined by a free act which is before it. Or if they say, that
the free acts of the Will are determined by some other act of the soul, and not an act of will
or choice; this also destroys their notion of liberty consisting in the acts of the Will being
determined by the will itself; or if they hold that the acts of the Will are determined by
nothing at all that is prior to them, but that they are contingent in that sense, that they are
determined and fixed by no cause at all; this also destroys their notion of liberty, consisting
in the Will determining its own acts.
This being the true state of the Arminian notion of liberty, the writers who defend it are
forced into gross inconsistencies, in what they say upon this subject. To instance in Dr.
Whitby; he, in his discourse on the freedom of the Will, opposes the opinion of the Calvinists,
who place man's liberty only in a power of doing what he will, as that wherein they plainly
agree with Mr. Hobbes. And yet he himself mentions the very same notion of liberty, as the
dictate of the sense and common reason of mankind, and a rule laid down by the light of
nature; viz. that liberty is a power of acting from ourselves, or DOING WHAT WE WILL.
This is indeed, as he says, a thing agreeable to the sense and common reason of mankind;
and therefore it is not so much to be wondered at, that he unawares acknowledges it against
himself: for if liberty does not consist in this, what else can be devised that it should consist
in? If it be said, as Dr. Whitby elsewhere insists, that it does not only consist in liberty of
doing what we will, but also a liberty of willing without necessity; still the question returns,
what does that liberty of willing without necessity consist in, but in a power of willing as we
please, without being impeded by a contrary necessity? or in other words, a liberty for the
soul in its willing to act according to its own choice? Yea, this very thing the same author
seems to allow, and suppose again and again, in the use he makes of sayings of the fathers,
whom he quotes as his vouchers. Thus he cites the words of Origen, which he produces as
a testimony on his side; "The soul acts by HER OWN CHOICE, and it is free for her to incline
to whatever part SHE WILL." And those of Justin Martyr; "The doctrine of the Christians
is this, that nothing is done or suffered according to fate, but that every man doth good or
evil ACCORDING TO HIS OWN FREE CHOICE. And from Eusebius, these words; "If
fate be established, philosophy and piety are overthrown.- All these things depending upon
the necessity introduced by the stars, aloud not upon meditation and exercise PROCEEDING
FROM OUR OWN FREE CHOICE. And again, the words of MACCARIUS; "God, to preserve
the liberty of man's Will, suffered their bodies to die, that it might be IN THEIR
CHOICE to turn to good or evil." - "They who are acted by the Holy Spirit, are not held
under any necessity, but have liberty to turn themselves, and DO WHAT THEY WILL in
this life."
Thus, the Doctor in effect comes into that very notion of liberty, which the Calvinists have;
which he at the same time condemns, as agreeing with the opinion of Mr. Hobbes, namely,
The soul acting by its own choice, men doing good or evil according to their own free choice,
their being in that exercise which proceeds from their own free choice, having it in their
choice to turn to good or evil, and doing what they will." So that if men exercise this liberty
in the acts of the will themselves, it must be in exerting acts of Will according to their own
free choice; or, exerting acts of will that proceed from their choice. And if it be so, then let
every one judge whether this does not suppose a free choice going before the free act of will,
or whether an act of choice does not go before that act of the will which proceeds from it.
And if it be thus with all free acts of the Will, then let every one judge, whether it will not
follow that there is a free choice going before the first free act of the Will exerted in the case!
And finally, let every one judge whether in the scheme of these writers there be any possibility
of avoiding these absurdities.
If liberty consists, as Dr. Whitby himself says, in a man's doing what he will; and a man exercises
this liberty, not only in external actions, but in the acts of the will themselves; then
so far as liberty is exercised in the latter, it consists in willing what he wills: and if any say
so, one of these two things must be meant, either, 1. That a man has power to will, as he
does will; because what he wills, he wills; and therefore power to will what he has power to
will. If this be their meaning, then all this mighty controversy about freedom of the Will
and self-determining power, comes wholly to nothing; all that is contended for being no
more than this, that the mind of man does what it does, and is the subject of what it is the
subject, or that what is, is; wherein none has any controversy with them. Or, 2. The meaning
must be, that a man has power to will as he chooses to will: that is, he has power by one act
of choice to choose another; by an antecedent act of Will to choose a consequent act: and
therein to execute his own choice. And if this be their meaning, it is nothing but shuffling
with those they dispute with, and baffling their own reason. For still the question returns,
wherein lies man's liberty in that antecedent act of will which chose the consequent act. The
answer according to the same principles must be, that his liberty in this also lies in his willing
as he would, or as he chose, or agreeable to another act of choice preceding that. And so the
question returns in infinitum, and the like answer must be made in infinitum: in order to
support their opinion, their must be no beginning, but free acts of Will must have been
chosen by foregoing free acts of will in the soul of every man, without beginning.
Section VI.
Concerning the Will determining in things which are perfectly indifferent in the view
of the mind.
A Great argument for self-determining power, is the supposed experience we universally
have of an ability to determine our Wills, in cases wherein no prevailing motive is presented:
the Will, as is supposed, has its choice to make between two or more things, that are perfectly
equal in the view of the mind; and the Will is apparently, altogether indifferent; and yet we
find no difficulty in coming to a choice; the Will can instantly determine itself to one, by a
sovereign power which it has over itself, without being moved by any preponderating inducement.
Thus the fore-mentioned author of an Essay on the Freedom of the will, &c. (p. 25, 26, 27.)
supposes, "That there are many instances, wherein the will is determined neither by present
uneasiness, nor by the greatest apparent good, nor by the last dictate of the understanding,
nor by any thing else, but merely by itself, as a sovereign self-determining power of the soul;
and that the soul does not will this or that action, in some cases, by any other influence but
because it will. Thus, says he, I can turn my face to the south, or the north; I can point with
my finger upward, or downward.- And thus, in some cases, the will determines itself in a
very sovereign manner, because it will, without a reason borrowed from the understanding:
and hereby it discovers its own perfect power of choice, rising from within itself, and free
from all influence or restraint of any kind." And (p. 66, 70, 73, 74.) this author very expressly
supposes the will in many cases to be determined by no motive at all, and acts altogether
without motive, or ground of preference.- Here I would observe:
1. The very supposition which is here made, directly contradicts and overthrows itself. For
the thing supposed, wherein this grand argument consists, is, that among several things the
Will actually chooses one before another, at the same time that it is perfectly indifferent;
which is the very same thing as to say, the mind has a preference, at the same time that it
has no preference. What is meant cannot be, that the mind is indifferent before it comes to
have a choice, or until it has a preference; for certainly this author did not imagine he had
a controversy with any person in supposing this. Besides, it appears in fact, that the thing
which he supposes, is - not that the Will chooses one thing before another, concerning
which it is indifferent before it chooses, but that the Will is indifferent when it chooses; and
that it being otherwise than indifferent is not until afterwards, in consequence of its choice;
that the chosen thing appearing preferable, and more agreeable than another, arises from
its choice already made. His words are, (p. 30.) "Where the objects which are proposed appear
equally fit or good, the will is left without a guide or director; and therefore must take its
own choice, by its own determination; it being properly a self-determining power. And in
such cases the Will does as it were make a good to itself by its own choice, i. e. creates its
own pleasure or delight in this self-chosen good. Even as a man by seizing upon a spot of
unoccupied land, in an uninhabited country, makes it his own possession and property,
and as such rejoices in it. Where things were indifferent before, the Will finds nothing to
make them more agreeable, considered merely in themselves, but the pleasure it feels arising
from its own choice, and its perseverance therein. We love many things which we have
chosen, and purely because we chose them."
This is as much as to say, that we first begin to prefer many things, purely because we have
preferred and chosen them before.- These things must needs be spoken inconsiderately
by this author. Choice or preference cannot be before itself in the same instance, either in
the order of time or nature: It cannot be the foundation of itself, or the consequence of itself.
The very act of choosing one thing rather than another, is preferring that thing, and that is
setting a higher value on that thing. But that the mind sets a higher value on one thing than
another, is not, in the first place, the fruit of its setting a higher value on that thing.
This author says, (p. 36.) "The Will may be perfectly indifferent, and yet the Will may determine
itself to choose one or the other." And again, in the same page, "I am entirely indifferent
to either; and yet my Will may determine itself to choose." And again, "Which I shall
choose must be determined by the mere act of my will." If the choice is determined by a
mere act of Will, then the choice is determined by a mere act of choice. And concerning
this matter, viz. That the act of the Will itself is determined by act of choice, this writer is
express. (p. 72.) Speaking of the case, where there is no superior fitness in objects presented,
he has these words: "There it must act by its own choice, and determine itself as it PLEASES."
Where it is supposed that the very determination, which is the ground and spring of the
will's act, is an act of choice and pleasure, wherein one act is more agreeable than another:
and this preference and superior pleasure is the ground of all it does in the case. And if so,
the mind is not indifferent when it determines itself, but had rather determine itself one
way than another. And therefore the Will does not act at all in indifference; not so much as
in the first step it takes. If it be possible for the understanding to act in indifference, yet
surely the will never does; because the will beginning to act is the very same thing as it beginning
to choose or prefer. And if in the very first act of the Will, the mind prefers something,
then the idea of that thing preferred, does at that time preponderate, or prevail in the
mind: or, which is the same thing, the idea of it has a prevailing influence on the Will. So
that this wholly destroys the thing supposed, viz. That the mind can by a sovereign power
choose one of two or more things, which in the view of the mind are, in every respect, perfectly
equal, one of which does not at all preponderate, nor has any prevailing influence on
the mind above another.
So that this author, in his grand argument for the ability of the Will to choose one of two
or more things, concerning which it is perfectly indifferent, does at the same time, in effect,
deny the thing he supposes, even that the Will, in choosing, is subject to no prevailing influence
of the view of the thing chosen. And indeed it is impossible to offer this argument
without overthrowing it; the thing supposed in it being that which denies itself. To suppose
the Will to act at all in a state of perfect indifference, is to assert that the mind chooses
without choosing. To say that when it is indifferent, it can do as it pleases, is to say that it
can follow its pleasure, when it has no pleasure to follow. And therefore if there be any difficulty
in the instances of two cakes, or two eggs, &c. which are exactly alike, one as good
as another; concerning which this author supposes the mind in fact has a choice, and so in
effect supposes that it has a preference; it as much concerned himself to solve the difficulty,
as it does those whom he opposes. For if these instances prove any thing to his purpose,
they prove that a man chooses without choice. And yet this is not to his purpose; because
if this is what he asserts, his own words are as much against him, and does as much contradict
him, as the words of those he disputes against can do.
2. There is no great difficulty in showing, in such instances as are alleged, not only that it
must needs be so, that the mind must be influenced in its choice by something that has a
preponderating influence upon it, but also how it is so. A little attention to our own experience,
and a distinct consideration of the acts of our own minds, in such cases, will be sufficient
to clear up the matter.
Thus, supposing I have a chess-board before me; and because I am required by a superior,
or desired by a friend, or on some other consideration, I am determined to touch some one
of the spots or squares on the board with my finger. Not being limited or directed, in the
first proposal, to any one in particular; and there being nothing in the squares, in themselves
considered, that recommends any one of all the sixty-four, more than another; in this case,
my mind determines to give itself up to what is vulgularly called accident, by determining
to touch that square which happens to be most in view, which my eye is especially upon at
that moment, or which happens to be then most in my mind, or which I shall be directed
to by some other such like accident. Here are several steps of the mind proceeding (though
all may be done, as it were, in a moment). The first step is its general determination that it
will touch one of the squares. The next step is another general determination to give itself
up to accident, in some certain way; as to touch that which shall be most in the eye or mind
at that time, or to some other such like accident. The third and last step is a particular determination
to touch a certain individual spot, even that square, which, by that sort of accident
the mind has pitched upon, has actually offered itself beyond others. Now it is apparent
that in none of these several steps does the mind proceed in absolute indifference, but in
each of them is influenced by a preponderating inducement. So it is in the first step, the
mind's general determination to touch one of the sixty-four spots: the mind is not absolutely
indifferent whether it does so or no; it is induced to it, for the sake of making some experiment,
or by the desire of a friend, or some other motive that prevails. So it is in the second
step, the mind determining to give itself up to accident, by touching that which shall be
most in the eye, or the idea of which shall be most prevalent in the mind, &c. The mind is
not absolutely indifferent whether it proceeds by this rule or no; but chooses it, because it
appears at that time a convenient and requisite expedient in order to fulfil the general purpose.
And so it is in the third and last step, which is determining to touch that individual
spot which actually does prevail in the mind's view. The mind is not indifferent concerning
this; but is influenced by a prevailing inducement and reason; which is, that this is a prosecution
of the preceding determination, which appeared requisite, and was fixed before in the
second step.
Accident will ever serve a man, without hindering him a moment, in such a case. Among a
number of objects in view, one will prevail in the eye, or in idea, beyond others. When we
have our eyes open in the clear sunshine, many objects strike the eye at once, and innumerable
images may be at once painted in it by the rays of light; but the attention of the mind is not
equal to several of them at once; or if it be, it does not continue so for any time. And so it
is with respect to the ideas of the mind in general: several ideas are not in equal strength in
the mind's view and notice at once; or at least, does not remain so for any sensible continuance.
There is nothing in the world more constantly varying, than the ideas of the mind;
they do not remain precisely in the same state for the least perceivable space of time; as is
evident by this: - That all time is perceived by the mind, only by the successive changes of
its own ideas. Therefore while the perceptions of the mind remain precisely in the same
state, there is no perceivable length of time, because no sensible succession at all.
As the acts of the Will, in each step of the aforementioned procedure, do not come to pass
without a particular cause, but every act is owing to a prevailing inducement; so the accident,
as I have called it, or that which happens in the unsearchable course of things, to which the
mind yields itself, and by which it is guided, is not any thing that comes to pass without a
cause. The mind in determining to be guided by it, is not determined by something that has
no cause; any more than if it be determined to be guided by a lot, or the casting of a die. For
though the die falling in such a manner be accidental to him that casts it, yet none will
suppose that there is no cause why it falls as it does. The involuntary changes in the succession
of our ideas, though the cause may not be observed, have as much a cause, as the changeable
motions of the motes that float in the air, or the continual, infinitely various, successive
changes of the unevennesses on the surface of the water.
There are two things especially, which are probably the occasions of confusion in the minds
of them who insist upon it, that the Will acts in a proper indifference, and without being
moved by any inducement, in its determinations in such cases as have been mentioned.
1. They seem to mistake the point in question, or at least not to keep it distinctly in view.
The question they dispute about, is, Whether the mind be indifferent about the objects
presented, one of which is to be taken, touched, pointed to, &c. as two eggs, two cakes, which
appear equally good. Whereas the question to be considered, is, Whether the person be indifferent
with respect to his own actions; whether he does not, on some consideration or
other, prefer one act with respect to these objects before another. The mind in its determination
and choice, in these cases, is not most immediately and directly conversant about the
objects presented; but the acts to be done concerning these objects. The objects may appear
equal, and the mind may never properly make any choice between them; but the next act
of the Will being about the external actions to be performed, taking, touching, &c. these
may not appear equal, and one action may properly be chosen before another. In each step
of the mind's progress, the determination is not about the objects, unless indirectly and
improperly, but about the actions, which it chooses for other reasons than any preference
of the objects, and for reasons not taken at all from the objects.
There is no necessity of supposing, that the mind does ever at all properly choose one of the
objects before another: either before it has taken, or afterwards. Indeed the man chooses to
take or touch one rather than another; but not because it chooses the thing taken, or touched,
but from foreign considerations. The case may be so, that of two things offered, a man may,
for certain reasons, prefer taking that which he undervalues, and choose to neglect that
which his mind prefers. In such a case, choosing the thing taken, and choosing to take, are
diverse: and so they are in a case where the things presented are equal in the mind's esteem,
and neither of them preferred. All that fact and experience makes evident, is, that the mind
chooses one action rather than another. And therefore the arguments which they bring, in
order to be to their purpose, should be to prove that the mind chooses the action in perfect
indifference, with respect to that action; and not to prove that the mind chooses the action
in perfect indifference with respect to the object; which is very possible, and yet the Will
not act at all without prevalent inducement, and proper preponderation.
2. Another reason of confusion and difficulty in this matter, seems to be, not distinguishing
between a general indifference, or an indifference with respect to what is to be done in a
more distant and general view of it, and a particular indifference, or an indifference with
respect to the next immediate act, viewed with its particular and present circumstances. A
man may be perfectly indifferent with respect to his own actions, in the former respect; and
yet not in the latter. Thus in the foregoing instance of touching one of the squares of a chess-
board; when it is first proposed that I should touch one of them, I may be perfectly indifferent
which I touch; because as yet I view the matter remotely and generally, being but in the first
step of the mind's progress in the affair. But yet, when I am actually come to the last step,
and the very next thing to be determined is which, is to be touched, having already determined
that I will touch that which happens to be most in my eye or mind, and my mind being
now fixed on a particular one, the act of touching that, considered thus immediately, and
in these particular present circumstances, is not what my mind is absolutely indifferent
about.
Section VII.
Concerning the Notion of Liberty of Will, Consisting in Indifference.
What has been said in the foregone section, has a tendency in some measure to evince the
absurdity of the opinion of such as place Liberty in Indifference, or in that equilibrium
whereby the will is without all antecedent bias; that the determination of the Will to either
side may be entirely from itself, and that it may be owing only to its own power, and the
sovereignty which it has over itself, that it goes this way rather than that.
But inasmuch as this has been of such long standing, and has been so generally received,
and so much insisted on by Pelagians, Semi-Pelagians, Jesuits, Socinians, Arminians, and
others, it may deserve a more full consideration. And therefore I shall now proceed to a
more particular and thorough inquiry into this notion.
Now lest some should suppose that I do not understand those that place Liberty in Indifference,
or should charge me with misrepresenting their opinion, I would signify, that I am
sensible, there are some, who, when they talk of Liberty of the Will as consisting in Indifference,
express themselves as though they would not be understood to mean the Indifference
of the inclination or tendency of the Will, but an Indifference of the soul's power, of willing;
or that the will, with respect to its power or ability to choose, is indifferent, can go either
way indifferently, either to the right hand or left, either act or forbear to act, one as well as
the other. This indeed seems to be a refining of some particular writers only, and newly invented,
which will by no means consist with the manner of expression used by the defenders
of Liberty of Indifference in general. I wish such refiners would thoroughly consider,
whether they distinctly know their own meaning, when they make a distinction between an
Indifference of the soul as to its power or ability of choosing, and the soul's Indifference as
to the preference or choice itself; and whether they do not deceive themselves in imagining
that they have any distinct meaning at all. The Indifference of the soul as to its ability or
power to will, must be the same thing as the Indifference of the state of the power or faculty
of the will, or the indifference of the state which the soul itself, which has that power or
faculty, hitherto remains in, as to the exercise of that power, in the choice it shall by and by
make.
But not to insist any longer on the inexplicable abstruseness of this distinction; let what will
be supposed concerning the meaning of them that use it, this much must at least be intended
by Arminians when they talk of Indifference as essential to Liberty of Will, if they intend
any thing, in any respect to their purpose, viz. That it is such an Indifference as leaves the
will not determined already; but free from actual possession, and vacant of predetermination,
so far, that there may be room for the exercise of the self-determining power of the Will;
and that the Will's freedom consists in, or depends upon, this vacancy and opportunity that
is left for the will itself to be the determiner of the act that is to be the free act.
And here I would observe in the first place, that to make out this scheme of Liberty, the Indifference
must be perfect and absolute; there must be a perfect freedom from all antecedent
preponderation or inclination. Because if the Will be already inclined, before it exerts its
own sovereign power on itself, then its inclination is not wholly owing to itself: if when two
opposites are proposed to the soul for its choice, the proposal does not find the soul wholly
in a state of Indifference, then it is not found in a state of Liberty for mere self-determination.-
The least degree of an antecedent bias must be inconsistent with their notion of
liberty. For so long as prior inclination possesses the will, and is not removed, the former
binds the latter, so that it is utterly impossible that the Will should act otherwise than
agreeably to it. Surely the Will cannot act or choose contrary to a remaining prevailing inclination
of the Will. To suppose otherwise, would be the same thing as to suppose that the
Will is inclined contrary to its present prevailing inclination, or contrary to what it is inclined
to. That which the will prefers, to that, all things considered, it preponderates and inclines.
It is equally impossible for the Will to choose contrary to its own remaining and present
preponderating inclination, as it is to prefer contrary to its own present preference, or choose
contrary to its own present choice. The Will, therefore, so long as it is under the influence
of an old preponderating inclination, is not at Liberty for a new free act; or any, that shall
now be an act of self-determination. That which is a self-determined free act, must be one
which the will determines in the possession and use of a peculiar sort of liberty; such as
consists in a freedom from every thing, which, if it were there, would make it impossible
that the Will, at that time, should be otherwise than that way to which it tends.
If any one should say, there is no need that the Indifference should be perfect; but although
a former inclination still remains, yet, if it be not very strong, possibly the strength of the
Will may oppose and overcome it:- This is grossly absurd; for the strength of the will, let
it be never so great, gives it no such sovereignty and command, as to cause itself to prefer
and not to prefer at the same time, or to choose contrary to its own present choice.
Therefore, if there be the least degree of antecedent preponderation of the Will, it must be
perfectly abolished, before the Will can be at liberty to determine itself the contrary way.
And if the Will determines itself the same way, it was not a free determination, because the
Will is not wholly at liberty in so doing; its determination is not altogether from itself, but
it was partly determined before, in its prior inclination: and all the freedom the will exercises
in the case, is in an increase of inclination, which it gives itself, added to what it had by a
foregoing bias; so much is from itself, and so much is from perfect indifference. For though
the Will had a previous tendency that way, yet as to that additional degree of inclination, it
had no tendency. Therefore the previous tendency is of no consideration, with respect to
the act wherein the will is free. So that it comes to the same thing which was said at first,
that as to the act of the will, wherein the will is free, there must be perfect indifference, or
equilibrium.
To illustrate this: suppose a sovereign self-moving power in a natural body; but that the
body is in motion already, by an antecedent bias; for instance, gravitation towards the centre
of the earth; and has one degree of motion by virtue of that previous tendency; but by its
self-moving power it adds one degree more to its motion, and moves so much more swiftly
towards the centre of the earth than it would do by its gravity only: it is evident, all that is
owing to a self-moving power in this case, is the additional degree of motion; and that the
other degree which it had from gravity, is of no consideration in the case; the effect is just
the same, as if the body had received from itself one degree of motion from a state of perfect
rest. So, if we suppose a self-moving power given to the scale of a balance, which has a weight
of one degree beyond the opposite scale; and if we ascribe to it an ability to add to itself another
degree of force the same way, by its self-moving power; this is just the same thing as
to ascribe to it a power to give itself one degree of preponderation from a perfect equilibrium;
and so much power as the scale has to give itself an over-balance from a perfect equipoise,
so much self-moving self-preponderating power it has, and no more. So that its free power
this way is always to be measured from perfect equilibrium.
I need say no more to prove, that if Indifference be essential to liberty, it must be perfect
Indifference; and that so far as the will is destitute of this, so far is it destitute of that freedom
by which it is in a capacity of being its own determiner, without being at all passive, or
subject to the power and sway of something else, in its motions and determinations.
Having observed these things, let us now try whether this notion of the Liberty of Will
consisting in Indifference and equilibrium, and the Will's self-determination in such a state,
be not absurd and inconsistent.
And here I would lay down this as an axiom of undoubted truth; that every free act is done
IN a slate of freedom, and not only after such a state, If an act of the Will be an act wherein
the soul is free, it must be exerted in a stale of freedom, and in the time of freedom. It will
not suffice, that the act immediately follows a state of liberty; but Liberty must yet continue,
and co-exist with the act; the soul remaining in possession of Liberty. Because that is the
notion of a free act of the soul, even an act wherein the soul uses or exercises Liberty. But
if the soul is not, in the very time of the act, in possession of Liberty, it cannot at that time
be in the use of it.
Now the question is, whether ever the soul of man puts forth an act of Will, while it yet remains
in a state of Liberty, viz. as implying a state of Indifference; or whether the soul ever
exerts an act of preference, while at that very time the Will is in a perfect equilibrium, not
inclining one way more than another. The very putting of the question is sufficient to show
the absurdity of the affirmative answer: for how ridiculous would it be for any body to insist,
that the soul chooses one thing before another, when at the very same instant it is perfectly
indifferent with respect to each! This is the same thing as to say, the soul prefers one thing
to another, at the very same time that it has no preference.- Choice and preference can no
more be in a state of Indifference, than motion can be in a state of rest, or than the preponderation
of the scale of a balance can be in a state of equilibrium. Motion may be the next
moment after rest; but cannot co-exist with it, in any, even the least, part of it. So choice
may be immediately after a state of Indifference, but cannot co-exist with it: even the very
beginning of it is not in a state of Indifference. And therefore, if this be Liberty, no act of
the Will, in any degree, is ever performed in a state of Liberty, or in the time of Liberty.
Volition and Liberty are so far from agreeing together, and being essential one to another,
that they are contrary one to another, and one excludes and destroys the other, as much as
motion and rest, light and darkness, or life and death. So that the Will acts not at all, does
not so much as begin to act, in the time of such Liberty: freedom has ceased to be, at the
first moment of action; and therefore Liberty cannot reach the action, to affect, or qualify
it, or give it a denomination, any more than if it had ceased to be twenty years before the
action began. The moment that Liberty ceases to be, it ceases to be a qualification of any
thing. If light and darkness succeed one another instantaneously, light qualifies nothing
after it is gone out, to make any thing lightsome or bright, at the first moment of perfect
darkness, any more than months or years after. Life denominates nothing vital, at the first
moment of perfect death. So freedom, if it consists in or implies Indifference, can denominate
nothing free, at the first moment of preference or preponderation. Therefore it is manifest,
that no Liberty which the soul is possessed of , or ever uses, in any of its acts of volition,
consists in Indifference; and that the opinion of such as suppose, that Indifference belongs
to the very essence of Liberty, is to the highest degree absurd and contradictory.
If any one should imagine, that this manner of arguing is nothing but a trick and delusion;
and to evade the reasoning, should say, that the thing wherein the Will exercises its Liberty,
is not in the act of choice or preponderation itself, but in determining itself to a certain
choice or preference; that the act of the Will wherein it is free, and uses its own sovereignty,
consists in its causing or determining the change or transition from a state of indifference
to a certain preference or determining to give a certain turn to the balance, which has hitherto
been even; and that the Will exerts this act in a state of Liberty, or while the Will yet remains
in equilibrium, and perfect master of itself.- I say, if any one chooses to express his notion
of Liberty after this, or some such manner, let us see if he can succeed any better than before.
What is asserted is, that the Will, while it yet remains in perfect equilibrium, without preference,
determines to change itself from that state, and excite in itself a certain choice or
preference. Now let us see whether this does not come to the same absurdity we had before.
If it be so that the Will, while it yet remains perfectly indifferent, determines to put itself
out of that state, and to give itself a certain preponderation; then I would inquire, whether
the soul does not determine this of choice; or whether the Will coming to a determination
to do so, be not the same thing as the soul coming to a choice to do so. If the soul does not
determine this of choice, or in the exercise of choice, then it does not determine it voluntarily.
And if the soul does not determine it voluntarily, or of its own will, then in what sense does
its Will determine it? And if the Will does not determine it, then how is the Liberty of the
Will exercised in the determination? What sort of Liberty is exercised by the soul in those
determinations, wherein there is no exercise of choice, which are not voluntary, and wherein
the Will is not concerned? But if it be allowed, that this determination is an act of choice,
and it be insisted on, that the soul, while it yet remains in a state of perfect Indifference,
chooses to put itself out of that state, and to turn itself one way; then the soul is already
come to a choice; and chooses that way. And so we have the very same absurdity which we
had before. Here is the soul in a state of choice, and in a state of equilibrium, both at the
same time: the soul already choosing one way, while it remains in a state of perfect Indifference,
and has no choice of one way more than the other.- And indeed this manner of
talking, though it may a little hide the absurdity, in the obscurity of expression, increases
the inconsistence. To say, the free act of the Will, or the act which the will exerts in a state
of freedom and Indifference, does not imply preference in it, but is what the will does in
order to cause or produce a preference, is as much as to say, the soul chooses (for to will
and to choose are the same thing) without choice, and prefers without preference, in order
to cause or produce the beginning of a preference, or the first choice. And that is, that the
first choice is exerted without choice, in order to produce itself!
If any, to evade these things, should own, that a state of liberty and a state of Indifference
are not the same, and that the former may be without the latter; but should say, that Indifference
is still essential to freedom, as it is necessary to go immediately before it; it being
essential to the freedom of an act of Will that it should directly and immediately arise out
of a state of Indifference; still this will not help the cause of Arminian Liberty, or make it
consistent with itself. For if the act springs immediately out of a state of Indifference, then
it does not arise from antecedent choice or preference. But if the act arises directly out of a
state of Indifference, without any intervening choice to determine it, then the act not being
determined by choice, is not determined by the will; the mind exercises no free choice in
the affair, and free choice and free will have no hand in the determination of the act. Which
is entirely inconsistent with their notion of the freedom of volition.
If any should suppose, that these absurdities may be avoided, by saying, that the Liberty of
the mind consists in a power to suspend the act of the will, and so to keep it in a state of
Indifference, until there has been opportunity for consideration; and so shall say, that
however Indifference is not essential to Liberty in such a manner, that the mind must make
its choice in a state of Indifference, which is an inconsistency, or that the act of will must
spring immediately out of Indifference; yet Indifference may be essential to the Liberty of
acts of the Will in this respect; viz, That Liberty consists in a power of the mind to forbear
or suspend the act of volition, and keep the mind in a state of Indifference for the present,
until there has been opportunity for proper deliberation: I say, if any one imagines that this
helps the matter, it is a great mistake: it reconciles no inconsistency, and relieves no difficulty.-
For here the following things must be observed:
1. That this suspending of volition, if there be properly any such thing, is itself an act of
volition. If the mind determines to suspend its act, it determines it voluntarily; it chooses,
on some consideration, to suspend it. And this choice or determination, is an act of the Will:
And indeed it is supposed to be so in the very hypothesis; for it is supposed that the Liberty
of the Will consists in its power to do this, and that its doing it is the very thing wherein the
Will exercises its Liberty. But how can the Will exercise Liberty in it, if it be not an act of
the Will? The Liberty of the Will is not exercised in any thing but what the Will does.
2. This determining to suspend acting is not only an act of the will, but it is supposed to be
the only free act of the Will; because it is said, that this is the thing wherein the Liberty of
the Will consists.- If so, then this is all the act of Will that we have to consider in this
controversy. And now, the former question returns upon us; viz. Wherein consists the
freedom of the will in those acts wherein it is free? And if this act of determining a suspension
be the only act in which the Will is free, then wherein consists the Will's freedom with respect
to this act of suspension? And how is Indifference essential to this act? The answer must be,
according to what is supposed in the evasion under consideration, that the liberty of the
Will in this act of suspension, consists in a power to suspend even this act, until there has
been opportunity for thorough deliberation. But this will be to plunge directly into the
grossest nonsense: for it is the act of suspension itself that we are speaking of; and there is
no room for a space of deliberation and suspension in order to determine whether we will
suspend or no. For that supposes, that even suspension itself may be deferred: which is absurd;
for the very deferring the determination of suspension, to consider whether we will
suspend or no, will be actually suspending. For during the space of suspension, to consider
whether to suspend, the act is, ipso facto, suspended. There is no medium between suspending
to act, and immediately acting; and therefore no possibility of avoiding either the one or
the other one moment.
And besides, this is attended with ridiculous absurdity another way: for now, it seems,
Liberty consists wholly in the mind having power to suspend its determination whether to
suspend or no; that there may be time for consideration, whether it be best to suspend. And
if Liberty consists in this only, then this is the Liberty under consideration. We have to inquire
now, how Liberty, with respect to this act of suspending a determination of suspension,
consists in Indifference, or how Indifference is essential to it. The answer, according to the
hypothesis we are upon, must be, that it consists in a power of suspending even this lastmentioned
act, to have time to consider whether to suspend that. And then the same difficulties
and inquiries return over again with respect to that; and so on for ever. Which, if it
would show any thing, would show only that there is no such thing as a free act. It drives
the exercise of freedom back in infinitum; and that is to drive it out of the world.
And besides all this, there is a delusion, and a latent gross contradiction in the affair another
way; inasmuch as in explaining how, or in what respect, the Will is free, with regard to a
particular act of volition, it is said, that its Liberty consists in a power to determine to suspend
that act, which places Liberty not in that act of volition which the inquiry is about, but altogether
in another antecedent act. Which contradicts the thing supposed in both the question
and answer. The question is, wherein consists the mind's liberty in any particular act of
volition? And the answer, in pretending to show wherein lies the mind's Liberty in that act,
in effect says, it does not lie in that act at all, but in another, viz. a volition to suspend that
act. And therefore the answer is both contradictory, and altogether impertinent and beside
the purpose. For it does not show wherein the Liberty of the Will consists in the act in
question; instead of that, it supposes it does not consist in that act at all, but in another distinct
from it, even a volition to suspend that act, and take time to consider of it. And no account
is pretended to be given wherein the mind is free with respect to that act, wherein this answer
supposes the Liberty of the mind indeed consists, viz. the act of suspension, or of determining
the suspension.
On the whole, it is exceeding manifest, that the Liberty of the mind does not consist in Indifference,
and that Indifference is not essential or necessary to it, or at all belonging to it,
as the Arminians suppose; that opinion being full of nothing but self-contradiction.
Section VIII.
Concerning the supposed Liberty of the will, as opposite to all Necessity.
IT is chiefly insisted on by Arminians, in this controversy, as a thing most important and
essential in human Liberty, that volitions, or the acts of the will, are contingent events; understanding
contingence as opposite, not only to constraint, but to all Necessity. Therefore
I would particularly consider this matter.
And, first, I would inquire, whether there is or can be any such thing, as a volition which is
contingent in such a sense, as not only to come to pass without any Necessity of constraint
or co-action, but also without a Necessity of consequence, or an infallible connexion with
any thing foregoing.- Secondly, Whether, if it were so, this would at all help the cause of
Liberty.
I. I would consider whether volition is a thing that ever does or can come to pass, in this
manner, contingently.
And here it must be remembered, that it has been already shown, that nothing can ever
come to pass without a cause, or a reason, why it exists in this manner rather than another;
and the evidence of this has been particularly applied to the acts of the will. Now if this be
so, it will demonstrably follow, that the acts of the will are never contingent, or without necessity,
in the sense spoken of; inasmuch as those things which have a cause, or a reason of
their existence, must be connected with their cause. This appears by the following considerations.
1. For an event to have a cause and ground of its existence, and yet not to be connected with
its cause, is an inconsistence. For if the event be not connected with the cause, it is not dependent
on the cause; its existence is as it were loose from its influence, and may attend it,
or may not; it being a mere contingence, whether it follows or attends the influence of the
cause, or not: And that is the same thing as not to he dependent on it. And to say, the event
is not dependent on its cause, is absurd; it is the same thing as to say, it is not its cause, nor
the event the effect of it; for dependence on the influence of a cause is the very notion of an
effect. If there be no such relation between one thing and another, consisting in the connexion
and dependence of one thing an the influence of another, then it is certain there is no such
relation between them as is signified by the terms cause and effect. So far as an event is dependent
on a cause, and connected with it, so much causality is there in the case, and no
more. The cause does, or brings to pass, no more in any event, than is dependent on it. If
we say, the connexion and dependence is not total, but partial, and that the effect, though
it has some connexion and dependence, yet is not entirely dependent on it; that is the same
thing as to say, that not all that is in the event is an effect of that cause, but that only part of
it arises from thence, and part some other way.
2. If there are some events which are not necessarily connected with their causes, then it
will follow, that there are some things which come to pass without any cause, contrary to
the supposition. For if there be any event which was not necessarily connected with the influence
of the cause under such circumstances, then it was contingent whether it would attend
or follow the influence of the cause, or no; it might have followed, and it might not, when
the cause was the same, its influence the same, and under the same circumstances. And if
so, why did it follow, rather than not follow? Of this there is no cause or reason. Therefore
here is something without any cause or reason why it is, viz. the following of the effect on
the influence of the cause, with which it was not necessarily connected. If there be no necessary
connexion of the effect on any thing antecedent, then we may suppose that sometimes
the event will follow the cause, and sometimes not, when the cause is the same, and in every
respect in the same state and circumstances. And what can be the cause and reason of this
strange phenomenon, even this diversity, that in one instance, the effect should follow, in
another not? It is evident by the supposition, that this is wholly without any cause or ground.
Here is something in the present manner of the existence of things, and state of the world,
that is absolutely without a cause. Which is contrary to the supposition, and contrary to
what has been before demonstrated.
3. To suppose there are some events which have a cause and ground of their existence, that
yet are not necessarily connected with their cause, is to suppose that they have a cause which
is not their cause. Thus; if the effect be not necessarily connected with the cause, with its
influence, and influential circumstances; then, as I observed before, it is a thing possible and
supposable, that the cause may sometimes exert the same influence, under the same circumstances,
and yet the effect not follow. And if this actually happens in any instance, this instance
is a proof, in fact, that the influence of the cause is not sufficient to produce the effect.
For if it had been sufficient, it would have done it. And yet, by the supposition, in another
instance, the same cause, with perfectly the same influence, and when all circumstances
which have any influence are the same, it was followed with the effect. By which it is manifest,
that the effect in this last instance was not owing to the influence of the cause, but must
come to pass some other way. For it was proved before, that the influence of the cause was
not sufficient to produce the effect. And if it was not sufficient to produce it, then the production
of it could not be owing to that influence, but must be owing to something else, or
owing to nothing. And if the effect be not owing to the influence of the cause, then it is not
the cause. Which brings us to the contradiction of a cause, and no cause, that which is the
ground and reason of the existence of a thing, and at the same time is NOT the ground and
reason of its existence.
If the matter be not already so plain as to render any further reasoning upon it impertinent,
I would say, that which seems to be the cause in the supposed case, can be no cause; its
power and influence having, on a full trial, proved insufficient to produce such an effect:
and if it be not sufficient to produce it, then it does not produce it. To say otherwise, is to
say, there is power to do that which there is not power to do. If there be in a cause sufficient
power exerted, and in circumstances sufficient to produce an effect, and so the effect be actually
produced at one time; all these things concurring, will produce the effect at all times.
And so we may turn it the other way; that which proves not sufficient at one time, cannot
be sufficient at another, with precisely the same influential circumstances. And therefore if
the effect follows, it is not owing to that cause; unless the different time be a circumstance
which has influence: but that is contrary to the supposition; for it is supposed that all circumstances
that have influence, are the same. And besides, this would be to suppose the
time to be the cause; which is contrary to the supposition of the other thing being the cause.
But if merely diversity of time has no influence, then it is evident that it is as much of an
absurdity to say, the cause was sufficient to produce the effect at one time, and not at another;
as to say, that it is sufficient to produce the effect at a certain time, and yet not sufficient to
produce the same effect at the same time.
On the whole, it is clearly manifest, that every effect has a necessary connexion with its
cause, or with that which is the true ground and reason of its existence. And therefore, if
there be no event without a cause, as was proved before, then no event whatsoever is contingent,
in the manner that Arminians suppose the free acts of the will to be contingent.
Section IX.
Of the Connexion of the Acts of the Will with the Dictates of the Understanding.
IT is manifest, that no Acts of the Will are contingent, in such a sense as to be without all
necessity, or so as not to be necessary with a necessity of consequence and Connexion; because
every Act of the Will is some way connected with the Understanding, and is as the
greatest apparent good is, in the manner which has already been explained; namely, that
the soul always wills or chooses that which, in the present view of the mind, considered in
the whole of that view, and all that belongs to it, appears most agreeable. Because, as was
observed before, nothing is more evident than that, when men act voluntarily, and do what
they please, then they do what appears most agreeable to them; and to say otherwise, would
be as much as to affirm, that men do not choose what appears to suit them best, or what
seems most pleasing to them; or that they do not choose what they prefer. Which brings
the matter to a contradiction.
And as it is very evident in itself, that the Acts of the will have some connexion with the
dictates or views of the understanding, so this is allowed by some of the chief of the
Arminian writers; particularly by Dr. Whitby and Dr. Samuel Clark. Dr. Turnbull, though
a great enemy to the doctrine of necessity, allows the same thing. In his Christian Philosophy,
(p. 196.) he with much approbation cites another philosopher, as of the same mind, in these
words: "No man (says an excellent philosopher) sets himself about any thing, but upon
some view or other, which serves him for a reason for what he does; and whatsoever faculties
he employs, the Understanding, with such light as it has, well or ill formed, constantly leads;
and by that light, true or false, all her operative powers are directed. The Will itself, how
absolute and incontrollable soever it may be thought, never fails in its obedience to the
dictates of the understanding. Temples have their sacred images; and we see what influence
they have always had over a great part of mankind; but in truth, the ideas and images in
men's minds are the invisible powers that constantly govern them; and to these they all pay
universally a ready submission." But whether this be in a just consistence with themselves,
and their own notions of liberty, I desire may now be impartially considered.
Dr. Whitby plainly supposes, that the acts and determinations of the Will always follow the
understanding's view of the greatest good to be obtained, or evil to be avoided; or, in other
words, that the determinations of the Will constantly and infallibly follow these two things
in the Understanding: 1. The degree of good to be obtained, and evil to be avoided, proposed
to the understanding, and apprehended, viewed, and taken notice of by it. 2. The degree of
the understanding's apprehension of that good or evil; which is increased by attention and
consideration. That this is an opinion in which he is exceeding peremptory, (as he is in every
opinion which he maintains in his controversy with the Calvinists,) with disdain of the
contrary opinion, as absurd and self-contradictory, will appear by the following words, in
his Discourse on the Five Points.
"Now, it is certain, that what naturally makes the Understanding to perceive, is evidence
proposed, and apprehended, considered or adverted to: for nothing else can be requisite to
make us come to the knowledge of the truth. Again, what makes the Will choose, is something
approved by the Understanding; and consequently appearing to the soul as good. And
whatsoever it refuseth, is something represented by the Understanding, and so appearing
to the Will, as evil. Whence all that God requires of us is and can be only this; to refuse the
evil, and choose the good. Wherefore, to say that evidence proposed, apprehended, and
considered, is not sufficient to make the Understanding approve; or that the greatest good
proposed, the greatest evil threatened, when equally believed and reflected on, is not sufficient
to engage the Will to choose the good and refuse the evil, is in effect to say, that which alone
doth move the Will to choose or to refuse, is not sufficient to engage it so to do; which being
contradictory to itself, must of necessity be false. Be it then so, that we naturally have an
aversion to the truths proposed to us in the gospel; that only can make us indisposed to attend
to them, but cannot hinder our conviction, when we do apprehend them, and attend to
them.- Be it, that there is in us also a renitency to the good we are to choose; that only can
indispose us to believe it is, and to approve it as our chiefest good. Be it, that we are prone
to the evil that we should decline; that only can render it the more difficult for us to believe
it is the worst of evils. But yet, what we do really believe to be our chiefest good, will still be
chosen; and what we apprehend to be the worst of evils, will, whilst we do continue under
that conviction be refused by us. It therefore can be only requisite, in order to these ends,
that the Good Spirit should so illuminate our Understandings, that we attending to and
considering what lies before us, should apprehend and be convinced of our duty; and that
the blessings of the gospel should be so propounded to us, as that we may discern them to
be our chiefest good; and the miseries it threateneth, so as we may be convinced that they
are the worst of evils; that we may choose the one, and refuse the other."
Here let it be observed, how plainly and peremptorily it is asserted, that the greatest good
proposed, and the greatest evil threatened, when equally believed and reflected on, is sufficient
to engage the will to choose the good, and refuse the evil, and is that alone which doth move
the Will to choose or to refuse; and that it is contradictory to itself, to suppose otherwise;
and therefore must of necessity be false; and then what we do really believe to be our chiefest
good will still be chosen, and what we apprehend to be the worst of evils, will, whilst we
continue under that conviction, be refused by us. Nothing could have been said more to the
purpose, fully to signify, that the determinations of the Will must evermore follow the illumination,
conviction, and notice of the Understanding, with regard to the greatest good
and evil proposed, reckoning both the degree of good and evil understood, and the degree
of Understanding, notice, and conviction of that proposed good and evil; and that it is thus
necessarily, and can be otherwise in no instance: because it is asserted, that it implies a
contradiction, to suppose it ever to be otherwise.
I am sensible, the Doctor's aim in these assertions is against the Calvinist; to show, in opposition
to them, that there is no need of any physical operation of the Spirit of God on the
Will, to change and determine that to a good choice, but that God's operation and assistance
is only moral, suggesting ideas to the Understanding; which he supposes to be enough, if
those ideas are attended to, infallibly to obtain the end. But whatever his design was, nothing
can more directly and fully prove, that every determination of the Will, in choosing and
refusing, is necessary; directly contrary to his own notion of the liberty of the Will. For if
the determination of the Will, evermore, in this manner, follows the light, conviction, and
view of the Understanding, concerning the greatest good and evil, and this be that alone
which moves the Will, and it be a contradiction to suppose otherwise; then it is necessarily
so, the Will necessarily follows this light or view of the understanding, not only in some of
its acts, but in every act of choosing and refusing. So that the Will does not determine itself
in any one of its own acts; but every act of choice and refusal depends on, and is necessarily
connected with, some antecedent cause; which cause is not the Will itself, nor any act of its
own, nor any thing pertaining to that faculty, but something belonging to another faculty,
whose acts go before the will, in all its acts, and govern and determine them.
Here, if it should be replied, that although it be true, that according to the Doctor, the final
determination of the Will always depends upon, and is infallibly connected with, the Understanding's
conviction, and notice of the greatest good; yet the Acts of the will are not necessary;
because that conviction of the Understanding is first dependent on a preceding Act of
the Will, in determining to take notice of the evidence exhibited; by which means the mind
obtains that degree of conviction, which is sufficient and effectual to determine the consequent
and ultimate choice of the Will; and that the Will, with regard to that preceding
act, whereby it determines whether to attend or no, is not necessary; and that in this, the
liberty of the Will consists, that when God holds forth sufficient objective light, the Will is
at liberty whether to command the attention of the mind to it or not.
Nothing can be more weak and inconsiderate than such a reply as this. For that preceding
Act of the Will, in determining to attend and consider, still is an Act of the Will; if the Liberty
of the Will consists in it, as is supposed, as if it be an Act of the Will, it is an act of choice or
refusal. And therefore, if what the Doctor asserts be true, it is determined by some antecedent
light in the Understanding concerning the greatest apparent good or evil. For he asserts, it
is that light which alone doth move the will to choose or refuse. And therefore the Will must
be moved by that, in choosing to attend to the objective light offered, in order to another
consequent act of choice: so that this act is no less necessary than the other. And if we suppose
another Act of the will, still preceding both these mentioned, to determine both, still that
also must be an Act of the Will, an act of choice; and so must, by the same principles, be
infallibly determined by some certain degree of light in the Understanding concerning the
greatest good. And let us suppose as many Acts of the Will, one preceding another, as we
please, yet are they every one of them necessarily determined by a certain degree of light in
the understanding, concerning the greatest and most eligible good in that case; and so, not
one of them free according to Dr. Whitby's notion of freedom. And if it be said, the reason
why men do not attend to light held forth, is because of ill habits contracted by evil acts
committed before, whereby their minds are indisposed to consider the truth held forth to
them, the difficulty is not at all avoided: still the question returns, What determined the
Will in those preceding evil acts? It must, by Dr. Whitby's principles, still be the view of the
Understanding concerning the greatest good and evil. If this view of the Understanding be
that alone which doth move the Will to choose or refuse, as the Doctor asserts, then every
act of choice or refusal, from a man's first existence, is moved and determined by this view;
and this view of the Understanding exciting and governing the act, must be before the act.
And therefore the Will is necessarily determined, in every one of its acts, from a man's first
existence, by a cause beside the will, and a cause that does not proceed from or depend on
any act of the Will at all. Which at once utterly abolishes the Doctor's whole scheme of
Liberty of Will; and he, at one stroke, has cut the sinews of all his arguments from the
goodness, righteousness, faithfulness, and sincerity of God, in his commands, promises,
threatenings, calls, invitations, and expostulations; which he makes use of, under the heads
of reprobation, election, universal redemption, sufficient and effectual grace, and the freedom
of the will of man; and has made vain all his exclamations against the doctrine of the
Calvinists, as charging God with manifest unrighteousness, unfaithfulness, hypocrisy, fallaciousness,
and cruelty.
Dr. Samuel Clark, in his Demonstration of the Being and Attributes of God, to evade the
argument to prove the necessity of volition, from its necessary Connexion with the last
Dictate of the Understanding, supposes the latter not to be diverse from the Act of the will
itself. But if it be so, it will not alter the case as to the necessity of the Act. If the Dictate of
the Understanding be the very same with the determination of the Will, as Dr. Clark supposes,
then this determination is no fruit or effect of choice; and if so, no liberty of choice has any
hand in it: it is necessary; that is, choice cannot prevent it. If the last Dictate of the Understanding
be the same with the determination of volition itself, then the existence of that
determination must be necessary as to volition; in as much as volition can have no opportunity
to determine whether it shall exist or no, it having existence already before volition
has opportunity to determine any thing. It is itself the very rise and existence of volition.
But a thing after it exists, has no opportunity to determine as to its own existence; it is too
late for that.
If liberty consists in that which Arminians suppose, viz. in the will determining its own acts,
having free opportunity and being without all necessity; this is the same as to say, that liberty
consists in the soul having power and opportunity to have what determinations of the will
it pleases. And if the determinations of the Will, and the last Dictates of the Understanding,
be the same thing, then liberty consists in the mind having power and opportunity to choose
its own Dictates of understanding. But this is absurd; for it is to make the determination of
choice prior to the Dictate of Understanding, and the ground of it; which cannot consist
with the Dictate of the Understanding being the determination of choice itself.
Here is no alternative, but to recur to the old absurdity of one determination before another,
and the cause of it; and another before, determining that; and so on in infinitum. If the last
Dictate of the Understanding be the determination of the Will itself, and the soul be free
with regard to that Dictate, in the Arminian notion of freedom; then the soul, before that
dictate of its Understanding exists, voluntarily and according to its own choice determines,
in every case, what that Dictate of the Understanding shall be; otherwise that Dictate, as to
the will, is necessary; and the acts determined by it must also be necessary. So that there is
a determination of the mind prior to that Dictate of the Understanding, an act of choice
going before it, choosing and determining what that Dictate of the Understanding shall be: and this preceding act of choice, being a free Act of Will, must also be the same with another
last Dictate of the Understanding: And if the mind also be free in that Dictate of Understanding,
that must be determined still by another; and so on for ever.
Besides, if the Dictate of the Understanding, and determination of the will be the same, this
confounds the Understanding and will, and makes them the same. Whether they be the
same or no, I will not now dispute; but only would observe, that if it be so, and the
Arminian notion of liberty consists in a self-determining power in the Understanding, free
of all necessity; being independent, undetermined by any thing prior to its own acts and
determinations; and the more the Understanding is thus independent, and sovereign over
its own determinations, the more free: then the freedom of the soul, as a moral agent, must
consist in the independence of the Understanding on any evidence or appearance of things,
or any thing whatsoever that stands forth to the view of the mind, prior to the Understanding's
determination. And what a liberty is this; consisting in an ability, freedom, and easiness
of judging, either according to evidence, or against it; having a sovereign command over
itself at all times, to judge, either agreeably or disagreeably to what is plainly exhibited to
its own view. Certainly, it is no liberty that renders persons the proper subjects of persuasive
reasoning, arguments, expostulations, and such like moral means and inducements. The
use of which with mankind is a main argument of the Arminians, to defend their notion of
liberty without all necessity. For according to this, the more free men are, the less they are
under the government of such means, less subject to the power of evidence and reason, and
more independent on their influence, in their determinations.
And whether the Understanding and Will are the same or no, as Dr. Clark seems to suppose,
yet in order to maintain the Arminian notion of liberty without necessity, the free Will is
not determined by the Understanding, nor necessarily connected with the Understanding;
and the further from such Connexion, the greater the freedom. And when the liberty is full
and complete, the determinations of the will have no Connexion at all with the Dictates of
the Understanding. And if so, in vain are all the applications to the Understanding, in order
to induce to any free virtuous act; and so in vain are all instructions, counsels, invitations,
expostulations, and all arguments and persuasives whatsoever: for these are but applications
to the Understanding, and a clear and lively exhibition of the objects of choice to the mind's
view. But if, after all, the will must be self-determined, and independent on the Understanding,
to what purpose are things thus represented to the Understanding, in order to determine
the choice?
Section X.
Volition necessarily connected with the influence of Motives: with particular observations
on the great inconsistence of Mr. Chubb's assertions and reasonings about the Freedom
of the Will.
That every act of the Will has some cause, and consequently (by what has been already
proved) has a necessary connexion with its cause, and so is necessary by a necessity of connexion
and consequence, is evident by this, that every act of the Will whatsoever is excited
by some motive: which is manifest, because, if the mind, in willing after the manner it does,
is excited by no motive or inducement, then it has no end which it proposes to itself, or
pursues in so doing; it aims at nothing, and seeks nothing. And if it seeks nothing, then it
does not go after any thing, or exert any inclination or preference towards any thing, Which
brings the matter to a contradiction; because for the mind to will something, and for it to
go after something by an act of preference and inclination, are the same thing.
But if every act of the Will is excited by a motive, then that Motive is the cause of the act. If
the acts of the Will are excited by motives, then Motives are the causes of their being excited;
or, which is the same thing, the cause of their existence. And if so, the existence of the acts
of the will is properly the effect of their motives. Motives do nothing, as Motives or inducements,
but by their influence; and so much as is done by their influence is the effect of them.
For that is the notion of an effect, something that is brought to pass by the influence of
something else.
And if volitions are properly the effects of their Motives, then they are necessarily connected
with their Motives. Every effect and event being as was proved before, necessarily connected
with that which is the proper ground and reason of its existence. Thus it is manifest, that
volition is necessary, and is not from any self-determining power in the will: the volition,
which is caused by previous motive and inducement, is not caused by the will exercising a
sovereign power over itself, to determine, cause, and excite volitions in itself. This is not
consistent with the will acting in a state of indifference and equilibrium, to determine itself
to a preference; for the way in which Motives operate, is by biasing the will, and giving it a
certain inclination or preponderation one way.
Here it may be proper to observe, that Mr. Chubb in his Collection of Tracts on Various
Subjects, has advanced a scheme of liberty, which is greatly divided against itself, and thoroughly
subversive of itself: and that many ways.
1. He is abundant in asserting, that the Will, in all its acts, is influenced by Motive and excitement;
and that this is the previous ground and reason of all its acts, and that it is never
otherwise in any instance. He says, (p. 262.) "No action can take place without some Motive
to excite it." And, (p. 263,) "Volition cannot take place without SOME PREVIOUS reason
or motive to induce it." And, (p. 310.) "Action would not take place without some reason
or motive to induce it; it being absurd to suppose, that the active faculty would be exerted
without some PREVIOUS reason to dispose the mind to action." (So also p. 257.) And he
speaks of these things, as what we may be absolutely certain of, and which are the foundation,
the only foundation we have of certainty respecting God's moral perfections. (p. 252 – 255,
261 – 264.) And yet, at the same time, by his scheme, the influence of Motives upon us to excite to action,
and to be actually a ground of volition, is consequent on the volition or choice of the mind.
For he very greatly insists upon it, that in all free actions, before the mind is the subject of
those volitions, which motives excite, it chooses to be so. It chooses, whether it will comply
with the Motive, which presents itself in view, or not; and when various Motives are
presented, it chooses which it will yield to, and which it will reject. (p. 256.) "Every man has
power to act, or to refrain from acting, agreeably with, or contrary to, any Motive that
presents." (p. 257.) "Every man is at liberty to act, or refrain from acting, agreeably with, or
contrary to, what each of these motives, considered singly, would excite him to.- Man has
power, and is as much at liberty, to reject the Motive that does prevail, as he has power, and
is at liberty, to reject those Motives that do not." (And so p. 310, 311.) "In order to constitute
a moral agent, it is necessary, that he should have power to act, or to refrain from acting,
upon such moral motives, as he pleases." And to the like purpose in many other places.
According to these things, the Will acts first, and chooses or refuses to comply with the
Motive that is presented, before it falls under its prevailing influence: and it is first determined
by the mind's pleasure or choice, what Motives it will be induced by, before it is induced by
them.
Now, how can these things hang together? How can the mind First act, and by its act of
volition and choice determine what motives shall be the ground and reason of its volition
and choice? For this supposes, the choice is already made, before the Motive has its effect;
and that the volition is already exerted, before the Motive prevails, so as actually to be the
ground of the volition; and make the prevailing of the Motive, the consequence of the volition,
of which yet it is the ground. If the mind has already chosen to comply with a motive, and
to yield to its excitement, the excitement comes in too late, and is needless afterwards. If the
mind has already chosen to yield to a Motive which invites to a thing, that implies, and in
fact is, a choosing of the thing incited to; and the very act of choice is before the influence
of the motive which induces, and is the ground of the choice; the son is beforehand with
the father that begets him: the choice is supposed to be the ground of that influence of the
Motive, which very influence is supposed to be the ground of the choice. And so vice versa,
the choice is supposed to be the consequence of the influence of the Motive, which influence
of the Motive is the consequence of that very choice.
And besides, if the Will acts first towards the motive before it falls under its influence, and
the prevailing of the Motive upon it to induce it to act and choose, be the fruit and consequence
of its act and choice, then how is the Motive "a PREVIOUS ground and reason of
the act and choice, so that in the nature of the things, volition cannot take place without
some PREVIOUS reason and Motive to induce it;" and that this act is consequent upon,
and follows the Motive? Which things Mr. Chubb often asserts, as of certain and undoubted
truth. So that the very same Motive is both previous and consequent, both before and after,
both the ground and fruit of the very same thing!
II. Agreeable to the aforementioned inconsistent notion of the Will first acting towards the
motive, choosing whether it will comply with it, in order to it becoming a ground of the
Will's acting, before any act of volition can take place, Mr. Chubb frequently calls Motives
and excitements to the action of the will, "the passive ground or reason of that action."
Which is a remarkable phrase; than which I presume there is none more unintelligible, and
void of distinct and consistent meaning, in all the writings of Duns Scotus, or Thomas
Aquinas. When he represents the Motive volition as passive, he must mean - passive in
that affair, or passive with respect to that action, which he speaks of; otherwise it is nothing
to the design of his argument: he must mean, (if that can be called a meaning,) that the
Motive to volition is first acted upon or towards by the volition, choosing to yield to it,
making it a ground of action, or determining to fetch its influence from thence; and so to
make it a previous ground of its own excitation and existence. Which is the same absurdity,
as if one should say, that the soul of man, previous to its existence, chose by what cause it
would come into existence, and acted upon its cause, to fetch influence thence, to bring it
into being; and so its cause was a passive ground of its existence!
Mr. Chubb very plainly supposes motive or excitement to be the ground of the being of
volition. He speaks of it as the ground or reason of the EXERTION of an act of the will, (p.
391, and 392.) and expressly says, that "volition cannot TAKE PLACE without some previous
ground or Motive to induce it," (p. 363.) And he speaks of the act as "FROM the motive,
and FROM THE INFLUENCE of the motive," (p. 352.) "and from the influence that the
Motive has on the man, for the PRODUCTION of an action," (p. 317.) Certainly there is
no need of multiplying words about this; it is easily judged, whether motive can be the
ground of volition taking place, so that the very production of it is from the influence of the
motive, and yet the Motive, before it becomes the ground of the volition, is passive, or acted
upon the volition. But this I will say, that a man, who insists so much on clearness of
meaning in others, and is so much in blaming their confusion and inconsistence, ought, if
he was able, to have explained his meaning in this phrase of "passive ground of action," so
as to show it not to be confused and inconsistent.
If any should suppose, that Mr. Chubb, when he speaks of motive as a "passive ground of
action," does not mean passive with regard to that volition which it is the ground of, but
some other antecedent volition, (though his purpose and argument, and whole discourse,
will by no means allow of such a supposition,) yet it would not help the matter in the least.
For, (1.) If we suppose an act, by which the soul chooses to yield to the invitation of a Motive
to another volition; both these supposed volitions are in effect the very same. A volition to
yield to the force of a motive inviting to choose something, comes to just the same thing as
choosing the thing which the motive invites to, as I observed before. So that here can be no
room to help the matter, by a distinction of two volitions. (2.) If the Motive be passive, not
with respect to the same volition to which the motive excites, but to one truly distinct and
prior; yet, by Mr. Chubb, that prior volition cannot take place without a Motive or excitement,
as a previous ground of its existence. For he insists, that "it is absurd to suppose any volition
should take place without some previous motive to induce it," So that at last it comes to just
the same absurdity: for if every volition must have a previous motive, then the very first in
the whole series must be excited by a previous Motive; and yet the Motive to that first volition
is passive; but cannot be passive with regard to another antecedent volition, because, by the
supposition, it is the very first: therefore if it be passive with respect to any volition, it must
be so with regard to that very volition of which it is the ground, and that is excited by it.
III. Though Mr. Chubb asserts, as above, that every volition has some motive, and that "in
the nature of the thing, no volition can take place without some motive to induce it;" yet he
asserts, that volition does not always follow the strongest Motive; or, in other words, is not
governed by any superior strength of the motive that is followed, beyond Motives to the
contrary, previous to the volition itself. His own words (p. 258.) are as follow:
"Though with regard to physical causes, that which is strongest always prevails, yet it is
otherwise with regard to moral causes. Of these, sometimes the stronger, sometimes the
weaker, prevails. And the ground of this difference is evident, namely, that what we call
moral causes, strictly speaking, are no causes at all, but barely passive reasons of or excitements
to the action, or to the refraining from acting: which excitements we have power, or
are at liberty, to comply with or reject, as I have showed above." And so throughout the
paragraph, he in a variety of phrases insists, that the Will is not always determined by the
strongest Motive, unless by strongest we preposterously mean actually prevailing in the
event; which is not in the Motive, but in the Will; but that the will is not always determined
by the Motive which is strongest, by any strength previous to the volition itself. And he
elsewhere abundantly asserts, that the will is determined by no superior strength or advantage,
that Motives have, from any constitution or state of things, or any circumstances whatsoever,
previous to the actual determination of the will. And indeed his whole discourse on human
liberty implies it, his whole scheme is founded upon it.
But these things cannot stand together. There is a diversity of strength in Motives to choice,
previous to the choice itself. Mr. Chubb himself supposes, that they do previously invite,
induce, excite, and dispose the mind to action. This implies, that they have something in
themselves that is inviting, some tendency to induce and dispose to volition previous to
volition itself. And if they have in themselves this nature and tendency, doubtless they have
it in certain limited degrees, which are capable of diversity; and some have it in greater degrees,
others in less; and they that have most of this tendency, considered with all their
nature and circumstances, previous to volition, are the strongest Motives, and those that
have least, are the weakest Motives.
Now if volition sometimes does not follow the motive which is strongest, or has most previous
tendency or advantage, all things considered, to induce or excite it, but follows the weakest,
or that which, as it stands previously in the mind's view, has least tendency to induce it;
herein the will apparently acts wholly without Motive, without any previous reason to dispose
the mind to it, contrary to what the same author supposes. The act, wherein the will must
proceed without a previous motive to induce it, is the act of preferring the weakest Motive.
For how absurd is it to say, the mind sees previous reason in the Motive, to prefer that
Motive before the other; and at the same time to suppose, that there is nothing in the motive,
in its nature, state, or any circumstance of it whatsoever, as it stands in the previous view
of the mind, that gives it any preference: but on the contrary, the other Motive that stands
in competition with it, in all these respects, has most belonging to it that is inviting and
moving, and has most of a tendency to choice and preference. This is certainly as much as
to say, there is previous ground and reason in the Motive for the act of preference, and yet
no previous reason for it. By the supposition, as to all that is in the two rival Motives, which
tends to preference, previous to the act of preference, it is not in that which is preferred, but
wholly in the other: and yet Mr. Chubb supposes, that the act of preference is from previous
ground and reason, in the motive which is preferred. But are these things consistent? Can
there be previous ground in a thing for an event that takes place, and yet no previous tendency
in it to that event? If one thing follows another, without any previous tendency to its following,
then I should think it very plain, that it follows it without any manner of previous
reason why it should follow.
Yea, in this case, Mr. Chubb supposes, that the event follows an antecedent, as the ground
of its existence, which has not only no tendency to it, but a contrary tendency. The event is
the preference, which the mind gives to that Motive, which is weaker, as it stands in the
previous view of the mind; the immediate antecedent is the view the mind has of the two
rival motives conjunctly; in which previous view of the mind, all the preferableness, or
previous tendency to preference, is supposed to be on the other side, or in the contrary
Motive; and all the unworthiness of preference, and so previous tendency to comparative
neglect, or undervaluing, is on that side which is preferred: and yet in this view of the mind
is supposed to be the previous ground or reason of this act of preference, exciting it, and
disposing the mind to it. Which I leave the reader to judge, whether it be absurd or not. If
it be not, then it is not absurd to say, that the previous tendency of an antecedent to a consequent,
is the ground and reason why that consequent does not follow; and the want of a
previous tendency to an event, yea, a tendency to the contrary, is the true ground and reason
why that event does follow.
An act of choice or preference is a comparative act, wherein the mind acts with reference
to two or more things that are compared, and stand in competition in the mind's view. If
the mind, in this comparative act, prefers that which appears inferior in the comparison,
then the mind herein acts absolutely without motive, or inducement, or any temptation
whatsoever. Then, if a hungry man has the offer of two sorts of food, to both which he finds
an appetite, but has a stronger appetite to one than the other; and there be no circumstances
or excitements whatsoever in the case to induce him to take either the one or the other, but
merely his appetite: if in the choice he makes between them, he chooses that which he has
least appetite to, and refuse that to which he has the strongest appetite, this is a choice made
absolutely without previous Motive, Excitement, Reason, or Temptation, as much as if he
were perfectly without all appetite to either; because his volition in this case is a comparative
act, following a comparative view of the food, which he chooses, in which view his preference
has absolutely no previous ground, yea, is against all previous ground and motive. And if
there be any principle in man, from whence an act of choice may arise after this manner,
from the same principle volition may arise wholly without motive on either side. If the mind
in its volition can go beyond Motive, then it can go without Motive: for when it is beyond
the Motive, it is out of the reach of the Motive, out of the limits of its influence, and so
without. Motive. If so, this demonstrates the independence of volition on Motive; and no
reason can be given for what Mr. Chubb so often asserts, even that "in the nature of things
volition cannot take place without a motive to induce it."
If the Most High should endow a balance with agency or activity of nature, in such a manner,
that when unequaled weights are put into the scales, its agency could enable it to cause that
scale to descend, which has the least weight, and so to raise the greater weight; this would
clearly demonstrate, that the motion of the balance does not depend on weights in the scales;
at least, as much as if the balance should move itself, when there is no weight in either scale.
And the activity of the balance which is sufficient to move itself against the greater weight,
must certainly be more than sufficient to move it when there is no weight at all.
Mr. Chubb supposes, that the Will cannot stir at all without some Motive; and also supposes,
that if there be a Motive to one thing, and none to the contrary, volition will infallibly follow
that motive. This is virtually to suppose an entire dependence of the Will on Motives; if it
were not wholly dependent on them, it could surely help itself a little without them; or help
itself a little against a Motive, without help from the strength and weight of a contrary
Motive. And yet his supposing that the will, when it has before it various opposite Motives,
can use them as it pleases, and choose its own influence from them, and neglect the strongest,
and follow the weakest, supposes it to be wholly independent on Motives.
It further appears, on Mr. Chubb's hypothesis, that volition must be without any previous
ground in any motive, thus: if it be, as he supposes, that the will is not determined by any
previous superior strength of the motive, but determines and chooses its own Motive, then,
when the rival Motives are exactly equal, in all respects, it may follow either; and may, in
such a case, sometimes follow one, sometimes the other. And if so, this diversity which appears
between the acts of the Will, is plainly without previous ground in either of the Motives;
for all that is previously in the Motives, is supposed precisely and perfectly the same, without
any diversity whatsoever. Now perfect identity, as to all that is previous in the antecedent,
cannot be the ground and reason of diversity in the consequent. Perfect identity in the
ground, cannot be a reason why it is not followed with the same consequence. And therefore
the source of this diversity of consequence must be sought for elsewhere.
And lastly, it may be observed, that however much Mr. Chubb insists, that no volition can
take place without some Motive to induce it, which previously disposes the mind to it; yet,
as he also insists that the mind, without reference to any superior strength of motives, picks
and chooses for its Motive to follow; he himself herein plainly supposes, that, with regard
to the mind's preference of one Motive before another - it is not the motive that disposes
the Will, but - the will disposes itself to follow the Motive.
IV. Mr. Chubb supposes necessity to be utterly inconsistent with agency; and that to suppose
a being to be an agent in that which is necessary, is a plain contradiction, p. 311. and
throughout his discourses on the subject of Liberty, he supposes, that necessity cannot
consist with agency or freedom; and that to suppose otherwise, is to make Liberty and Necessity,
Action and Passion, the same thing. And so he seems to suppose, that there is no
action, strictly speaking, but volition; and that as to the effects of volition in body or mind,
in themselves considered, being necessary, they are said to be free, only as they are the effects
of an act that is not necessary.
And yet, according to him, volition itself is the effect of volition; yea, every act of free volition;
and therefore every act of free volition must, by what has now been observed from him, be
necessary. That every act of free volition is itself the effect of volition, is abundantly supposed
by him. In p. 341, he says," If a man is such a creature as I have proved him to be, that is, if
he has in him a power of Liberty of doing either good or evil, and either of these is the subject
of his own free choice, so that he might, IF HE HAD PLEASED, have CHOSEN and done
the contrary." - Here he supposes all that is good or evil in man is the effect of his choice;
and so that his good or evil choice itself is the effect of his pleasure or choice, in these words,
"he might if he had PLEASED, have CHOSEN the contrary." So in p 356, "Though it be
highly reasonable, that a man should always choose the greater good,- yet he may, if he
PLEASES, CHOOSE otherwise." Which is the same thing as if he had said, he may if He
chooses choose otherwise. And then he goes on,- " that is, he may, if he pleases, choose
what is good for himself," &c. And again in the same page," The Will is not confined by the
understanding, to any particular sort of good, whether greater or less; but it is at liberty to
choose what kind of good it pleases." - If there be any meaning in the last words, it must
be this, that the Will is at liberty to choose what kind of good it chooses to choose; supposing
the act of choice itself determined by an antecedent choice. The Liberty Mr. Chubb speaks
of, is not only a man's power to move his body, agreeable to an antecedent act of choice,
but to use or exert the faculties of his soul. Thus, (p. 379.) speaking of the faculties of the
mind, he says, "Man has power, and is at liberty to neglect these faculties, to use them aright,
or to abuse them, as he pleases." And that he supposes an act of choice or exercise of pleasure,
properly distinct from, and antecedent to, those acts thus chosen, directing, commanding,
and producing the chosen acts, and even the acts of choice themselves, is very plain in p.283. "He can command his actions; and herein consists his Liberty; he can give or deny
himself that pleasure, as he pleases. And p. 377. If the actions of men - are not the produce
of a free choice, or election, but spring from a necessity of nature,- he cannot in reason be
the object of reward or punishment on their account. Whereas, if action in man, whether
good or evil, is the produce of will or free choice; so that a man in either case, had it in his
power, and was at liberty to have CHOSEN the contrary, he is the proper object of reward
or punishment, according as he chooses to behave himself." Here, in these last words, he
speaks of Liberty of choosing according as he chooses. So that the behavior which he speaks
of as subject to his choice, is his choosing itself, as well as his external conduct consequent
upon it. And therefore it is evident, he means not only external actions, but the acts of choice
themselves, When he speaks of all free actions, as the PRODUCE of free choice. And this
is abundantly evident in what he says elsewhere, (p. 372, 373.)
Now these things imply a twofold great inconsistence.
1. To suppose, as Mr. Chubb plainly does, that every free act of choice is commanded by,
and is the produce of, free choice, is to suppose the first free act of choice belonging to the
case, yea, the first free act of choice that ever man exerted, to be the produce of an antecedent
act of choice. But I hope I need not labor at all to convince my readers, that it is an absurdity
to say, the very first act is the produce of another act that went before it.
2. If it were both possible and real, as Mr. Chubb insists, that every free act of choice were
the produce or the effect of a free act of choice; yet even then, according to his principles,
no one act of choice would be free, but every one necessary; because, every act of choice
being the effect of a foregoing act, every act would be necessarily connected with that foregoing
cause. For Mr. Chubb himself says, (p. 389.) "When the self-moving power is exerted,
it becomes the necessary cause of its effects." - So that his notion of a free act, that is rewardable
or punishable, is a heap of contradictions. It is a free act, and yet, by his own notion
of freedom, is necessary; and therefore by him it is a contradiction, to suppose it to be free.
According to him, every free act is the produce of a free act; so that there must be an infinite
number of free acts in succession, without any beginning, in an agent that has a beginning.
And therefore here is an infinite number of free acts, every one of them free; and yet not
any one of them free, but every act in the whole infinite chain a necessary effect. All the acts
are rewardable or punishable, and yet the agent cannot, in reason, be the object of reward
or punishment, on account of any one of these actions. He is active in them all, and passive
in none; yet active in none, but passive in all, &c.
V. Mr. Chubb most strenuously denies, that Motives are causes of the acts of the Will; or
that the moving principle in man is moved, or caused to be exerted by motives. His words,
(p. 388 and 389.) are, "If the moving principle in man is Moved, or caused to be Exerted,
by something external to man, which all Motives are, then it would not be a self-moving
principle, seeing it would be moved by a principle external to itself. And to say, that a selfmoving
principle is moved, or caused to be exerted, by a cause external to itself; is absurd
and a contradiction," &c.- And in the next page, it is particularly and largely insisted, that
motives are causes in no case, that "they are merely passive in the production of action, and
have no causality in the production of it,- no causality, to be the cause of the exertion of
the will.
Now I desire it may be considered, how this can possibly consist with what he says in other
places. Let it be noted here, 1. Mr. Chubb abundantly speaks of Motives as excitements of
the acts of the Will; and says, that motives do excite volition, and induce it, and that they
are necessary to this end; that in the reason and nature of things, volition cannot take place
without motives to excite it. But now, if Motives excite the will, they move it; and yet he
says, it is absurd to say, the Will is moved by motives. And again, if language is of any signi-
ficance at all, if Motives excite volition, then they are the cause of its being excited; and to
cause volition to be excited, is to cause it to be put forth or excited. Yea, Mr. Chubb says
himself, (p. 317.) motive is necessary to the exertion of the active faculty. To excite, is positively
to do something; and certainly that which does something, is the cause of the thing
done by it. To create, is to cause to be created; to make, is to cause to be made; to kill, is to
cause to be killed; to quicken, is to cause to be quickened; and to excite, is to cause to be
excited. To excite, is to be a cause, in the most proper sense, not merely a negative occasion,
but a ground of existence by positive influence. The notion of exciting, is exerting influence
to cause the effect to arise or come forth into existence.
2. Mr. Chubb himself (p. 317.) speaks of Motives as the ground and reason of action BY
INFLUENCE, and BY PREVAILING INFLUENCE. Now, what can be meant by a cause,
but something that is the ground and reason of a thing by its influence, an influence that is
prevalent and effectual?
3. This author not only speaks of Motives as the ground and reason of action, by prevailing
influence; but expressly of their influence as prevailing for the production of an action, (p.317.) which makes the inconsistency still more palpable and notorious. The production of
an effect is certainly the causing of an effect; and productive influence is causal influence,
if any thing is; and that which has this influence prevalently, so as thereby to become the
ground of another thing, is a cause of that thing, if there be any such thing as a cause. This
influence, Mr. Chubb says, Motives have to produce an action; and yet, he says, it is absurd
and a contradiction, to say they are causes.
4. In the same page, he once and again speaks of motives as disposing the Agent to action,
by their influence. His words are these: "As Motive, which takes place in the understanding,
and is the product of intelligence, is NECESSARY to action, that is, to the EXERTION of
the active faculty, because that faculty would not be exerted without some PREVIOUS
REASON TO DISPOSE the mind to action; so from hence it plainly appears, that when a
man is said to be disposed to one action rather than another, this properly signifies the
PREVAILING INFLUENCE that one motive has upon a man FOR THE PRODUCTION
of an action, or for the being at rest, before all other Motives, for the production of the
contrary. For as motive is the ground and reason of any action, so the Motive that prevails,
disposes the agent to the performance of that action."
Now, if motives dispose the mind to action, then they cause the mind to be disposed; and
to cause the mind to be disposed is to cause it to be willing; and to cause it to be willing is
to cause it to will; and that is the same thing as to be the cause of an act of the Will. And yet
this same Mr. Chub holds it to be absurd, to suppose motive to be a cause of the act of the
Will.
And if we compare these things together, we have here again a whole heap of inconsistencies.
Motives are the previous ground and reason of the acts of the Will; yea, the necessary ground
and reason of their exertion, without which they will not be exerted, and cannot, in the
nature of things, take place; and they do excite these acts of the Will, and do this by a prevailing
influence; yea, an influence which prevails for the production of the act of the Will,
and for the disposing of the mind to it; and yet it is absurd, to suppose Motive to be a cause
of an act of the Will, or that a principle of Will is moved or caused to be exerted by it, or
that it has any causality in the production of it, or any causality to be the cause of the exertion
of the Will.
A due consideration of these things which Mr. Chubb has advanced, the strange inconsistencies
which his notion of Liberty- consisting in the Will's power of self-determination
void of all necessity, united with that dictate of common sense, that there can be no volition
without a Motive- drove him into, may be sufficient to convince us, that is utterly impossible
ever to make that notion of Liberty consistent with the influence of motives in volition. And
as it is in a manner self-evident, that there can be no act of Will, or preference of the mind,
without some motive or inducement, something in the mind's view which it aims at, and
goes after; so it is most manifest, that there is no such Liberty in the universe as Arminians
insist on; nor any such thing possible, or conceivable.
Section XI.
The evidence of God's certain Foreknowledge of the volitions of moral Agents.
THAT the acts of the Wills of moral Agents are not contingent events, in such a sense, as
to be without all necessity, appears by God's certain Foreknowledge of such events.
In handling this argument, I would in the first place prove, that God has a certain Foreknowledge
of the voluntary acts of moral Agents; and secondly, show the consequence, or how
it follows from hence, that the Volitions of moral Agents are not contingent, so as to be
without necessity of connexion and consequence.
First, I am to prove, that God has an absolute and certain Foreknowledge of the free actions
of moral Agents.
One would think it wholly needless to enter on such an argument with any that profess
themselves Christians: but so it is; God's certain Foreknowledge of the free acts of moral
Agents, is denied by some that pretend to believe the Scriptures to be the Word of God; and
especially of late. I therefore shall consider the evidence of such a prescience in the Most
High, as fully as the designed limits of this essay will admit; - supposing myself herein to
have to do with such as own the truth of the Bible.
Arg. I. My first argument shall be taken from God's prediction of such events. Here I would,
in the first place, lay down these two things as axioms.
1. If God does not foreknow, He cannot foretell such events; that is, He cannot peremptorily
and certainly foretell them. If God has no more than an uncertain guess concerning events
of this kind, then he can declare no more than an uncertain guess. Positively to foretell, is
to profess to foreknow, or declare positive Foreknowledge.
If God does not certainly foreknow the future Volitions of moral Agents, then neither can
he certainly foreknow those events which are dependent on these Volitions. The existence
of the one depending on the existence of the other, the knowledge of the existence of the
one depends on the knowledge of the existence of the other; and the one cannot be more
certain than the other.
Therefore, how many, how great, and how extensive soever the consequences of the Volitions
of moral Agents may be; though they should extend to an alteration of the state of things
through the universe, and should be continued in a series of successive events to all eternity,
and should in the progress of things branch forth into an infinite number of series, each of
them going on in an endless chain of events; God must be as ignorant of all these consequences,
as he is of the Volition whence they first take their rise: and the whole state of
things depending on them, how important, extensive, and vast soever, must be hid from
him.
These positions being such as, I suppose, none will deny, I now proceed to observe the following
things. 1. Men's moral conduct and qualities, their virtues and vices, their wickedness
and good practice, things rewardable and punishable, have often been foretold by God.-
Pharaoh's moral conduct, in refusing to obey God's command, in letting his people go, was
foretold. God says to Moses, Exod. iii. 19. "I am sure that the king of Egypt will not let you
go." Here God professes not only to guess at, but to know Pharaoh's future disobedience.
In chap. vii. 4. God says, "but Pharaoh shall not hearken unto you; that I may lay mine hand
upon Egypt," &c. And chap. ix. 30. Moses says to Pharaoh, "as for thee, and thy servants, I
Know that ye will not fear the Lord." See also chap. xi. 9.- The moral conduct of Josiah, by
name, in his zealously exerting himself to oppose idolatry, in particular acts, was foretold
above three hundred years before he was born, and the prophecy sealed by a miracle, and
renewed and confirmed by the words of a second prophet, as what surely would not fail, (1
Kings xiii. 1 – 6, 32.) This prophecy was also in effect a prediction of the moral conduct of
the people, in upholding their schismatical and idolatrous worship until that time, and the
idolatry of those priests of the high places, which it is foretold Josiah should offer upon that
altar of Bethel. Micah foretold the foolish and sinful conduct of Ahab, in refusing to hearken
to the word of the Lord by him, and choosing rather to hearken to the false prophets, in
going to Ramoth Gilead to his ruin, (1 King's xxi. 20 – 22.) The moral conduct of Hazael
was foretold, in that cruelty he should be guilty of; on which Hazael says, "what, is thy servant
a dog, that he should do this thing!" The prophet speaks of the event as what he knew, and
not what he conjectured, 2 Kings viii. 12. "I know the evil that thou wilt do unto the children
of Israel: Thou wilt dash their children, and rip up their women with child." The moral
conduct of Cyrus is foretold, long before he had a being, in his mercy to God's people, and
regard to the true God, in turning the captivity of the Jews, and promoting the building of
the temple, (Isa. xliv. 28. and lxv. 13. compare 2 Chron. xxxvi. 22, 23. and Ezra i. 1 – 4.) How
many instances of the moral conduct of the kings of the North and South, particular instances
of the wicked behaviour of the kings of Syria and Egypt, are foretold in the 11th chapter of
Daniel! Their corruption, violence, robbery, treachery, and lies. And particularly, how much
is foretold of the horrid wickedness of Antiochus Epiphanes, called there "a vile person,"
instead of Epiphones, or illustrious! In that chapter, and also in chap. viii. ver. 9, 14, 23, to
the end, are foretold his flattery, deceit, and lies, his having "his heart set to do mischief,"
and set "against the holy covenant," his "destroying and treading under foot the holy people,"
in a marvellous manner, his "having indignation against the holy covenant, setting his heart
against it, and conspiring against it," his "polluting the sanctuary of strength, treading it
under foot, taking away the daily sacrifice, and placing the abomination that maketh desolate;"
his great pride, "magnifying himself against God, and uttering marvellous blasphemies
against Him," until God in indignation should destroy him. Withal, the moral conduct of
the Jews, on occasion of his persecution, is predicted. It is foretold, that "he should corrupt
many by flatteries," (chap. xi. 32 – 34.) But that others should behave with a glorious constancy
and fortitude, in opposition to him, (ver. 32.) And that some good men should fall
and repent, (ver. 35,) Christ foretold Peter's sin, in denying his Lord, with its circumstances,
in a peremptory manner. And so, that great sin of Judas, in betraying his master, and its
dreadful and eternal punishment in hell, was foretold in the like positive manner, Matt.xxvi. 21 – 25, and parallel places in the other Evangelists.
2. Many events have been foretold by God, which are dependent on the moral conduct of
particular persons, and were accomplished, either by their virtuous or vicious actions. Thus,
the children of Israel's going down into Egypt to dwell there, was foretold to Abraham,
(Gen. xv.) which was brought about by the wickedness of Joseph's brethren in selling him,
and the wickedness of Joseph's mistress, and his own signal virtue in resisting her temptation.
The accomplishment of the thing prefigured in Joseph's dream, depended on the same
moral conduct. Jotham's parable and prophecy, (Judges ix. 15 – 20.) was accomplished by
the wicked conduct of Abimelech, and the men of Shechem. The prophecies against the
house of Eli, (1 Sam. chap. ii. and iii.) were accomplished by the wickedness of Doeg the
Edomite, in accusing the priests; and the great impiety, and extreme cruelty of Saul in destroying
the priests at Nob (1 Sam. xxii.) Nathan's prophecy against David, (2 Sam. xii. 11,
12.) was fulfilled by the horrible wickedness of Absalom, in rebelling against his father,
seeking his life, and lying with his concubines in the sight of the sun. The prophecy against
Solomon, (1 Kings xi. 11 – 13.) was fulfilled by Jeroboam's rebellion and usurpation, which
are spoken of as his wickedness, (2 Chron. xiii. 5, 6. compare ver. 18.) The prophecy against
Jeroboam's family, (1 Kings xiv.) was fulfilled by the conspiracy, treason, and cruel murders
of Bassha, (2 Kings 15.27 &c.). The predictions of the prophet Jehu against the house of
Bassha, (1 Kings xvi. at the beginning,) were fulfilled by the treason and parricide of Zimri,
(1 Kings xvi. 9 – 13, 20.)
3. How often has God foretold the future moral conduct of nations and people, of numbers,
bodies, and successions of men; with God's judicial proceedings, and many other events
consequent and dependent on their virtues and vices; which could not be foreknown, if the
Volitions of men, wherein they acted as moral Agents, had not been foreseen! The future
cruelty of the Egyptians in oppressing Israel, and God's judging and punishing them for it,
was foretold long before it came to pass, (Gen. xv. 13, 14.) The continuance of the iniquity
of the Amorites, and the increase of it until it should be full, and they ripe for destruction,
was foretold above four hundred years before, (Gen. xv. 16. Acts vii. 6, 7.) The prophecies
of the destruction of Jerusalem, and the land of Judah, were absolute; (2 Kings xx. 17 – 19. chap. xxii. 15, to the end). It was foretold in Hezekiah's time, and was abundantly insisted
on in the book of the prophet Isaiah, who wrote nothing after Hezekiah's days. It was foretold
in Josiah's time, in the beginning of a great reformation, (2 Kings xxii.) And it is manifest
by innumerable things in the predictions of the prophets, relating to this event, its time, its
circumstances, its continuance, and end; the return from the captivity, the restoration of
the temple, city, and land, &c. I say, these show plainly, that the prophecies of this great
event were absolute. And yet this event was connected with, and dependent on, two things
in men's moral conduct: first, the injurious rapine and violence of the king of Babylon and
his people, as the efficient cause; which God often speaks of as what He Highly resented,
and would severely punish; and secondly, the final obstinacy of the Jews. That great event
is often spoken of as suspended on this, (Jer. iv. 1 and v. 1, vii. 1 – 7. xi. 1 – 6. xvii. 24, to the
end, xxv. 1 – 7. xxvi. 1 – 8, 13. and xxxviii. 17, 18.) Therefore this destruction and captivity
could not be foreknown, unless such a moral conduct of the Chaldeans and Jews had been
foreknown. And then it was foretold, that the people should he finally obstinate, to the utter
desolation of the city and land, (Isa. vi. 9 – 11 Jer. i. 18, 19. vii. 27 – 29. Ezek. iii. 7. and xxiv.13, 14.)
The final obstinacy of those Jews who were left in the land of Israel, in their idolatry and
rejection of the true God, was foretold by him, and the prediction confirmed with an oath,
(Jer. xliv. 26, 27.) And God tells the people, (Isa. xlviii. 3, 4 – 8.) that he had predicted those
things which should be consequent on their treachery and obstinacy, because he knew they
would be obstinate; and that he had declared these things beforehand, for their conviction
of his being the only true God, &c.
The destruction of Babylon, with many of the circumstances of it, was foretold, as the
judgment of God for the exceeding pride and haughtiness of the heads of that monarchy,
Nebuchadnezzar and his successors, and their wickedly destroying other nations, and particularly
for their exalting themselves against the true God and his people, before any of
these monarchs had a being; (Isa. chap. xiii. xiv. xlvii. compare Habak. ii. 5, to the end, and
Jer. chap. l. and li.) That Babylon's destruction was to be "a recompense, according to the
works of their own hands," appears by Jer. xxv. 14.- The immorality of which the people
of Babylon, and particularly her princes and great men, were guilty, that very night that the
city was destroyed, their reveling and drunkenness at Belshazzar's idolatrous feast, was
foretold, Jer. li. 39, 57.)
The return of the Jews from the Babylonish captivity is often very particularly foretold, with
many circumstances, and the promises of it are very peremptory: (Jer. xxxi. 35 – 40. and
xxxii. 6 – 15, 41 – 44. and xxxiii. 24 – 26.) And the very time of their return was prefixed;
(Jer. xxv. 11, 12. and xxix. 10, 11. 2 Chron. xxxvi. 21. Ezek. iv. 6. and Dan. ix. 2.) And yet
the prophecies represent their return as consequent on their repentance. And their repentance
itself is very expressly and particularly foretold, (Jer. xxix. 12, 13, 14. xxxi. 8, 9, 18 – 31. xxxiii. 8. l. 4, 5. Ezek. vi. 8, 9, 10. vii. 16. xiv. 22, 23. and xx. 43, 44.)
It was foretold under the Old Testament, that the Messiah should suffer greatly through the
malice and cruelty of men; as is largely and fully set forth, Psal. xxii. applied to Christ in the
New Testament, (Matt. xxvii. 35, 43. Luke xxiii. 34. John xix. 24. Heb. ii. 12.) And likewise
in Psal. lxix. which, it is also evident by the New Testament, is spoken of Christ; (John xv.25. vii. 5, &c. and ii. 17. Rom. xv. 3. Matt. xxvii. 34, 48. Mark xv. 23. John xix. 29.) The same
thing is also foretold, Isa. liii. and l. 6. and Mic. v. 1. This cruelty of men was their sin, and
what they acted as moral Agents. It was foretold, that there should be an union of heathen
and Jewish rulers against Christ, (Psal. ii. 1, 2. compared with Acts iv. 25 – 28.) It was foretold,
that the Jew should generally reject and despise the Messiah, (Isa. xlix. 5, 6, 7. and liii. 1 –
3. Psal. xxii. 6, 7 and lxix. 4, 8, 19, 20.) And it was foretold, that the body of that nation
should be rejected in the Messiah's days, from being God's people, for their obstinacy in
sin; (Isa. xlix. 4 - 7. and viii. 14, 15, 16. compared with Rom. x. 19. and Isa. 1xv. at the beginning,
compared with Rom. x. 20, 21.) It was foretold, that Christ should be rejected by
the chief priests and rulers among the Jews, (Psal. cxviii. 22. compared with Matt. xxi. 42. Acts iv. 11. Pet. ii. 4, 7.)
Christ himself foretold his being delivered into the hands of the elders, chief priests, and
scribes, and his being cruelly treated by them, and condemned to death; and that he by them
should be delivered to the Gentiles: and that he should be mocked and scourged, and crucified,
(Matt. xvi. 21. and xx. 17 – 19. Luke ix. 22. John viii. 28.) and that the people should
be concerned in and consenting to his death, (Luke xx. 13 – 18.) especially the inhabitants
of Jerusalem; (Luke xiii. 33 – 35.) He foretold, that the disciples should all be offended because
of him, that night in which he was betrayed, and should forsake him; (Matt. xxvi. 31. John
xvi. 32.) He foretold, that he should be rejected of that generation, even the body of the
people, and that they should continue obstinate to their ruin; (Matt. xii. 45. xxi. 33 – 42. and
xxii. 1 – 7. Luke xiii. 16, 21, 24. xvii. 25. xix. 14, 27, 41, 44. xx. 13 – 18. and xxiii. 34 - 39.)
As it was foretold in both the Old Testament and the New that the Jews should reject the
Messiah, so it was foretold that the Gentiles should receive him, and so be admitted to the
privileges of God's people; in places too many to be now particularly mentioned. It was
foretold in the Old Testament, that the Jews should envy the Gentiles on this account; (Deut. xxxii. 21. compared with Rom. x. 19.) Christ himself often foretold, that the Gentiles would
embrace the true religion, and become his followers and people; (Matt. viii. 10, 11, 12. xxi.41 – 43. and xxii. 8 – 10. Luke xiii. 28. xiv. 16 – 24. and xx. 16. John x. 16.) He also foretold
the Jews envy of the Gentiles on this occasion; (Matt. xx. 12 - 16. Luke xv. 26, to the end.) He foretold, that they should continue in this opposition and envy, and should manifest it
in the cruel persecutions of his followers, to their utter destruction; (Matt. xxi. 33 – 42. xxii.6. and xxiii. 34 – 39 Luke xi. 49 – 51.) The obstinacy of the Jews is also foretold, (Acts xxii.18.) Christ often foretold the great persecutions his followers should meet with, both from Jews and Gentiles; (Matt. x. 16 – 18, 21, 22, 34 – 36. and xxiv. 9. Mark xiii. 9. Luke x. 3. xii.11, 49 – 53. and xxi. 12, 16, 17. John xv. 18 – 21. and xvi. 1 – 4, 20 – 22, 23.) He foretold the
martyrdom of particular persons; (Matt. xx. 23. John xiii. 36. and xxi. 18, 19, 22.) He foretold
the great success of the gospel in the city of Samaria, as near approaching; which afterwards
was fulfilled by the preaching of Philip, (John iv. 35 – 38.) He foretold the rising of many
deceivers after his departure, (Matt. xxiv. 4, 5, 11.) and the apostasy of many of his professed
followers; (Matt. xxiv. 10, 12.)
The persecutions, which the apostle Paul was to meet with in the world, were foretold; (Acts
ix. 16. xx. 23, and xxi. 11.) The apostle says, to the Christian Ephesians, (Acts xx. 29, 30.) "I
know, that after my departure shall grievous wolves enter in among you, not sparing the
flock; also of your own selves shall men arise, speaking perverse things, to draw away disciples
after them." The apostle says, he knew this: but he did not know it, if God did not know the
future actions of moral Agents.
4. Unless God foreknows the future acts of moral Agents, all the prophecies we have in
Scripture concerning the great Antichristian apostasy; the rise, reign, wicked qualities, and
deeds of "the man of sin," and his instruments and adherents; the extent and long continuance
of his dominion, his influence on the minds of princes and others, to corrupt them, and
draw them away to idolatry, and other foul vices; his great and cruel persecutions; the behaviour
of the saints under these great temptations, &c. &.c. I say, unless the Volitions of
moral Agents are foreseen, all these prophecies are uttered without knowing the things
foretold.
The predictions relating to this great apostasy are all of a moral nature, relating to men's
virtues and vices, and their exercises, fruits, and consequences, and events depending on
them; and are very particular; and most of them often repeated, with many precise characteristics,
descriptions, and limitations of qualities, conduct, influence, effects, extent, duration,
periods, circumstances, final issue, &c. which it would be tedious to mention particularly.
And to suppose, that all these are predicted by God, without any certain knowledge of the
future moral behaviour of free Agents, would be to the utmost degree absurd.
5. Unless God foreknow the future acts of men's Wills, and their behaviour as moral Agents,
all those great things which are foretold both in the Old Testament and the New, concerning
the erection, establishment, and universal extent of the kingdom of the Messiah, were predicted
and promised while God was in ignorance whether any of these things would come
to pass or no, and did but guess at them. For that kingdom is not of this world, it does not
consist in things external, but is within men, and consists in the dominion of virtue in their
hearts, in righteousness, and peace, and joy in the Holy ghost; and in these things made
manifest in practice, to the praise and glory of God. The Messiah came "to save men from
their sins, and deliver them from their spiritual enemies; that they might serve him in
righteousness and holiness before Him: he gave himself for us, that he might redeem us
from all iniquity, and purify unto himself a peculiar people, zealous of good works." And
therefore his success consists in gaining men's hearts to virtue, in their being made God's
willing people in the day of his power. His conquest of his enemies consists in his victory
over men's corruptions and vices. And such a victory, and such a dominion is often expressly
foretold: that his kingdom shall fill the earth; that all people, nations, and languages should
serve and obey him; and so that all nations should go up to the mountain of the house of
the Lord, that he might teach them his ways, and that they might walk in his paths; and that
all men should be drawn to Christ, and the earth be full of the knowledge of the Lord (true
virtue and religion) as the waters cover the seas; that God's laws should be put into men's
inward parts, and written in their hearts; and that God's people should be all righteous, &c.&c.
A very great part of the Old-Testament prophecies is taken up in such predictions as these.-
And here I would observe, that the prophecies of the universal prevalence of the kingdom
of the Messiah, and true religion of Jesus Christ, are delivered in the most peremptory
manner, and confirmed by the oath of God, Isa. xlv. 22, to the end, "Look unto me, and be
ye saved, all the ends of the earth; for I am God, and there is none else. I have SWORN by
my Self, the word is gone out of my mouth in righteousness, and shall not return, that unto
Me every knee shall bow, and every tongue shall swear. Surely, shall one say, in the Lord
have I righteousness and strength: even to Him shall men come," &c. But, here, this peremptory
declaration and great oath of the Most High, are delivered with such mighty solemnity,
respecting things which God did not know, if he did not certainly foresee the Volitions of
moral Agents.
And all the predictions of Christ and his apostles, to the like purpose, must be without
knowledge: as those of our Saviour comparing the kingdom of God to a grain of mustardseed,
growing exceeding great, from a small beginning; and to leaven, hid in three measures
of meal, until the whole was leavened, &c.- And the prophecies in the epistles concerning
the restoration of the Jewish nation to the true church of God, and bringing in the fulness
of the Gentiles; and the prophecies in all the Revelation concerning the glorious change in
the moral state of the world of mankind, attending the destruction of Antichrist, "the kingdoms
of the world becoming the kingdoms of our Lord and of his Christ;" and its being
granted to the church to be "arrayed in that fine linen, white and clean, which is the righteousness
of saints," &c.
Corol. 1. Hence that great promise and oath of God to Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob, so much
celebrated in Scripture, both in the Old Testament and the New, namely, "That in their seed
all the nations and families of the earth should be blessed," must be made on uncertainties,
if God does not certainly foreknow the Volitions of moral Agents. For the fulfilment of this
promise consists in that success of Christ in the work of redemption, and that setting up of
his spiritual kingdom over the nations of the world, which has been spoken of. Men are
"blessed in Christ:" no otherwise than as they are brought to acknowledge him, trust in him,
love and serve him, as is represented and predicted in Psal lxxii. 11. "All kings shall fall down
before Him; all nations shall serve him." With ver. 17. "Men shall be blessed in him; all nations
shall call him blessed." This oath to Jacob and Abraham is fulfilled in subduing men's
iniquities; as is implied in that of the prophet Micah, chap. vii. 19, 20.
Corol. 2. Hence also it appears, that the first gospel promise that ever was made to mankind,
that great prediction of the salvation of the Messiah, and his victory over Satan, made to
our first parents, (Gen. iii. 15.) if there be no certain Prescience of the volitions of moral
Agents, must have no better foundation than conjecture. For Christ's victory over Satan
consists in men's being saved from sin, and in the victory of virtue and holiness over that
vice and wickedness which Satan by his temptations has introduced, and wherein his kingdom
consists.
6. If it be so, that God has not a Prescience of the future actions of moral Agents, it will follow,
that the prophecies of Scripture in general are without Foreknowledge. For Scripture
prophecies, almost all of them, if not universally, are either predictions of the actings and
behaviour of moral Agents, or of events depending on them, or some way connected with
them; judicial dispensations, judgments on men for their wickedness, or rewards of virtue
and righteousness, remarkable manifestations of favour to the righteous, or manifestations
of sovereign mercy to sinners, forgiving their iniquities, and magnifying the riches of divine
grace; or dispensations of Providence, in some respect or other, relating to the conduct of
the subjects of God's moral government, wisely adapted thereto; either providing for what
should be in a future state of things, through the Volitions and voluntary actions of moral
Agents, or consequent upon them, and regulated and ordered according to them. So that
all events that are foretold, are either moral events, or others which are connected with and
accommodated to them.
That the predictions of Scripture in general must be without knowledge, if God does not
foresee the Volitions of men, will further appear, if it be considered, that almost all events
belonging to the future state of the world of mankind, the changes and revolutions which
come to pass in empires, kingdoms, and nations, and all societies, depend, in ways innumerable,
on the acts of men's Wills; yea, on an innumerable multitude of millions of Volitions.
Such is the state and course of things in the world of mankind, that one single event, which
appears in itself exceeding inconsiderable, may, in the progress and series of things, occasion
a succession of the greatest and most important and extensive events; causing the state of
mankind to be vastly different from what it would otherwise have been, for all succeeding
generations.
For instance, the coming into existence of those particular men, who have been the great
conquerors of the world, which, under God, have had the main hand in all the consequent
state of the world, in all after-ages; such as Nebuchadnezzar, Cyrus, Alexander, Pompey,
Julius Caesar, &c. undoubtedly depended on many millions of acts of the will, in their parents.
And perhaps most of these Volitions depended on millions of Volitions in their contemporaries
of the same generation; and most of these on millions of millions of Volitions in preceding
generations.- As we go back, still the number of Volitions, which were some way
the occasion of the event, multiply as the branches of a river, until they come at last, as it
"were, to an infinite number. This will not seem strange to any one who well considers the
matter; if we recollect what philosophers tell us of the innumerable multitudes of those
things which are the principia, or stamina vitae, concerned in generation; the animalcula
in semine masculo, and the ova in the womb of the female; the impregnation or animating
of one of these in distinction from all the rest, must depend on things infinitely minute relating
to the time and circumstances of the act of the parents, the state of their bodies, &c.
which must depend on innumerable foregoing circumstances and occurrences; which must
depend, infinite ways, on foregoing acts of their wills; which are occasioned by innumerable
things that happen in the course of their lives, in which their own and their neighbor's behaviour
must have a hand, an infinite number of ways. And as the Volitions of others must
be so many ways concerned in the conception and birth of such men; so, no less, in their
preservation, and circumstances of life, their particular determinations and actions, on
which the great revolutions they were the occasions of, depended. As, for instance, when
the conspirators in Persia, against the Magi, were consulting about a succession to the empire,
it came into the mind of one of them, to propose, that he whose horse neighed first, when
they came together the next morning, should be king. Now, such a thing coming into his
mind, might depend on innumerable incidents, wherein the Volitions of mankind had been
concerned. But, in consequence of this accident, Darius, the son of Hystaspes, was king.
And if this had not been, probably his successor would not have been the same, and all the
circumstances of the Persian empire might have been far otherwise: Then perhaps Alexander
might never have conquered that empire; and then probably the circumstances of the world
in all succeeding ages, might have been vastly otherwise. I might further instance in many
other occurrences; such as those on which depended Alexander's preservation, in the many
critical junctures of his life, wherein a small trifle would have turned the scale against him;
and the preservation and success of the Roman people, in the infancy of their kingdom and
commonwealth, and afterwards; upon which all the succeeding changes in their state, and
the mighty revolutions that afterwards came to pass in the habitable world, depended. But
these hints may be sufficient for every discerning considerate person, to convince him, that
the whole state of the world of mankind, in all ages, and the very being of every person who
has ever lived in it, in every age, since the times of the ancient prophets, has depended on
more Volitions, or acts of the Wills of men, than there are sands on the sea-shore.
And therefore, unless God does most exactly and perfectly foresee the future acts of men's
Wills, all the predictions which he ever uttered concerning David, Hezekiah, Josiah,
Nebuchadnezzar, Cyrus, Alexander; concerning the four monarchies, and the revolutions
in them; and concerning all the wars, commotions, victories, prosperity, and calamities, of
any kingdoms, nations, or communities in the world, have all been without knowledge.
So that, according to this notion, God not foreseeing the Volitions and free actions of men,
he could foresee nothing appertaining to the state of the world of mankind in future ages;
not so much as the being of one person that should live in it: and could foreknow no events,
but only such as he would bring to pass himself by the extraordinary interposition of his
immediate power; or things which should come to pass in the natural material world, by
the laws of motion, and course of nature, wherein that is independent on the actions or
works of mankind: that is, as he might, like a very able mathematician and astronomer, with
great exactness calculate the revolutions of the heavenly bodies, and the greater wheels of
the machine of the external creation.
And if we closely consider the matter, there will appear reason to convince us, that he could
not, with any absolute certainty, foresee even these. As to the first, namely, things done by
the immediate and extraordinary interposition of God's power, these cannot be foreseen,
unless it can be foreseen when there shall be occasion for such extraordinary interposition.
And that cannot be foreseen, unless the state of the moral world can be foreseen. For
whenever God thus interposes, it is with regard to the state of the moral world, requiring
such divine interposition. Thus God could not certainly foresee the universal deluge, the
calling of Abraham, the destruction of Sodom and Gomorrah, the plagues on Egypt, and
Israel's redemption out of it, the expelling of the seven nations of Canaan, and the bringing
Israel into that land; for these all are represented as connected with things belonging to the
state of the moral world. Nor can God foreknow the most proper and convenient time of
the day of judgment and general conflagration; for that chiefly depends on the course and
state of things in the moral World.
Nor, Secondly, can we on this supposition reasonably think, that God can certainly foresee
what things shall come to pass, in the course of things, in the natural and material world,
even those which in an ordinary state of things might be calculated by a good astronomer.
For the moral world is the end of the natural world; and the course of things in the former,
is undoubtedly subordinate to God's designs with respect to the latter. Therefore he, has
seen cause, from regard to the state of things in the moral world, extraordinarily to interpose,
to interrupt, and lay an arrest on the course of things in the natural world; and unless he
can foresee the Volition of men, and so know something of the future state of the moral
world, he cannot know but that he may still have as great occasion to interpose in this
manner, as ever he had: nor can he foresee how, or when, he shall have occasion thus to
interpose.
Corol. 1. It appears from the things observed, that unless God foresees the Volition of
moral Agents, that cannot be true which is observed by the apostle James, (Acts xv. 18.) "Known unto God are all his works from the beginning of the world."
Corol. 2. It appears, that unless God foreknows the Volition of moral Agents, all the
prophecies of Scripture have no better foundation than mere conjecture; and that, in most
instances, a conjecture which must have the utmost uncertainty; depending on an innumerable
multitude of Volitions, which are all, even to God, uncertain events: however, these
prophecies are delivered as absolute predictions, and very many of them in the most positive
manner, with asseverations; and some of them with the most solemn oaths.
Corol. 3. It also follows, that if this notion of God's ignorance of future Volitions be true,
in vain did Christ say, after uttering many great and important predictions, depending on
men's moral actions, (Matt. xxiv. 35.) "Heaven and earth shall pass away; but my words
shall not pass away."
Corol. 4. From the same notion of God's ignorance, it would follow, that in vain has he
himself often spoken of the predictions of his word, as evidences of Foreknowledge; of that
which is his prerogative as GOD, and his peculiar glory, greatly distinguishing him from all
other beings; (as in Isa. xli. 22.- 26 xliii. 9, 10. xliv. 8. xlv. 21. xlvi. 10. and xlviii. 14.)
Arg. II. If God does not foreknow the Volitions of moral Agents, then he did not foreknow
the fall of man, nor of angels, and so could not foreknow the great things which are consequent
on these events; such as his sending his Son into the world to die for sinners, and
all things pertaining to the great work of redemption; all the things which were done for
four thousand years before Christ came, to prepare the way for it; and the incarnation, life,
death, resurrection, and ascension of Christ; setting Him at the head of the universe as King
of heaven and earth, angels and men; and setting up his church and kingdom in this world,
and appointing him the Judge of the world; and all that Satan should do in the world in
opposition to the kingdom of Christ: and the great transactions of the day of judgment, &c. And if God was thus ignorant, the following scriptures, and others like them, must be without
any meaning, or contrary to truth. (Eph. i. 4.) "According as he hath chosen us in him before
the foundation of the world." (1 Pet. i. 20.) "Who verily was foreordained before the
foundation of the world." (2 Tim. i. 9.) "who hath saved us, and called us with an holy calling;
not according to our works, but according to his own purpose, and grace, which was given
us in Christ Jesus before the world began." So ( Eph. iii. 11.) speaking of the wisdom of God
in the work of redemption, "according to the eternal purpose which he purposed in Christ
Jesus" (Tit. i. 2.) "In hope of eternal life, which God that cannot lie, promised before the
world began." (Rom. viii. 29.) "Whom he did foreknow, them he also did predestinate," &c. (1 Pet. i. 2.) "Elect, according to the foreknowledge of God the Father."
If God did not foreknow the fall of man, nor the redemption by Jesus Christ, nor the Volitions
of man since the fall; then he did not foreknow the saints in any sense; neither as particular
persons, nor as societies or nations; either by election, or by mere foresight of their virtue
or good works; or any foresight of any thing about them relating to their salvation; or any
benefit they have by Christ, or any manner of concern of theirs with a Redeemer.
Arg. III. On the supposition of God's ignorance of the future Volitions of free Agents, it will
follow, that God must in many cases truly repent what he has done, so as properly to wish
he had done otherwise: by reason that the event of things in those affairs which are most
important, viz. the affairs of his moral kingdom, being uncertain and contingent, often
happens quite otherwise than he was before aware of. And there would be reason to understand
that, in the most literal sense, (Gen. vi. 6.) "It repented the Lord, that he had made
man on the earth, and it grieved him at his heart," (and 1 Sam. xv. 11.) contrary to Num.xxiii. 19. "God is not the son of Man, that he should repent;" and 1 Sam. xv. 29. "Also the
Strength of Israel will not lie, nor repent; for he is not a man that he should repent." Yea,
from this notion it would follow, that God is liable to repent and be grieved at his heart, in
a literal sense, continually; and is always exposed to an infinite number of real disappointments
in governing the world; and to manifold, constant, great perplexity and vexation: but
this is not very consistent with his title of "God over all, blessed for evermore;" which represents
him as possessed of perfect, constant, and uninterrupted tranquillity and felicity, as
God over the universe, and in his management of the affairs of the world, as supreme and
universal ruler. (See Rom. i. 25. ix. 5. 2 Cor. xi. 31. 1 Tim. vi. 15.)
ARG. IV. It will also follow from this notion, that as God is liable to be continually repenting
of what he has done; so he must be exposed to be constantly changing his mind and intentions,
as to his future conduct; altering his measures, relinquishing his old designs, and
forming new schemes and projects. For his purposes, even as to the main parts of his scheme,
such as belong to the state of his moral kingdom, must be always liable to be broken, through
want of foresight; and he must be continually putting his system to rights, as it gets out of
order, through the contingence of the actions of moral Agents: he must be a Being, who,
instead of being absolutely immutable, must necessarily be the subject of infinitely the most
numerous acts of repentance, and changes of intention, of any being whatsoever; for this
plain reason, that his vastly extensive charge comprehends an infinitely greater number of
those things which are to him contingent and uncertain. In such a situation, he must have
little else to do, but to mend broken links as well as he can, and be rectifying his disjointed
frame and disordered movements, in the best manner the case will allow, The Supreme Lord
of all things must needs be under great and miserable disadvantages, in governing the world
which he has made, and of which he has the care, through his being utterly unable to find
out things of chief importance, which hereafter shall befall his system; for which, if he did
but know, he might make seasonable provision. In many cases, there may be very great necessity
that he should make provision, in the manner of his ordering and disposing things,
for some great events which are to happen, of vast and extensive influence, and endless
consequence to the universe; which he may see afterwards, when it is too late, and may wish
in vain that he had known before, that he might have ordered his affairs accordingly. And
it is in the power of man, on these principles, by his devices, purposes, and actions, thus to
disappoint God, break his measures, make him continually change his mind, subject him
to vexation, and bring him into confusion.
But how do these things consist with reason, or with the word of God? Which represents,
that all God's works, all that he has ever to do, the whole scheme and series of his operations,
are from the beginning perfectly in his view; and declares, that whatever devices and designs
are in the hearts of men, "the counsel of the Lord shall stand, and the thoughts of his heart
to all generations," (Prov. xix. 21. Psal. xxxiii. 10, 11.) And "that which the Lord of hosts
hath purposed, none shall disannul," (Isa. xiv. 27.) And that he cannot be frustrated in one
design or thought, (Job xlii. 2.) And "that which God doth, it shall be for ever, that nothing
can be put to it, or taken from it," (Eccl. iii. 14.) The stability and perpetuity of God's
counsels are expressly spoken of as connected with his foreknowledge, (Isa. xlvi. 10.) "Declaring
the end from the beginning, and from ancient times the things that are not yet done;
saying, My counsel shall stand, and I will do my pleasure." - And how are these things
consistent with what the Scripture says of God's immutability, which represents him as
"without variableness, or shadow of turning;" and speaks of him, most particularly, as unchangeable
with regard to his purposes, (Mal. iii. 6.) "I am the Lord; I change not; therefore
ye sons of Jacob are not consumed." (Exod. iii. 14.) "I AM THAT I AM. (Job xxiii. 13, 14.) "He is in one mind; and who can turn him? And what his soul desireth, even that he doth: for he performeth the thing that is appointed for me."
Arg. V. If this notion of God's ignorance of future Volitions of moral Agents be thoroughly
considered in its consequences, it will appear to follow from it, that God, after he had made
the world, was liable to be wholly frustrated of his end in the creation of it; and so has been,
in like manner, liable to be frustrated of his end in all the great works he had wrought. It is
manifest, the moral world is the end of the natural: the rest of the creation is but a house
which God hath built, with furniture, for moral Agents: and the good or bad state of the
moral world depends on the improvement they make of their natural Agency, and so depends
on their Volitions. And therefore, if these cannot be foreseen by God, because they are
contingent, and subject to no kind of necessity, then the affairs of the moral world are liable
to go wrong, to any assignable degree; yea, liable to be utterly ruined. As on this scheme, it
may well be supposed to be literally said, when mankind, by the abuse of their mortal Agency,
became very corrupt before the flood, "that the Lord repented that he had made man on
the earth, and it grieved him at his heart;" so, when he made the universe, he did not know
but that he might be so disappointed in it, that it might grieve him at his heart that he had
made it. It actually proved, that all mankind became sinful, and a very great part of the angels
apostatized: and how could God know before, that all of them would not? And how could
God know but that all mankind, notwithstanding means used to reclaim them, being still
left to the freedom of their own Will, would continue in their apostasy, and grow worse and
worse, as they of the old world before the flood did?
According to the scheme I am endeavouring to confute, the Fall of neither men nor angels
could be foreseen, and God must be greatly disappointed in these events; and so the grand
contrivance for our redemption, and destroying the works of the devil, by the Messiah, and
all the great things God has done in the prosecution of these designs, must be only the fruits
of his own disappointment; contrivances to mend, as well as he could, his system, which
originally was all very good, and perfectly beautiful; but was broken and confounded by the
free Will of angels and men. And still he must be liable to be totally disappointed a second
time: he could not know, that he should have his desired success, in the incarnation, life,
death, resurrection, and exaltation of his only-begotten Son, and other great works accomplished
to restore the state of things: he could not know, after all, whether there would actually
be any tolerable measure of restoration; for this depended on the free Will of man. There
has been a general great apostasy of almost all the Christian world, to that which was worse
than heathenism; which continued for many ages. And how could God, without foreseeing
men's Volitions, know whether ever Christendom would return from this apostasy? And
which way would he foretell how soon it would begin? The apostle says, it began to work
in his time; and how could it be known how far it would proceed in that age? Yea, how could
it be known that the gospel which was not effectual for the reformation of the Jews, would
ever be effectual for the turning of the heathen nations from their heathen apostasy, which
they had been confirmed in for so many ages?
It is represented often in Scripture, that God, who made the world for himself, and created
it for his pleasure, would infallibly obtain his end in the creation, and in all his works; that
as all things are of him, so they would all be to him; and that in the final issue of things it
would appear that he is "the first, and the last." (Rev. xxi. 6.) "And he said unto me, It is
done. I am Alpha and Omega, the beginning and the end, the first and the last." But these
things are not consistent with God's liability to be disappointed in all his works, nor indeed
with his failing of his end in any thing that he has undertaken.
Section XII.
God's certain foreknowledge of the future volitions of moral agents, inconsistent with
such a contingence of those volitions as is without all necessity.
Having proved, that GOD has a certain and infallible Prescience of the voluntary acts of
moral agents, I come now, in the second place, to show the consequence; how it follows
from hence, that these events are necessary, with a Necessity of connexion or consequence.
The chief Arminian divines, so far as I have had opportunity to observe, deny this consequence;
and affirm, that if such Foreknowledge be allowed, it is no evidence of any necessity
of the event foreknown. Now I desire, that this matter may be particularly and thoroughly
inquired into. I cannot but think that on particular and full consideration, it may be perfectly
determined, whether it be indeed so or not.
In order to a proper consideration of this matter, I would observe the following things.
l. It is very evident, that, with regard to a thing whose existence is infallibly and indissolubly
connected with something which already hath, or has had existence, the existence of that
thing is necessary. Here may be noted the following particulars:
1. I observed before, in explaining the nature of Necessity, that in things which are past,
their past existence is now necessary: having already made sure of existence, it is too late
for any possibility of alteration in that respect; it is now impossible that it should be otherwise
than true, that the thing has existed.
2. If there be any such thing as a divine Foreknowledge of the volitions of free agents, that
Foreknowledge, by the supposition is a thing which already has, and long ago had existence;
and so, now its existence is necessary; it is now utterly impossible to be otherwise, than that
this Foreknowledge should be or should have been.
3. It is also very manifest, that those things which are indissolubly connected with other
things that are necessary, are themselves necessary. As that proposition whose truth is necessarily
connected with another proposition, which is necessarily true, is itself necessarily
true. To say otherwise would be a contradiction: it would be in effect to say, that the connexion
was indissoluble, and yet was not so, but might be broken. If that, the existence of which
is indissolubly connected with something whose existence is now necessary, is itself not
necessary, then it may possibly not exist, notwithstanding that indissoluble connexion of
its existence.- Whether the absurdity be not glaring, let the reader judge.
4. It is no less evident, that if there be a full, certain, and infallible Foreknowledge of the future
existence of the volitions of moral agents, then there is a certain, infallible, and indissoluble
connexion between those events and that Foreknowledge; and that therefore, by the preceding
observations, those events are necessary events; being infallibly and indissolubly connected
with that, whose existence already is, and so is now necessary, and cannot but have been.
To say, the Foreknowledge is certain and infallible, and yet the connexion of the event with
that Foreknowledge is dissoluble and fallible, is very absurd. To affirm it, would be the same
thing as to affirm, that there is no necessary connexion between a proposition being infallibly
known to be true, and its being true indeed. So that it is perfectly demonstrable, that if there
be any infallible knowledge of future volitions, the event is necessary; or, in other words,
that it is impossible but the event should come to pass. For if it be not impossible but that
it may be otherwise, then it is not impossible but that the proposition which affirms its future
coming to pass, may not now be true. There is this absurdity in it, that it is not impossible,
but that there now should be no truth in that proposition, which is now infallibly known
to be true.
II. That no future event can be certainly foreknown, whose existence is contingent, and
without all Necessity, may be proved thus; it is impossible for a thing to be certainly known
to any intellect without evidence. To suppose otherwise, implies a contradiction: because
for a thing to be certainly known to any understanding, is for it to be evident to that understanding:
and for a thing to be evident to any understanding is the same thing, as for that
understanding to see evidence of it: but no understanding, created or uncreated, can see
evidence where there is none; for that is the same thing, as to see that to be which is not.
And therefore, if there be any truth which is absolutely without evidence, that truth is absolutely
unknowable, insomuch that it implies a contradiction to suppose that it is known.
But if there be any future event, whose existence is contingent, without all Necessity, the
future existence of the event is absolutely without evidence. If there be any evidence of it,
it must be one of these two sorts, either self-evidence or proof; an evident thing must be
either evident in itself; or evident in something else: that is, evident by connexion with
something else. But a future thing, whose existence is without all Necessity, can have neither
of these sorts of evidence. It cannot be self-evident: for if it be, it may be now known, by
what is now to be seen in the thing itself; its present existence, or the Necessity of its nature:
but both these are contrary to the supposition. It is supposed, both that the thing has no
present existence to be seen; and also that it is not of such a nature as to be necessarily existent
for the future: so that its future existence is not self-evident. And secondly, neither is there
any proof, or evidence in any thing else, or evidence of connexion with something else that
is evident; for this is also contrary to the supposition. It is supposed that there is now nothing
existent, with which the future existence of the contingent event is connected. For such a
connexion destroys its contingence, and supposes Necessity. Thus it is demonstrated, that
there is in the nature of things absolutely no evidence at all of the future existence of that
event, which is contingent, without all Necessity, (if any such event there be,) neither selfevidence
nor proof. And therefore the thing in reality is not evident; and so cannot be seen
to be evident, or, which is the same thing, cannot be known.
Let us consider this in an example. Suppose that five thousand seven hundred and sixty
years ago, there was no other being but the Divine Being; and then this world, or some
particular body or spirit, all at once starts out of nothing into being, and takes on itself a
particular nature and form; all in absolute Contingence, without any concern of God, or
any other cause, in the matter; without any manner of ground or reason of its existence; or
any dependence upon, or connexion at all with any thing foregoing: I say, that if this be
supposed, there was no evidence of that event beforehand. There was no evidence of it to
be seen in the thing itself; for the thing itself, as yet, was not. And there was no evidence of
it to be seen in any thing else; for evidence in something else, is connexion with something
else: but such connexion is contrary to the supposition. There was no evidence before, that
this thing would happen; for by the supposition, there was no reason why it should happen,
rather than something else, or rather than nothing. And if so, then all things before were
exactly equal, and the same, with respect to that and other possible things; there was no
preponderation, no superior weight or value; and therefore, nothing that could be of weight
or value to determine any understanding. The thing was absolutely without evidence, and
absolutely unknowable. An increase of understanding, or of the capacity of discerning, has
no tendency, and makes no advance, towards discerning any signs or evidences of it, let it
be increased never so much; yea, if it be increased infinitely. The increase of the strength of
sight may have a tendency to enable to discern the evidence which is far off, and very much
hid, and deeply involved in clouds and darkness; but it has no tendency to enable to discern
evidence where there is none. If the sight be infinitely strong, and the capacity of discerning
infinitely great, it will enable to see all that there is, and to see it perfectly, and with ease; yet
it has no tendency at all to enable a being to discern that evidence which is not; but on the
contrary, it has a tendency to enable to discern with great certainty that there is none.
III. To suppose the future volitions of moral agents not to be necessary events; or, which is
the same thing, events which it is not impossible but that they may not come to pass; and
yet to suppose that God certainly foreknows them, and knows all things; is to suppose God's
knowledge to be inconsistent with itself. For to say, that God certainly, and without all
conjecture, knows that a thing will infallibly be, which at the same time he knows to be so
contingent, that it may possibly not be, is to suppose his knowledge inconsistent with itself;
or that one thing he knows, is utterly inconsistent with another thing he knows. It is the
same as to say, he now knows a proposition to be of certain infallible truth, which he knows
to be of contingent uncertain truth. If a future volition is so without all Necessity, that
nothing hinders but it may not be, then the proposition which asserts its future existence,
is so uncertain, that nothing hinders, but that the truth of it may entirely fail. And if God
knows all things, he knows this proposition to be thus uncertain. And that is inconsistent
with his knowing that it is infallibly true; and so inconsistent with his infallibly knowing
that it is true. If the thing be indeed contingent, God views it so, and judges it to be contingent,
if he views things as they are. If the event be not necessary, then it is possible it may
never be: and if it be possible it may never be, God knows it may possibly never be; and that
is to know that the proposition, which affirms its existence, may possibly not be true; and
that is to know that the truth of it is uncertain; which surely is inconsistent with his knowing
it as a certain truth. If volitions are in themselves contingent events, without all Necessity,
then it is no argument of perfection of knowledge in any being to determine peremptorily
that they will be; but on the contrary, an argument of ignorance and mistake; because it
would argue, that he supposes that proposition to be certain, which in its own nature, and
all things considered, is uncertain and contingent. To say, in such a case, that God may have
ways of knowing contingent events which we cannot conceive of, is ridiculous; as much so,
as to say, that God may know contradictions to be true, for ought we know; or that he may
know a thing to be certain, and at the same time know it not to be certain, though we cannot
conceive how; because he has ways of knowing which we cannot comprehend.
Corol. 1. From what has been observed it is evident, that the absolute decrees of God are
no more inconsistent with human liberty, on account of any Necessity of the event, which
follows from such decrees, than the absolute Foreknowledge of God. Because the connexion
between the event and certain Foreknowledge, is as infallible and indissoluble, as between
the event and an absolute decree. That is, it is no more impossible, that the event and decree
should not agree together, than that the event and absolute Knowledge should disagree. The
connexion between the event and Foreknowledge is absolutely perfect, by the supposition: because it is supposed, that the certainty and infallibility of the knowledge is absolutely
perfect. And it being so, the certainty cannot be increased; and therefore the connexion,
between the Knowledge and thing known, cannot be increased; so that if a decree be added
to the Foreknowledge, it does not at all increase the connexion, or make it more infallible
and indissoluble. If it were not so, the certainty of Knowledge might be increased by the
addition of a decree; which is contrary to the supposition, which is, that the Knowledge is
absolutely perfect, or perfect to the highest possible degree.
There is as much impossibility but that the things which are infallibly foreknown, should
be, or, which is the same thing, as great a Necessity of their future existence, as if the event
were already written down, and was known and read by all mankind, through all preceding
ages, and there was the most indissoluble and perfect connexion possible between the writing
and the thing written. In such a case, it would be as impossible the event should fail of existence, as if it had existed already; and a decree cannot make an event surer or more necessary
than this.
And therefore, if there be any such Foreknowledge, as it has been proved there is, then Necessity
of connexion and consequence is not at all inconsistent with any liberty which man,
or any other creature, enjoys. And from hence it may be inferred, that absolute decrees,
which do not at all increase the necessity, are not inconsistent with the liberty which man
enjoys, on any such account, as that they make the event decreed necessary, and render it
utterly impossible but that it should come to pass. Therefore, if absolute decrees are inconsistent
with man's liberty as a moral agent, or his liberty in a state of probation, or any liberty
whatsoever that he enjoys, it is not on account of any Necessity which absolute decrees infer.
Dr. Whitby supposes, there is a great difference between God's foreknowledge, and his decrees,
with regard to necessity of future events. In his Discourse on the five points, (p. 474,
&c.) he says, God's Prescience has no influence at all on our actions.- Should God, says
he, by immediate revelation, give me the knowledge of the event of any man's state or actions,
would my knowledge of them have any influence upon his actions? Surely none at all.-
Our knowledge doth not affect the things we know, to make them more certain, or more
fixture, than they could be without it. Now, Foreknowledge in God is knowledge. As therefore
Knowledge has no influence on things that are, so neither has Foreknowledge on things that
shall be. And consequently, the Foreknowledge of any action that would be otherwise free,
cannot alter or diminish that freedom. Whereas God's decree of election is powerful and
active, and comprehends the preparation and exhibition of such means, as shall unfrustrably
produce the end.- Hence God's Prescience renders no actions necessary." And to this
purpose, (p. 473.) he cites Origen, where he says, "God's Prescience is not the cause of things
future, but their being future is the cause of God's Prescience that they will be:" and Le
Blanic, where he says, "This is the truest resolution of this difficulty, that Prescience is not
the cause that things are future; but their being future is the cause they are foreseen." In like
manner, Dr. Clark, in his Demonstration of the Being and Attributes of God, (p. 95 – 99.)
And the Author of The Freedom of the Will, in God and Creation, speaking to the like
purpose with Dr. Whitby, represents "Foreknowledge as having no more influence on things
known, to make them necessary, than after-knowledge, or to that purpose.
To all which I would say; that what is said about knowledge, its not having influence on the
thing known to make it necessary, is nothing to the purpose, nor does it in the least affect
the foregoing reasoning. Whether Prescience be the thing that makes event necessary or
no, it alters not the case. Infallible Foreknowledge may prove the Necessity of the event
foreknown, and yet not be the thing which causes the Necessity. If the foreknowledge be
absolute, this proves the event known to be necessary, or proves that it is impossible but
that the event should be, by some means or other, either by a decree, or some other way, if
there be any other way: because, as was said before, it is absurd to say, that a proposition is
known to be certainly and infallibly true, which yet may possibly prove not true.
The whole of the seeming force of this evasion lies in this; that, inasmuch as certain Foreknowledge
does not cause an event to be necessary, as a decree does; therefore it does not
prove it to be necessary, as a decree does. But there is no force in this arguing: for it is built
wholly on this supposition, that nothing can prove or be an evidence of a thing being necessary,
but that which has a causal influence to make it so. But this can never be maintained.
If certain Foreknowledge of the future existence of an event be not the thing which first
makes it impossible that it should fail of existence; yet it may, and certainly does demonstrate,
that it is impossible it should fail of it, however that impossibility comes. If Foreknowledge
be not the cause, but the effect of this impossibility, it may prove that there is such an impossibility,
as much as if it were the cause. It is as strong arguing from the effect to the cause,
as from the cause to the effect. It is enough, that an existence, which is infallibly foreknown,
cannot fail, whether that impossibility arises from the Foreknowledge, or is prior to it. It is
as evident as any thing can be, that it is impossible a thing, which is infallibly known to be
true, should prove not to be true; therefore there is a Necessity that it should be otherwise;
whether the Knowledge be the cause of this Necessity, or the Necessity the cause of the
Knowledge.
All certain knowledge, whether it be Foreknowledge or After-knowledge, or concomitant
knowledge, proves the thing known now to he necessary, by some means or other; or proves
that it is impossible it should now be otherwise than true.- I freely allow, that Foreknowledge
does not prove a thing to be necessary any more than After-knowledge: but then Afterknowledge,
which is certain and infallible, proves that it is now become impossible but that
the proposition known should be true. Certain After knowledge proves that it is now, by
some means or other, become impossible but that the proposition, which predicates past
existence on the event, should be true. And so does certain Foreknowledge prove, that now
in the time of the knowledge, it is, by some means or other, become impossible but that the
proposition, which predicates future existence on the event, should be true. The necessity
of the truth of the propositions, consisting in the present impossibility of the non-existence
of the event affirmed, in both cases, is the immediate ground of the certainty of the Knowledge;
there can be no certainty of knowledge without it.
There must be a certainty in things themselves, before they are certainly known, or which
is the same thing, known to be certain. For certainty of knowledge is nothing else but
knowing or discerning the certainty there is in the things themselves, which are known.
Therefore there must be a certainty in things to be a ground of certainty of knowledge, and
to render things capable of being known to be certain. And there is nothing but the necessity
of truth known, or its being impossible but that it should be true; or, in other words, the
firm and infallible connexion between the subject and predicate of the proposition that
contains that truth. All certainty of Knowledge consists in the view of the firmness of that
connexion. So God's certain foreknowledge of the future existence of any event, is his view
of the firm and indissoluble connexion of the subject and predicate of the proposition that
affirms its future existence. The subject is that possible event; the predicate is its future existence,
but if future existence be firmly and indissolubly connected with that event, then
the future existence of that event is necessary. If God certainly knows the future existence
of an event which is wholly contingent, and may possibly never be, then, he sees a firm
connexion between a subject and predicate that are not firmly connected; which is a contradiction.
I allow what Dr. Whitby says to be true, that mere Knowledge does not affect the thing
known, to make it more certain or more future. But yet, I say, it supposes and proves the
thing to be already, both future and certain; i. e. necessarily future. Knowledge of futurity,
supposes futurity; and a certain knowledge of futurity, supposes certain futurity, antecedent
to that certain Knowledge. But there is no other certain futurity of a thing, antecedent to
certainty of Knowledge, than a prior impossibility but that the thing should prove true; or,
which is the same thing, the necessity of the event.
I would observe one thing further; that if it be as those aforementioned writers suppose,
that God's Foreknowledge is not the cause, but the effect of the existence of the event foreknown;
this is so far from showing that this Foreknowledge doth not infer the Necessity of
the existence of that event, that it rather shows the contrary the more plainly. Because it
shows the existence of the event to be so settled and firm, that it is as if it had already been;
inasmuch as in effect it actually exists already; its future existence has already had actual
influence and efficiency, and has produced an effect, viz. Prescience: the effect exists already;
and as the effect supposes the cause, and depends entirely upon it, therefore it is as if the
future event, which is the cause, had existed already. The effect is firm as possible, it having
already the possession of existence, and has made sure of it. But the effect cannot be more
firm and stable than its cause, ground, and reason. The building cannot be firmer than the
foundation.
I To illustrate this matter; let us suppose the appearances and images of things in a glass,
for instance, a reflecting telescope, to be the real effects of heavenly bodies (at a distance,
and out of sight) which they resemble: if it be so, then, as these images in the telescope have
had a past actual existence, and it is become utterly impossible now that it should be otherwise
than that they have existed; so they being the true effects of the heavenly bodies they resemble,
this proves the existence of those heavenly bodies to be as real, infallible, firm, and necessary,
as the existence of these effects; the one being connected with, and wholly depending on
the other.- Now let us suppose future existences, some way or other, to have influence
back, to produce effects beforehand, and cause exact and perfect images of themselves in a
glass, a thousand years before they exist, yea, in all preceding ages; but yet that these images
are real effects of these future existences, perfectly dependent on, and connected with their
cause. These effects and images having already had actual existence, render that matter of
their existence perfectly firm and stable, and utterly impossible to be otherwise; and this
proves, as in the other instance, that the existence of the things, which are their causes, is
also equally sure, firm, and necessary; and that it is alike impossible but that they should be,
as if they had been already, as their effects have. And if instead of images in a glass, we suppose
the antecedent effects to be perfect ideas of them in the Divine Mind, which have existed
there from all eternity, which are as properly effects, as truly and properly connected with
their cause, the case is not altered.
Another thing which has been said by some Arminians, to take off the force of what is urged
from God's Prescience, against the continuance of the volitions of moral agents, is to this
purpose; "That when we talk of Foreknowledge in God, there is no strict propriety in our
so speaking; and that although it be true, that there is in God the most perfect Knowledge
of all events from eternity to eternity, yet there is no such thing as before and after in God,
but he sees all things by one perfect unchangeable view, without any succession." - To this
I answer:
1. It has been already shown, that all certain Knowledge proves the Necessity of the truth
known; whether it be before, after, or at the same time.- Though it be true, that there is no
succession in God's Knowledge, and the manner of his Knowledge is to us inconceivable,
yet thus much we know concerning it, that there is no event, past, present, or to come, that
God is ever uncertain of. He never is, never was, and never will be without infallible
Knowledge of it; he always sees the existence of it to be certain and infallible. And as he always
sees things just as they are in truth; hence there never is in reality any thing contingent in
such a sense, as that possibly it may happen never to exist. If, strictly speaking, there is no
Foreknowledge in God, it is because those things, which are future to us, are as present to
God, as if they already had existence: and that is as much as to say, that future events are
always in God's view as evident, clear, sure, and necessary, as if they already were. If there
never is a time wherein the existence of the event is not present with God, then there never
is a time wherein it is not as much impossible for it to fail of existence, as if its existence
were present, and were already come to pass.
God viewing things so perfectly and unchangeably, as that there is no succession in his ideas
or judgment, does not hinder but that there is properly now, in the mind of God, a certain
and perfect Knowledge of the moral actions of men, which to us are an hundred years hence: yea the objection supposes this; and therefore it certainly does not hinder but that, by the
foregoing arguments, it is now impossible these moral actions should not come to pass.
We know, that God foreknows the future voluntary actions of men, in such a sense, as that
he is able particularly to foretell them, and cause them to be recorded, as he often has done;
and therefore that necessary connexion which there is between God's Knowledge and the
event known, as much proves the event to be necessary beforehand, as if the Divine Knowledge
were in the same sense before the event, as the prediction or writing is. If the Knowledge
be infallible, then the expression of it in the written prediction is infallible; that is, there is
an infallible connexion between that written prediction and the event. And if so, then it is
impossible it should ever be otherwise, than that the prediction and the event should agree: and this is the same thing as to say, it is impossible but that the event should come to pass: and this is the same as to say that its coming to pass is necessary.- So that it is manifest, that there being no proper succession in God's mind, makes no alteration as to the Necessity
of the existence of the events known. Yea,
2. This is so far from weakening the proof, given of the impossibility of future events known,
not coming to pass, as that it establishes the foregoing arguments, and shows the clearness
of the evidence. For,
(1.) The very reason, why God's Knowledge is without succession, is, because it is absolutely
perfect, to the highest possible degree of clearness and certainty. All things, whether past,
present, or to come, being viewed with equal evidence and fulness; future things being seen
with as much clearness, as if they were present; the view is always in absolute perfection;
and absolute constant perfection admits of no alteration, and so no succession; the actual
existence of the thing known, does not at all increase or add to the clearness or certainty of
the thing known: God calls the things that are not, as though they were; they are all one to
him as if they had already existed. But herein consists the strength of the demonstration
before given; that it is as impossible they should fail of existence, as if they existed already.
This objection, instead of weakening the argument, sets it in the strongest light; for it supposes
it to be so indeed, that the existence of future events is in God's view so much as if it already
had been, that when they come actually to exist, it makes not the least alteration or variation
in his knowledge of them.
(2.) The objection is founded on the immutability of God's knowledge: for it is the immutability
of Knowledge that makes it to be without succession. But this most directly and
plainly demonstrates the thing I insist on, viz. that it is utterly impossible the known events
should fail of existence. For if that were possible, then a change in God's Knowledge and
view of things, were possible. For if the known event should not come into being, as God
expected, then he would see it, and so would change his mind, and see his former mistake;
and thus there would be change and succession in his knowledge. But as God is immutable,
and it is infinitely impossible that His view should be changed; so it is, for the same reason,
just so impossible that the foreknown event should not exist; and that is to be impossible
in the highest degree; and therefore the contrary is necessary. Nothing is more impossible
than that the immutable God should be changed, by the succession of time; who comprehends
all things, from eternity to eternity, in one, most perfect, and unalterable view; so that his
whole eternal duration is vitae interminabilis, tota, simul et perfecta possessio.
On the whole, I need not fear to say, that there is no geometrical theorem or proposition
whatsoever, more capable of strict demonstration, than that God's certain Prescience of the
volitions of moral agents is inconsistent with such a Contingence of these events, as is
without all Necessity; and so is inconsistent with the Arminian notion of liberty.
Corol. 2. Hence the doctrine of the Calvinists, concerning the absolute decrees of God, does
not all infer any more fatality in things, than will demonstrably follow from the doctrine of
the most Arminian divines, who acknowledge God's omniscience, and universal Prescience.
Therefore all objections they make against the doctrine of the Calvinists, as implying Hobbes's
doctrine of Necessity, or the stoical doctrine of fate, lie no more against the doctrine of
Calvinists, than their own doctrine: and therefore it doth not become those divines, to raise
such an outcry against the Calvinists, on this account.
Corol. 3. Hence all arguments of Arminians, who own God's omniscience, against the doctrine
of the inability of unregenerate men to perform the conditions of salvation, and the
commands of God requiring spiritual duties, and against the Calvinistic doctrine of efficacious
grace; on this ground, that those doctrines, though they do not suppose men to be under
any constraint or coaction, yet suppose them under Necessity, must fall to the ground. And
their arguments against the necessity of men's volitions, taken from the reasonableness of
God's commands, promises, and threatenings, and the sincerity of his counsels and invitations;
and all objections against any doctrines of the Calvinists as being inconsistent with
human liberty, because they infer Necessity; I say, all these arguments and objections must
be justly esteemed vain and frivolous, as coming from them; being leveled against their own
doctrine, as well as against that of the Calvinists.
Section XIII.
Whether we suppose the volitions of moral Agents to be connected with any thing
antecedent, or not, yet they must be necessary in such a sense as to overthrow Arminian
liberty.
Every act of the Will has a cause, or it has not. If it has a cause, then, according to what has
already been demonstrated, it is not contingent, but necessary; the effect being necessarily
dependent and consequent on its cause, let that cause be what it will. If the cause is the Will
itself, by antecedent acts choosing and determining; still the determined caused act must
be a necessary effect. The act, that is the determined effect of the foregoing act which is its
cause, cannot prevent the efficiency of its cause; but must be wholly subject to its determination
and command, as much as the motions of the hands and feet. The consequent commanded
acts of the Will are as passive and as necessary, with respect to the antecedent determining
acts, as the parts of the body are to the volitions which determine and command
them. And therefore, if all the free acts of the will are all determined effects determined by
the will itself, that is by antecedent choice, then they are all necessary; they are all subject
to, and decisively fixed by, the foregoing act, which is their cause: yea, even the determining
act itself; for that must be determined and fixed by another act preceding, if it be a free and
voluntary act; and so must be necessary. So that by this, all the free acts of the will are necessary,
and cannot be free unless they are necessary: because they cannot be free, according
to the Arminian notion of freedom, unless they are determined by the Will; and this is to
be determined by antecedent choice, which being their cause, proves them necessary. And
yet they say, Necessity is utterly inconsistent with Liberty. So that, by their scheme, the acts
of the will cannot be free unless they are necessary, and yet cannot be free if they be necessary!
But if the other part of the dilemma be taken, that the free acts of the Will have no cause,
and are connected with nothing whatsoever that goes before and determines them, in order
to maintain their proper and absolute Contingence, and this should be allowed to be possible;
still it will not serve their turn. For if the volition come to pass by perfect Contingence, and
without any cause at all, then it is certain, no act of the Will, no prior act of the soul, was
the cause, no determination or choice of the soul had any hand in it. The will, or the soul,
was indeed the subject of what happened to it accidentally, but was not the cause. The Will
is not active in causing or determining, but purely the passive subject; at least, according to
their notion of action and passion. In this case, Contingence as much prevents the determination
of the Will, as a proper cause; and as to the Will, it was necessary, and could be no
otherwise. For to suppose that it could have been otherwise, if the Will or soul had pleased,
is to suppose that the act is dependent on some prior act of choice or pleasure, contrary to
what is now supposed; it is to suppose that it might have been otherwise, if its cause had
ordered it otherwise. But this does not agree to it having no cause or orderer at ail. That
must be necessary as to the soul, which is dependent on no free act of the soul: but that
which is without a cause, is dependent on no free act of the soul; because, by the supposition,
it is dependent on nothing, and is connected with nothing. In such a case, the soul is necessarily
subjected to what accident brings to pass, from time to time, as much as the earth that
is inactive, is necessarily subjected to what falls upon it. But this does not consist with the
Arminian notion of Liberty, which is the Will's power of determining itself in its own acts,
and being wholly active in it, without passiveness, and without being subject to necessity.-
Thus, Contingence belongs to the Arminian notion of Liberty, and yet is inconsistent with
it.
I would here observe, that the author of the Essay on the Freedom of the Will, in God and
the Creature, (p. 76, 77.) says as follows. "The word chance always means something done
without design. Chance and design stand in direct opposition to each other: and Chance
can never be properly applied to acts of the will, which is the spring of all design, and which
designs to choose whatsoever it doth choose, whether there be any superior fitness in the
thing which it chooses, or no; and it designs to determine itself to one thing, where two
things, perfectly equal, are proposed, merely because it will." But herein appears a very great
inadvertence. For if the will be the spring of all design, as he says, then certainly it is not always
the effect of design; and the acts of the will themselves must sometimes come to pass,
when they do not spring from design; and consequently come to pass by chance, according
to his own definition of Chance. And if the will designs to choose whatever it does choose,
and designs to determine itself, as he says, then it designs to determine all its designs. Which
carries us back from one design to a foregoing design determining that, and to another determining
that; and so on in infinitum. The very first design must be the effect of foregoing
design, or else it must be by Chance, in his notion of it.
Here another alternative may be proposed, relating to the connexion of the acts of the Will
with something foregoing that is their cause, not much unlike to the other; which is this: either human liberty may well stand with volitions being necessarily connected with the
views of the understanding, and so is consistent with Necessity; or it is inconsistent with
and contrary to such a connexion and Necessity. The former is directly subversive of the
Arminian notion of Liberty, consisting in freedom from all Necessity. And if the latter be
chosen, and it be said, that liberty is inconsistent with any such necessary connexion of volition
with foregoing views of the understanding, it consisting in freedom from any such
Necessity of the Will as that would imply; then the Liberty of the soul consists, partly at
least, in freedom from restraint, limitation, and government, in its actings, by the understanding,
and in Liberty and liableness to act contrary to the views and dictates of the understanding: and consequently the more the soul has of this disengagedness in its acting, the
more Liberty. Now let it be considered to what this brings the noble principle of human
Liberty, particularly when it is possessed and enjoyed in its perfection, viz. a full and perfect
freedom and liableness to act altogether at random, without the least connexion with, or
restraint or government by, any dictate of reason, or any thing whatsoever apprehended,
considered, or viewed by the understanding; as being inconsistent with the full and perfect
sovereignty of the Will over its own determinations.- The notion mankind have conceived
of Liberty, is some dignity or privilege, something worth claiming. But what dignity or
privilege is there, in being given up to such a wild Contingence as this, to be perfectly and
constantly liable to act unreasonably, and as much without the guidance of understanding,
as if we had none, or were as destitute of perception, as the smoke that is driven by the wind!
PART III.
WHEREIN IS INQUIRED WHETHER ANY SUCH LIBERTY OF WILL AS
ARMINIANS HOLD, BE NECESSARY TO MORAL AGENCY, VIRTUE, PRAISE,
AND DISPRAISE, &C.
Section I.
God's moral Excellency necessary, yet virtuous and praiseworthy.
Having considered the first thing proposed, relating to that freedom of Will which
Arminians maintain; namely, Whether any such thing does, ever did, or ever can exist, I
come now to the second thing proposed to be the subject of inquiry, viz. Whether any such
kind of liberty be requisite to moral agency, virtue and vice, praise and blame, reward and
punishment, &c.
I shall begin with some consideration of the virtue and agency of the Supreme moral Agent,
and Fountain of all Agency and Virtue.
Dr. Whitby in his Discourse on the five Points, (p. 14.) says, "If all human actions are necessary,
virtue and vice must be empty names; we being capable of nothing that is blameworthy,
or deserveth praise; for who can blame a person for doing only what he could not help, or
judge that he deserveth praise only for what he could not avoid?" To the like purpose he
speaks in places innumerable; especially in his Discourse on the Freedom of the Will; constantly
maintaining, that a freedom not only from coaction, but necessity, is absolutely requisite,
in order to actions being either worthy of blame, or deserving of praise. And to this
agrees, as is well known, the current doctrine of Arminian writers, who, in general, hold,
that there is no virtue or vice, reward or punishment, nothing to be commended or blamed,
without this freedom. And yet Dr. Whitby (p. 300.) allows, that God is without this freedom;
and, Arminians, so far as I have had opportunity to observe, generally acknowledge, that
God is necessarily holy, and his will necessarily determined to that which is good.
So that, putting these things together, the infinitely holy God - who always used to be esteemed
by God's people not only virtuous, but a Being in whom is all possible virtue, in the
most absolute purity and perfection, brightness and amiableness; the most perfect pattern
of virtue, and from whom all the virtue of others is but as beams from the sun; and who has
been supposed to be, (being thus every where represented in Scripture,) on the account of
his virtue and holiness, infinitely more worthy to be esteemed, loved, honoured, admired,
commended, extolled, and praised, than any creature - this Being, according to this notion
of Dr. Whitby, and other Arminians, has no virtue at all; virtue, when ascribed to him, is
but an empty name; and he is deserving of no commendation or praise; because he is under
necessity, he cannot avoid being holy and good as he is; therefore no thanks to him for it.
It seems, the holiness, justice, faithfulness, &c. of the Most High, must not be accounted to
be of the nature of that which is virtuous and praiseworthy. They will not deny, that these
things in God are good; but then we must understand them, that they are no more virtuous,
or of the nature of any thing commendable, than the good that is in any other being that is
not a moral agent as the brightness of the sun, and the fertility of the earth, are good, but
not virtuous, because these properties are necessary to these bodies, and not the fruit of selfdetermining
power.
There needs no other confutation of this notion, to Christians acquainted with the Bible,
but only stating and particularly representing it. To bring texts of Scripture, wherein God
is represented, as in every respect, in the highest manner virtuous, and supremely praiseworthy,
would be endless, and is altogether needless to such as have been brought up in the
light of the gospel.
It were to be wished, that Dr. Whitby and other divines of the same sort, had explained
themselves, when they have asserted, that that which is necessary, is not deserving of praise;
at the same time that they have owned God's perfection to be necessary, and so in effect
representing God as not deserving praise. Certainly, if their words have any meaning at all,
by praise, they must mean the exercise or testimony of esteem, respect, or honourable regard.
And will they then say, that men are worthy of that esteem, respect, and honour for their
virtue, small and imperfect as it is, which yet God is not worthy of, for his infinite righteousness,
holiness, and goodness? If so, it must be, because of some sort of peculiar excellency
in the virtuous man, which is his prerogative, wherein he really has the preference; some
dignity, that is entirely distinguished from any Excellency or amiableness in God; not in
dependence, but in pre-eminence; which therefore he does not receive from God, nor is
God the fountain or pattern of it; nor can God, in that respect, stand in competition with
him, as the object of honour and regard; but man may claim a peculiar esteem, commendation,
and glory, to which God can have no pretension. Yea, God has no right, by virtue of
his necessary holiness, to intermeddle with that grateful respect and praise, due to the virtuous
man, who chooses virtue, in the exercise of a freedom ad utrumque; any more than a precious
stone, which cannot avoid being hard and beautiful.
And if it be so, let it be explained what that peculiar respect is, that is due to the virtuous
man, which differs in nature and kind, in some way of pre-eminence, from all that is due
to God. What is the name or description of that peculiar affection? Is it esteem, love, admiration,
honour, praise, or gratitude? The Scripture every where represents God as the highest
object of all these: there we read of the soul magnifying the Lord, of "loving him with all the
heart, with all the soul, with all the mind, and with all the strength;" admiring him, and his
righteous acts, or greatly regarding them, as marvelous and wonderful; honouring, glorifying,
exalting, extolling, blessing, thanking, and praising him; giving unto him all the glory of the
good which is done or received, rather than unto men; "that no flesh should glory in his
presence;" but that he should be regarded as the Being to whom all glory is due. What then
is that respect? What passion, affection, or exercise is it, that Arminians call praise, diverse
from all these things, which men are worthy of for their virtue, and which God is not worthy
of, in any degree?
If that necessity which attends God's moral perfections and actions, be as inconsistent with
being worthy of praise, as a necessity of co-action; as is plainly implied in, or inferred from,
Dr. Whitby's discourse; then why should we thank God for his goodness, any more than if
he were forced to be good, or any more than we should thank one of our fellow-creatures
who did us good, not freely, and of good will, or from any kindness of heart, but from mere
compulsion, or extrinsical necessity? Arminians suppose, that God is necessarily a good
and gracious being; for this they make the ground of some of their main arguments against
many doctrines maintained by Calvinists; they say, these are certainly false, and it is impossible
they should be true, because they are not consistent with the goodness of God. This
supposes, that it is impossible but that God should be good: for if it be possible that he should
be otherwise, then that impossibility of the truth of these doctrines ceases according to their
own argument.
That virtue in God is not, in the most proper sense, rewardable, is not for want of merit in
his moral perfections and actions, sufficient to deserve rewards from his creatures; but because
he is infinitely above all capacity of receiving any reward. He is already infinitely and
unchangeably happy, and we cannot be profitable unto him. But still he is worthy of our
supreme benevolence for his virtue: and would be worthy of our beneficence, which is the
fruit and expression of benevolence, if our goodness could extend to him. If God deserves
to be thanked and praised for his goodness, he would, for the same reason, deserve that we
should also requite his kindness, if that were possible. "What shall I render unto the Lord
for all his benefits?" is the natural language of thankfulness: and so far as in us lies, it is our
duty to render again according to benefits received. And that we might have opportunity
for so natural an expression of our gratitude to God, as beneficence, notwithstanding his
being infinitely above our reach, he has appointed others to be his receivers, and to stand
in his stead, as the objects of our beneficence; such are especially our indigent brethren.
Section II.
The Acts of the Will of the human soul of Jesus Christ, necessarily holy, yet truly virtuous,
praise-worthy, rewardable, &c.
I HAVE already considered how Dr. Whitby insists upon it, that a freedom, not only from
coaction, but necessity, is requisite either to virtue or vice, praise or dispraise, reward or
punishment. He also insists on the same freedom as absolutely requisite to a person being
the subject of a law, of precepts, or prohibitions; in the book before mentioned, (p. 301, 314,
328, 339, 340, 341, 342, 347, 361, 373, 410.) And of promises and threatenings, (p. 298, 301,
305, 311, 339, 340, 363.) And as requisite to a state of trial, p. 297, &c.
Now, therefore, with an eye to these things, I would inquire into the moral conduct and
practices of our Lord Jesus Christ, which he exhibited in his human nature, in his state of
humiliation. And first, I would show, that His holy behaviour was necessary; or that it was
impossible it should be otherwise, than that he should behave Himself holy, and that he
should he perfectly holy in each individual act of his life. And secondly, that his holy behaviour
was properly of the nature of virtue, and was worthy of praise; and that he was the
subject of law, precept, or commands, promises and rewards; and that he was in a state of
trial.
I. It was impossible, that the Acts of the will of Christ's human soul should, in any instance,
degree, or circumstance, be otherwise than holy, and agreeable to God's nature and Will.
The following things make this evident.
1. God had promised so effectually to preserve and up hold him by his Spirit, under all his
temptations, that he could not fail of the end for which he came into the world; but he would
have failed, had he fallen into sin. We have such a promise, (Isa. xliii. 1 – 4.) "Behold my
Servant, whom I uphold; mine Elect, in whom my soul delighteth: I have put my Spirit upon
him: he shall bring forth judgment to the Gentiles: he shall not cry, nor lift up, nor cause
his voice to be heard in the street.- He shall bring forth judgment unto truth. He shall not
fail, nor be discouraged, till he have set judgment in the earth; and the isles shall wait his
law." This promise of God's Spirit put upon him, and his not crying and lifting up his voice,
&c. relates to the time of Christ's appearance on earth; as is manifest from the nature of the
promise, and also the application of it in the New Testament, (Matt. xii. 18.) And the words
imply a promise of his being so upheld by God's Spirit, that he should be preserved from
sin; particularly from pride and vain-glory; and from being overcome by any temptations
he should be under to affect the glory of this world, the pomp of an earthly prince, or the
applause and praise of men: and that he should be so upheld, that he should by no means
fail of obtaining the end of his coming into the world, of bringing forth judgment unto victory,
and establishing his kingdom of grace in the earth. And in the following verses, this
promise is confirmed, with the greatest imaginable solemnity. "Thus saith the Lord, he that
created the heavens, and stretched them out; he that spread forth the earth, and that which
cometh out of it; he that giveth breath unto the people upon it, and spirit to them that walk
therein: I the Lord have called thee in righteousness, and will hold thine hand; and will keep
thee, and give thee for a Covenant of the people, for a Light of the Gentiles, to open the
blind eyes, to bring out the prisoners from the prison, and them that sit in darkness out of
the prison-house. I am JEHOVAH, that is my name," &c.
Very parallel with these promises is another, (Isa. xlix. 7, 8, 9.) which also has an apparent
respect to the time of Christ's humiliation on earth.- "Thus saith the Lord, the Redeemer
of Israel, and his Holy One, to him whom man despiseth, to him whom the nation abhorreth,
to a servant of rulers; kings shall see and arise, princes also shall worship; because of the
Lord that is faithful, and the Holy One of Israel, and he shall choose thee. Thus saith the
Lord, in an acceptable time have I heard thee; in a day of salvation have I helped thee; and
I will preserve thee, and give thee for a covenant of the people, to establish the earth," &.c.
And in Isa. 50:5, 6. we have the Messiah expressing his assurance, that God would help him,
by so opening his ear, or inclining his heart to God's commandments, that he should not
be rebellious, but should persevere, and not apostatize, or turn his back: that through God's
help, he should be immovable in obedience, under great trials of reproach and suffering;
setting his face like a flint: so that he knew he should not be ashamed, or frustrated in his
design; and finally should be approved and justified, as having done his work faithfully.
"The Lord hath opened mine ear; so that I was not rebellious, neither turned away my back: I gave my back to the smiters, and my cheeks to them that plucked off the hair; I hid not
my face from shame and spitting. For the Lord God will help me; therefore shall I not be
confounded: therefore have I set my face as a flint, and I know that I shall not be ashamed.
He is near that justifieth me: who will contend with me? Let us stand together. Who is mine
adversary? Let him come near to me. Behold the Lord God will help me: who is he that shall
condemn me? Lo, they shall all wax old as a garment, the moth shall eat them up."
2. The same thing is evident from all the promises which God made to the Messiah, of his
future glory, kingdom, and success, in his office and character of a Mediator: which glory
could not have been obtained, if his holiness had failed, and he had been guilty of sin. God's
absolute promise makes the things promised necessary, and their failing to take place absolutely
impossible: and, in like manner, it makes those things necessary, on which the thing
promised depends, and without which it cannot take effect. Therefore it appears, that it was
utterly impossible that Christ's holiness should fail, from such absolute promises as these,
(Psal. cx. 4.) "The Lord hath sworn, and will not repent, thou art a priest for ever, after the
order of Melchizedek." And from every other promise in that psalm, contained in each verse
of it. (And Psal. ii. 6, 7.) "I will declare the decree: The Lord hath said unto me, Thou art
my Son, this day have I begotten thee: Ask of me, and I will give thee the heathen for thine
inheritance," &c. (Psal. xlv. 3, 4, &c.) " Gird thy sword on thy thigh, O most mighty, with
thy glory and thy majesty; and in thy majesty ride prosperously." And so every thing that
is said from thence to the end of the psalm. (See Isa. iii. 13 – 15. and liii. 10 – 12.) And all
those promises which God makes to the Messiah, of success, dominion, and glory in the
character of a Redeemer, (Isa. chap. xlix.)
3. It was often promised to the church of God of old, for their comfort, that God would give
them a righteous, sinless Saviour. (Jer. xxiii. 5, 6.) "Behold, the days come, saith the Lord,
that I will rise up unto David a righteous branch; and a king shall reign and prosper, and
shall execute judgment and justice in the earth. In his days shall Judah be saved, and Israel
shall dwell safely. And this is the name whereby he shall be called, The Lord our righteousness." (So, Jer. xxxiii. 15.) "I will cause the branch of righteousness to grow up unto David,
and he shall execute judgment and righteousness in the land." (Isa. xi. 6, 7.) "For unto us a
child is born; - upon the throne of David and of his kingdom, to order it and to establish
it with judgment and justice, from henceforth, even for ever: the zeal of the Lord of hosts
will do this." (Chap. xi. 1, &c.) "There shall come forth a rod out of the stem of Jesse, and a
branch shall grow out of his roots; and the Spirit of the Lord shall rest upon him,- the
spirit of knowledge, and the fear of the Lord: - with righteousness shall he judge the poor,
and reprove with equity: - Righteousness shall be the girdle of his loins, and faithfulness
the girdle of his reins." (Chap. lii. 13.) "My servant shall deal prudently." (Chap. liii. 9.)
"Because he had done no violence, neither was guile found in his mouth." If it be impossible,
that these promises should fail, and it be easier for heaven and earth to pass away, than for
one jot or tittle of them to pass away, then it was impossible that Christ should commit any
sin.- Christ himself signified, that it was impossible but that the things which were spoken
concerning him, should be fulfilled. (Luke xxiv. 44.) "That all things must be fulfilled, which
were written in the law of Moses, and in the prophets, and in the psalms concerning me." (Matt. xxvi. 53, 54.) "But how then shall the scripture be fulfilled, that thus it must be?" (Mark xiv. 49.) "But the scriptures must be fulfilled.' And so the apostle, (Acts i. 16, 17.) "This scripture must needs have been fulfilled."
4. All the promises, which were made to the church of old, of the Messiah as a future Saviour,
from that made to our first parents in paradise, to that which was delivered by the prophet
Malachi show it to be impossible that Christ should not have persevered in perfect holiness.
The ancient predictions given to God's church, of the Messiah as a Saviour, were of the
nature of promises; as is evident by the predictions themselves, and the manner of delivering
them. But they are expressly and very often called promises in the New Testament; (as in
Luke i. 54, 55, 72, 73. Acts xiii. 32, 33. Rom. i. 1 – 3. and chap. xv. 8. Heb. vi. 13, &c.) These
promises were often made with great solemnity, and confirmed with an oath; as, (Gen. xxii.16, 17.), "By myself have I sworn, saith the Lord, that in blessing I will bless thee, and in
multiplying I will multiply thy seed, as the stars of heaven, and as the sand which is upon
the sea-shore: - And in thy seed shall all the nations of the earth be blessed." (Compare
Luke i. 72, 73. and Gal. iii. 8, 15, 16.) The apostle in Heb. vi. 17, 18. speaking of this promise
to Abraham, says, "Wherein God willing more abundantly to show to the heirs of promise
the immutability of his counsel, confirmed it by an oath; that by two IMMUTABLE things,
in which it was IMPOSSIBLE for God to lie, we might have strong consolation." In which
words, the necessity of the accomplishment, or (which is the same thing) the impossibility
of the contrary, is fully declared. So God confirmed the promise of the Messiah's great salvation,
made to David, by an oath; (Psal. lxxxix. 3, 4.) "I have made a covenant with my
chosen, I have sworn unto David my servant; thy seed will I establish for ever, and build up
thy throne to all generations." There is nothing so abundantly set forth in Scripture, as sure
and irrefragable, as this promise and oath to David. (See Psalm. lxxxix. 34 – 36. 2 Sam. xxiii.
5. Isa. lv. 4. Acts ii. 29, 30. and xiii. 34.) The Scripture expressly speaks of it as utterly impossible
that this promise and oath to David, concerning the everlasting dominion of the
Messiah, should fail. (Jer. xxxiii. 15, &c.) "In those days, and at that time, I will cause the
Branch of righteousness to grow up unto David.- For thus saith the Lord, David shall
never want a man to sit upon the throne of the house of Israel." (Ver. 20, 21.) "If you can
break my covenant of the day, and my covenant of the night, and that there should not be
day and night in their season; then may also my covenant be broken with David my servant,
that he should not have a son to reign upon his throne." (So in ver. 25, 26.) Thus abundant
is the Scripture in representing how impossible it was, that the promises made of old concerning
the great salvation and kingdom of the Messiah should fail: which implies, that it
was impossible that this Messiah, the second Adam, the promised seed of Abraham, and of
David, should fall from his integrity, as the first Adam did.
5. All the promises that were made to the church of God under the Old Testament, of the
great enlargement of the church, and advancement of her glory, in the days of the gospel,
after the coming of the Messiah; the increase of her light, liberty, holiness, joy, triumph over
her enemies, &c. of which so great a part of the Old Testament consists; which are repeated
so often, are so variously exhibited, so frequently introduced with great pomp and solemnity,
and are so abundantly sealed with typical and symbolical representations; I say, all these
promises imply, that the Messiah should perfect the work of redemption: and this implies,
that he should persevere in the work, which the Father had appointed him, beings in all
things conformed to his Will. These promises were often confirmed by an oath. (See Isa.
liv. 9. with the context; chap. lxii. 18.) And it is represented as utterly impossible that these
promises should fail. (Isa. xlix. 15. with the context, chap. liv. 10. with the context; chap. li. 4 – 8. chap. xl. 8. with the context.) And therefore it was impossible that the Messiah should
fail, or commit sin.
6. It was impossible that the Messiah should fail of persevering in integrity and holiness, as
the first Adam did, because this would have been inconsistent with the promises, which
God made to the blessed Virgin, his mother, and to her husband; implying, that he should
"save his people from their sins," that God would "give him the throne of his father David,"
that he should "reign over the house of Jacob for ever;" and that "of his kingdom there shall
be no end." These promises were sure, and it was impossible they should fail, and therefore
the Virgin Mary, in trusting fully to them, acted reasonably, having an immovable foundation
of her faith; as Elizabeth observes, (ver. 45.) "And blessed is she that believeth; for there shall
be a performance of those things which were told her from the Lord."
7. That it should have been possible that Christ should sin, and so fail in the work of our
redemption, does not consist with the eternal purpose and decree of God, revealed in the
Scriptures, that he would provide salvation for fallen man in and by Jesus Christ, and that
salvation should be offered to sinners through the preaching of the gospel. Thus much is
implied in many scriptures, (as 1 Cor. ii. 7.- Eph. i. 4, 5. and chap. iii. 9 – 11.- 1 Pet. i. 19,
20.) Such an absolute decree as this, Arminians allow to be signified in many texts; their
election of nations and societies, and general election of the Christian church, and conditional
election of particular persons, imply this. God could not decree before the foundation
of the world, to save all that should believe in and obey Christ, unless, he had absolutely
decreed, that salvation should be provided, and effectually wrought out by Christ. And since
(as the Arminians themselves strenuously maintain) a decree of God infers necessity; hence
it became necessary, that Christ should persevere and actually work out salvation for us,
and that he should not fail by the commission of sin.
8. That it should have been possible for Christ's holiness to fail, is not consistent with what
God promised to his Son, before all ages. For that salvation should be offered to men, through
Christ, and bestowed on all his faithful followers, is at least implied in that certain and infallible
promise spoken of by the apostle, (Tit. i. 2.) "In hope of eternal life; which God, that
cannot lie, promised before the world began." This does not seem to be controverted by
Arminians.
9. That it should be possible for Christ to fail of doing his Father's Will, is inconsistent with
the promise made to the Father by the Son, the Logos that was with the Father from the
beginning, before he took the human nature: as may be seen in Ps. xl. 6 – 8. (compared with
the apostle's interpretation, Heb. x. 5 – 9.) "Sacrifice and offering thou didst not desire: mine
ears hast thou opened, (or bored;) burnt-offering and sin-offering thou hast not required.
Then said I, Lo, I come; in the volume of the book it is written of me, I delight to do thy will,
O my God, yea, thy law is within my heart." Where is a manifest allusion to the covenant,
which the willing servant, who loved his master's service, made with his master, to be his
servant for ever, on the day wherein he had his ear bored; which covenant was probably
inserted in the public records, called the VOLUME OF THE BOOK, by the judges, who
were called to take cognizance of the transaction; (Exod. xxi.) If the Logos, who was with
the Father before the world, and who made the world, thus engaged in covenant to do the
Will of the Father in the human nature, and the promise was as it were recorded, that it,
might be made sure, doubtless it was impossible that it should fail; and so it was impossible
that Christ should fail of doing the Will of the Father in the human nature.
10. If it was possible for Christ to have failed of doing the Will of his Father, and so to have
failed of effectually working out redemption for sinners, then the salvation of all the saints,
who were saved from the beginning of the world, to the death of Christ, was not built on a
firm foundation. The Messiah, and the redemption which he was to work out by his obedience
unto death, was the saving foundation of all that ever were saved. Therefore, if when the
Old-Testament saints had the pardon of their sins and the favour of God promised them,
and salvation bestowed upon them, still it was possible that the Messiah, when he came,
might commit sin, then all this was on a foundation that was not firm and stable, but liable
to Evil; something which it was possible might never be. God did as it were trust to what
his Son had engaged and promised to do in future time, and depended so much upon it,
that he proceeded actually to save men on the account of it, though it had been already done.
But this trust and dependence of God, on the supposition of Christ's being liable to fail of
doing his Will, was leaning on a staff that was weak, and might possibly break. The saints
of old trusted on the promises of a future redemption to be wrought out and completed by
the Messiah, and built their comfort upon it: Abraham saw Christ's day, and rejoiced; and
he and the other Patriarchs died in the faith of the promise of it, (Heb. xi. 13.) But on this
supposition, their faith, their comfort, and their salvation, was built on a fallible foundation;
Christ was not to them "a tried stone, a sure foundation;" (Isa. xxviii. 16.) David entirely
rested on the covenant of God with him, concerning the future glorious dominion and salvation
of the Messiah; and said it was all his salvation, and all his desire; and comforts
himself that this covenant was an "everlasting covenant, ordered in all things and sure," (2
Sam. xxiii. 5.) But if Christ's virtue might fail, he was mistaken: his great comfort was not
built so "sure" as he thought it was, being founded entirely on the determinations of the
Free Will of Christ's human soul; which was subject to no necessity, and might be determined
either one way or the other. Also the dependence of those, who "looked for redemption in
Jerusalem, and wailed for the consolation of Israel," (Luke ii. 25, and 38.) and the confidence
of the disciples of Jesus, who forsook all and followed him, that they might enjoy the benefits
of his future kingdom, were built on a sandy foundation.
11. The man Christ Jesus, before he had finished his course of obedience, and while in the
midst of temptations and trials, was abundant in positively predicting his own future glory
in his kingdom, and the enlargement of his church, the salvation of the Gentiles through
him, &c. and in promises of blessings he would bestow on his true disciples in his future
kingdom; on which promises he required the full dependence of his disciples, (John xiv.)
But the disciples would have no ground for such dependence, if Christ had been liable to
fail in his work: and Christ himself would have been guilty of presumption, in so abounding
in peremptory promises of great things, which depended on a mere contingence; viz. the
determinations of his Free Will, consisting in a freedom ad ulrumque, to either sin or holiness,
standing in indifference, and incident, in thousands of future instances, to go either one
way or the other.
Thus it is evident, that it was impossible that the Acts of the will of the human soul of Christ
should be otherwise than holy, and conformed to the Will of the Father; or, in other words,
they were necessarily so conformed.
I have been the longer in the proof of this matter, it being a thing denied by some of the
greatest Arminians, by Episcopius in particular; and because I look upon it as a point clearly
and absolutely determining the controversy between Calvinists and Arminians, concerning
the necessity of such a freedom of Will as is insisted on by the latter, in order to moral
agency, virtue, command or prohibition, promise or threatening, reward or punishment,
praise or dispraise, merit or demerit. I now therefore proceed,
II. To consider whether CHRIST, in his holy behaviour on earth, was not thus a moral agent,
subject to commands, promises, &c.
Dr. Whitby very often speaks of what he calls a freedom ad utrumlibet, without necessity,
as requisite to law and commands: and speaks of necessity as entirely inconsistent with injunctions
and prohibitions. But yet we read of Christ being the subject of His Father's
commands, (John x. 18. and xv. 10.) And Christ tells us, that every thing that he said, or
did, was in compliance with "commandments he had received of the Father;" (John xii. 49,
50. and xiv. 31.) And we often read of Christ's obedience to his Father's commands, (Rom. v. 19. Phil. ii. 18. Heb. v. 8.)
The aforementioned writer represents promises offered as motives to person to do their
duty, or a being moved and induced by promises, as utterly inconsistent with a state wherein
persons have not a liberty ad utrumlibet, but are necessarily determined to one. (See particularly,
p. 298, and 311.) But the thing which this writer asserts, is demonstrably false, if the
Christian religion be true. If there be any truth in Christianity or the Holy Scriptures, the
man Christ Jesus had his Will infallibly and unalterably determined to good, and that alone;
but yet he had promises of glorious rewards made to him, on condition of his persevering
in and perfecting the work which God had appointed him; (Isa. liii. 10, 11, 12. Psal. ii. and
cx. Isa. xlix. 7, 8, 9.) In Luke xxii. 28, 20. Christ says to his disciples, "Ye are they which have
continued with me in my temptations; and I appoint unto you a kingdom, as my Father
hath appointed unto me." The word most properly signifies to appoint by covenant, or
promise. The plain meaning of Christ's words is this: "As you have partaken of my
temptations and trials, and have been steadfast, and have overcome; I promise to make you
partakers of my reward, and to give you a kingdom; as the Father has promised me a kingdom
for continuing steadfast and overcoming in those trials." And the words are well explained
by those in Rev. iii. 21. "To him that overcometh, will I grant to sit with me on my throne;
even as I also overcame, and am set down with my Father in his throne." And Christ had
not only promises of glorious success and rewards made to his obedience and sufferings,
but the Scriptures plainly represent him as using these promises for motives and inducements
to obey and suffer; and particularly that promise of a kingdom which the Father had appointed
him, or sitting with the Father on his throne; (as in Heb. xii. 1, 2.) "Let us lay aside every
weight, and the sin which doth easily beset us, and let us run with patience the race that is
set before us, looking unto Jesus the author and finisher of our faith; who for the joy that
was set before him, endured the cross, despising the shame, and is set down on the right
hand of the throne of God."
And how strange would it be to hear any Christian assert, that the holy and excellent temper
and behaviour of Jesus Christ, and that obedience which he performed under such great
trials, was not virtuous or praiseworthy; because his Will was not free ad utrumque, to either
holiness or sin, but was unalterably determined to one; that upon this account, there is no
virtue at all in all Christ's humility, meekness, patience, charity, forgiveness of enemies,
contempt of the world, heavenly-mindedness, submission to the Will of God, perfect
obedience to his commands unto death, even the death of the cross, his great compassion
to the afflicted, his unparalleled love to mankind, his faithfulness to God and man, under
such great trials; his praying for his enemies, even when nailing him to the cross; that virtue,
when applied to these things, is but an empty name; that there was no merit in any of these
things; that is, that Christ was worthy of nothing at all on account of them, worthy of no
reward, no praise, no honour or respect from God or man; because his will was not indifferent,
and free either to these things, or the contrary; but under such a strong inclination or
bias to the things that were excellent, as made it impossible that he should choose the contrary;
that upon this account, to use Dr. Whitby's language, it would be sensibly unreasonable
that the human nature should be rewarded for any of these things.
According to this doctrine, that creature who is evidently set forth in Scripture as the firstborn
of every creature, as having in all things the pre-eminence, and as the highest of all
creatures in virtue, honour, and worthiness of esteem, praise, and glory, on account of his
virtue, is less worthy of reward or praise, than the very least of saints; yea, no more worthy
than a clock or mere machine, that is purely passive, and moved by natural necessity.
If we judge by scriptural representations of things, we have reason to suppose, that Christ
took on him our nature, and dwelt with us in this world, in a suffering state, not only to
satisfy for our sins; but that he, being in our nature and circumstances, and under our trials,
might be our most fit and proper example, leader, and captain, in the exercise of glorious
and victorious virtue, and might be a visible instance of the glorious end and reward of it;
that we might see in Him the beauty, amiableness, and true honour and glory, and exceeding
benefit, of that virtue, which it is proper for us human beings to practice; and might thereby
learn, and be animated, to seek the like glory and honour, and to obtain the like glorious
reward. (See Heb. ii. 9 – 14. with v. 8, 9. and xii. 1, 2, 3. John xv. 10. Rom. viii. 17. 2 Tim. ii. 11, 12. 1 Pet. ii. 19, 20. and iv. 1:3.) But if there was nothing of any virtue or merit, or worthiness
of any reward, glory, praise, or commendation at all, in all that he did, because it
was all necessary, and he could not help it; then how is here any thing so proper to animate
and incite us, free creatures, by patient continuance in well-doing, to seek for honour glory,
and virtue?
God speaks of himself as peculiarly well pleased with the righteousness of this distinguished
servant. (Isa. xlii. 21.) "The Lord is well pleased for his righteousness' sake." The sacrifices
of old are spoken of as a sweet savor to God, but the obedience of Christ as far more acceptable
than they. (Psal. xl. 6, 7.) "Sacrifice and offering thou didst not desire: mine ear hast
thou opened [as thy servant performing willing obedience;] burnt-offering and sin-offering
hast thou not required. Then said I, Lo, I come, [as a servant that cheerfully answers the
calls of his master:] I delight to do thy will, O my God, and thy law is within mine heart."
(Matt. xvii. 5.) "This is my beloved Son, in whom I am well-pleased." And Christ tells us
expressly, that the Father loves Him for that wonderful instance of his obedience, his voluntary
yielding himself to death, in compliance with the Father's command, (John x. 17, 18.) "Therefore doth my Father love me, because I lay down my life: - No man taketh it from
me; but I lay it down of myself - This commandment received I of my Father."
And if there was no merit in Christ's obedience unto death, if it was not worthy of praise,
and of the most glorious rewards, the heavenly hosts were exceedingly mistaken, by the account
that is given of them, (Rev. v. 8 – 12.) "The four beasts, and the four and twenty elders,
fell down before the Lamb, having every one of them harps, and golden vials full of odours;
- and they sung a new song, saying, Thou art worthy to take the book, and to open the
seals thereof; for thou wast slain.- And I beheld, and I heard the voice of many angels
round about the throne, and the beasts, and the elders, and the number of them was ten
thousand times ten thousand, and thousands of thousands, saying with a loud voice, Worthy
is the Lamb that was slain, to receive power, and riches, and wisdom, and strength, and
honour, and glory, and blessing."
Christ speaks of the eternal life which he was to receive, as the reward of his obedience to
the Father's commandments. (John xii. 49, 50.) "I have not spoken of myself; but the Father
which sent me, he gave me a commandment what I should say, and what I should speak:
and I know that his commandment is life everlasting: whatsoever I speak therefore, even as
the Father said unto me, so I speak." - God promises to divide him a portion with the great,
&c. for his being his righteous servant, for his glorious virtue under such great trials and
afflictions. (Isa. liii. 11, 12.) "He shall see the travail of his soul and be satisfied; by his
knowledge shall my righteous servant justify many; for he shall bear their iniquities.
Therefore will I divide him a portion with the great, and he shall divide the spoil with the
strong, because he hath poured out his soul unto death." The Scriptures represent God as
rewarding him far above all his other servants. (Phil. ii. 7 – 9.) "He took on him the form
of a servant, and was made in the likeness of men; and being found in fashion as a man, he
humbled himself, and became obedient unto death, even the death of the cross; wherefore
God also hath Highly exalted him, and given him a name above every name." (Psal. xlv. 7.)
"Thou lovest righteousness, and hatest wickedness; therefore God, thy God, hath anointed
thee with the oil of gladness above thy fellows."
There is no room to pretend, that the glorious benefits bestowed in consequence of Christ's
obedience, are not properly of the nature of a reward. What is a reward, in the most proper
sense, but a benefit bestowed in consequence of something morally excellent in quality or
behaviour, in testimony of well-blessedness in that moral excellency, and of respect and favour
on that account? If we consider the nature of a reward most strictly, and make the utmost
of it, and add to the things contained in this description proper merit or worthiness,
and the bestowment of the benefit in consequence of a promise; still it will be found, there
is nothing belonging to it, but what the Scripture most expressly ascribes to the glory bestowed
on Christ, after his sufferings; as appears from what has been already observed; there
was a glorious benefit bestowed in consequence of something morally excellent, being called
Righteousness and Obedience; there was great favour, love, and well-pleasedness, for this
righteousness and obedience, in the bestower; there was proper merit, or worthiness of the
benefit, in the obedience; it was bestowed in fulfilment of promises, made to that obedience;
and was bestowed therefore, or because he had performed that obedience.
I may add to all these things, that Jesus Christ, while here in the flesh, was manifestly in a
state of trial. The last Adam, as Christ is called, (1 Cor. xv. 45. Rom. v. 14.) taking on him
the human nature, and so the form of a servant, and being under the law, to stand and act
for us, was put into a state of trial, as the first Adam was.- Dr. Whitby mentions these three
things as evidences of persons being in a state of trial, (on the five Points, p. 298, 299.)
namely, their afflictions being spoken of as their trials or temptations, their being the subjects
of promises, and their being exposed to Satan's temptations. But Christ was apparently the
subject of each of these. Concerning promises made to him, I have spoken already. The
difficulties and afflictions he met with in the course of his obedience, are called his temptations
or trials, (Luke xxii. 28.) "Ye are they which have continued with me in my temptations
or trials." (Heb. ii. 18.) "For in that he himself hath suffered, being tempted [or tried,] he is
able to succor them that are tempted." And, (chap. iv. 15.) "We have not an high-priest,
which cannot be touched with the feeling of our infirmities; but was in all points tempted
like as we are, yet without sin." And as to his being tempted by Satan it is what none will
dispute.
Section III.
The case of such as are given up of God to sin, and of fallen man in general, proves moral
Necessity and Inability to be consistent with Blameworthiness.
DR. WHITBY asserts freedom, not only from coaction, but Necessity, to be essential to any
thing deserving the name of sin, and to an action being culpable; in these words, (Discourse
on Five Points, edit. 3. p. 348.) "If they be thus necessitated, then neither their sins of
omission or commission could deserve that name: it being essential to the nature of sin,
according to St. Austin's definition, that it be an action a duo liberum est abstinere. Three
things seem plainly necessary to make an action or omission culpable; 1. That it be in our
power to perform or forbear it: for, as Origen, and all the fathers, say, no man is blameworthy
for not doing what he could not do." And elsewhere the Doctor insists, that "when any do
evil of Necessity, what they do is no vice, that they are guilty of no fault, are worthy of no
blame, dispraise, or dishonour, but are unblamable."
If these things are true, in Dr. Whitby's sense of Necessity, they will prove all such to be
blameless, who are given up of God to sin, in what they commit after they are thus given
up,- That there is such a thing as men being judicially given up to sin, is certain, if the
Scripture rightly informs us; such a thing being often there spoken of: as in Psal. lxxxi. 12. "So I gave them up to their own hearts' lust, and they walked in their own counsels." (Acts vii. 42.) "Then God turned, and gave them up to worship the host of heaven." (Rom. i. 24.)
"Wherefore, God also gave them up to uncleanness, through the lusts of their own hearts,
to dishonour their own bodies between themselves." (Ver. 26.) "For this cause God gave
them up to vile affections." (Ver. 28.) "And even as they did not like to retain God in their
knowledge, God gave them over to a reprobate mind, to do those things that are not convenient."
It is needless to stand particularly to inquire, what God's "giving men up to their own hearts'
lusts" signifies: it is sufficient to observe, that hereby is certainly meant God so ordering or
disposing things, in some respect or other, either by doing or forbearing to do, as that the
consequence should be men continuing in their sins. So much as men are given up to, so
much is the consequence of their being given up, whether that be less or more. If God does
not order things so, by action or permission, that sin will be the consequence, then the event
proves that they are not given up to that consequence. If good be the consequence, instead
of evil, then God's mercy is to be acknowledged in that good; which mercy must be contrary
to God's judgment in giving up to evil. If the event must prove, that they are given up to
evil as the consequence, then the persons, who are the subjects of this judgment, must be
the subjects of such an event, and so the event is necessary.
If not only coaction, but all Necessity, will prove men blameless, then Judas was blameless,
after Christ had given him over, and had already declared his certain damnation, and that
he should verily betray him. He was guilty of no sin in betraying his Master, on this supposition;
though his so doing is spoken of by Christ as the most aggravated sin, more heinous
than the sin of Pilate in crucifying him. And the Jews in Egypt, in Jeremiah's time, were
guilty of no sin, in their not worshiping the true God, after God had "sworn by his great
name, that his name should be no more named in the mouth of any man of Judah, in all the
land of Egypt," (Jer. xliv. 26.)
Dr. Whitby (Disc. on five Points, p. 302, 303.) denies, that men, in this world, are ever so
given up by God to sin, that their Wills should be necessarily determined to evil; though he
owns, that hereby it may become exceeding difficult for men to do good, having a strong
bent and powerful inclination to what is evil. But if we should allow the case to be just as
he represents, the judgment of giving up to sin will no better agree with his notions of that
liberty, which is essential to praise or blame, than if we should suppose it to render the
avoiding of sin impossible. For if an impossibility of avoiding sin wholly excuses a man;
then for the same reason, its being difficult to avoid it, excuses him in part; and this just in
proportion to the degree of difficulty.- If the influence of moral impossibility or inability
be the same, to excuse persons in not doing or not avoiding any thing, as that of natural
inability, (which is supposed,) then undoubtedly, in like manner, mortal difficulty has the
same influence to excuse with natural difficulty. But all allow, that natural impossibility
wholly excuses, and also that natural difficulty excuses in part, and makes the act or omission
less blamable in proportion to the difficulty. All natural difficulty, according to the plainest
dictates of the light of nature, excuses in some degree, so that the neglect is not so blamable,
as if there had been no difficulty in the case: and so the greater the difficulty is, still the more
excusable, in proportion to the increase of the difficulty. And as natural impossibility wholly
excuses, and excludes all blame, so the nearer the difficulty approaches to impossibility, still
the nearer a person is to blamelessness in proportion to that approach. And if the case of
moral impossibility or Necessity, be just the same with natural Necessity or coaction, as to
its influence to excuse a neglect, then also, for the same reason, the case of natural difficulty
does not differ in influence, to excuse a neglect, from moral difficulty, arising from a strong
bias or bent to evil, such as Dr. Whitby owns in the case of those that are given up to their
own hearts' lusts. So that the fault of such persons must be lessened, in proportion to the
difficulty, and approach to impossibility. If ten degrees of moral difficulty make the action
quite impossible, and so wholly excuse, then if there be nine degrees of difficulty, the person
is in great part excused, and is nine degrees in ten less blameworthy, than if there had been
no difficulty at all; and he has but one degree of blameworthiness. The reason is plain, on
Arminian principles; viz. because as difficulty, by antecedent bent and bias on the Will, is
increased, liberty of indifference, and self-determination in the Will, is diminished; so much
hindrance, impediment is there, in the way of the will acting freely, by mere self-determination.
And if ten degrees of such hindrance take away all such liberty, then nine degrees,-
take away nine parts in ten, and leave but one degree of liberty. And therefore there is but
one degree of blameableness in the neglect; the man being no further blamable in what he
does, or neglects, than he has liberty in that affair: for blame or praise (say they) arises wholly
from a good use or abuse of liberty.
From all which it follows, that a strong bent and bias one way, and difficulty of going the
contrary, never causes a person to be at all more exposed to sin, or any thing blamable: because,
as the difficulty is increased, so much the less is required and expected. Though in
one respect, exposedness to sin is increased, viz. by an increase of exposedness to the evil
action or omission; yet it is diminished in another respect, to balance it; namely, as the sinfulness
or blamableness of the action or omission is diminished in the same proportion. So
that, on the whole, the affair, as to exposedness to guilt or blame, is left just as it was.
To illustrate this, let us suppose a scale of a balance to be intelligent, and a free agent, and
indued with a self-moving power, by virtue of which it could act and produce effects to a
certain degree, ex. gr. to move itself up or down with a force equal to a weight of ten pounds;
and that it might therefore be required of it, in ordinary circumstances, to move itself down
with that force; for which it has power and full liberty, and therefore would be blameworthy
if it failed of it. But then let us suppose a weight of ten pounds to be put in the opposite scale,
which in force entirely counterbalances its self-moving power, and so renders it impossible
for it to move down at all; and therefore wholly excuses it from any such motion. But if we
suppose there to be only nine pounds in the opposite scale, this renders its motion not impossible,
but yet more difficult; so that it can now only move down with the force of one
pound; but however, this is all that is required of it under these circumstances; it is wholly
excused from nine parts of its motion; and if the scale, under these circumstances, neglect
to move, and remain at rest, all that it will be blamed for, will be its neglect of that one tenth
part of its motion; for which it had as much liberty and advantage, as in usual circumstances
it has for the greater motion, which in such a case would be required. So that this new difficulty
does not at all increase its exposedness to any thing blameworthy.
And thus the very supposition of difficulty in the way of a man's duty, or proclivity to sin,
through a being given up to hardness of heart, or indeed by any other means whatsoever,
is an inconsistence, according to Dr. Whitby's notions of liberty, virtue and vice, blame and
praise. The avoiding of sin and blame, and the doing of what is virtuous and praiseworthy,
must be always equally easy.
Dr. Whitby's notions of liberty, obligation, virtue, sin, &c. led him into another great inconsistence.
He abundantly insists, that necessity is inconsistent with the nature of sin or fault.
He says, in the aforementioned treatise, (p. 14.) Who can blame a person for doing what he
could not help? And, (p. 15.) It being sensibly unjust, to punish any man for doing that
which was never in his power to avoid. And, (p. 341.) to confirm his opinion, he quotes one
of the fathers, saying, Why doth God command, if man hath not free will and power to
obey? And again, in the same and the next page, Who will not cry out, that it is folly to
command him, that hath not liberty to do what is commanded; and that it is unjust to condemn
him, that has it not in his power to do what is required? And, (p. 373.) he cites another
saying, A law is given to him that can turn to both parts; I. e. obey or transgress it; but no
Law can be against him who is bound by nature.
And yet the same Dr. Whitby asserts, that fallen man is not able to perform perfect obedience.
In p. 165, he has these words: "The nature of Adam had power to continue innocent, and
without sin; whereas, it is certain our nature never had." But if we have not power to continue
innocent and without sin, then sin is not inconsistent with Necessity, and we may be sinful
in that which we have not power to avoid; and those things cannot be true, which he asserts
elsewhere, namely, "That if we be necessitated, neither sins of omission nor commission,
would deserve that name," (p. 348.) If we have it not in our power to be innocent, then we
have it not in our power to be blameless; and if so, we are under a Necessity of being
blameworthy. And how does this consist with what he so often asserts, that Necessity is inconsistent
with blame or praise? If we have it not in our power to perform perfect obedience
to all the commands of God, then we are under a Necessity of breaking some commands,
in some degree; having no power to perform so much as is commanded. And if so, why
does he cry out of the unreasonableness and folly of commanding beyond what men have
power to do?
Arminians in general are very inconsistent with themselves, in what they say of the Inability
of fallen man in this respect. They strenuously maintain, that it would be unjust in God, to
require any thing of us beyond our present power and ability to perform; and also hold that
we are now unable to perform perfect obedience, and that Christ died to satisfy for the imperfections
of our obedience and has made way, that our imperfect obedience might be accepted
instead of perfect; wherein they seem insensibly to run themselves into the grossest
inconsistence. For (as I have observed elsewhere) "they hold that God, in mercy to mankind,
has abolished that rigorous constitution or law, that they were under originally, and instead
of it, has introduced a more mild constitution, and put us under a new law, which requires
no more than imperfect sincere obedience, in compliance with our poor infirm impotent
circumstances since the fall." Now how can these things be made consistent? I would ask,
of what law are these imperfections of our obedience a breach? If they are a breach of no
law that we were ever under, then they are not sins. And if they be not sins, what need of
Christ dying to satisfy for them? But if they are sins, and the breach of some law, what law
is it? They cannot be a breach of their new law, for that requires no other than imperfect
obedience, or obedience with imperfections: and therefore to have obedience attended with
imperfections, is no breach of it; for it is as much as it requires. And they cannot be a breach
of their old law: for that, they say, is entirely abolished; and we never were under it.- They
say, it would not be just in God to require of us perfect obedience, because it would not be
just to require more than we can perform, or to punish us for failing of it. And, therefore,
by their own scheme, the imperfections of our obedience do not deserve to be punished.
What need therefore of Christ dying, to satisfy for them? What need of his suffering, to
satisfy for that which is no fault, and in its own nature deserves no suffering? What need of
Christ dying, to purchase, that our imperfect obedience should be accepted, when, according
to their scheme, it would be unjust in itself, that any other obedience than imperfect should
be required? What need of Christ dying to make way for God's accepting of such obedience,
as it would be unjust in him not to accept? Is there any need of Christ dying to prevail with
God not to do unrighteously? - If it be said, that Christ died to satisfy that old law for us,
that so we might not be under it, but that there might be room for our being under a more
mild law; still I would inquire, what need of Christ dying, that we might not be under a law,
which (by their principles) it would be in itself unjust that we should be under, whether
Christ had died or no, because, in our present state, we are not able to keep it? So the
Arminians are inconsistent with themselves, not only, in what they say of the need of Christ's
satisfaction to atone for those imperfections, which we cannot avoid, but also in what they
say of the grace of God, granted to enable men to perform the sincere obedience of the new
law. "I grant indeed, (says Dr. Stebbing,) that by original sin, we are utterly disabled for the
performance of the condition, without new grace from God. But I say then, that he gives
such a grace to all of us, by which the performance of the condition, is truly possible; and
upon this ground he may and doth most righteously require it." If Dr. Stebbing intends to
speak properly, by grace he must mean, that assistance which is of grace, or of free favour
and kindness. But yet in the same place he speaks of it as very unreasonableness, unjust,
and cruel, for God to require that, as the condition of pardon, that is become impossible by
original sin. If it be so, what grace is there in giving assistance and ability to perform the
condition of pardon? Or why is that called by the name of grace, that is an absolute debt,
which God is bound to bestow, and which it would be unjust and cruel in him to withhold,
seeing he requires that, as the condition of pardon, which he cannot perform without it?
Section IV.
Command and Obligation to Obedience, consistent with moral Inability to obey.
IT being so much insisted on by Arminian writers, that necessity is inconsistent with law
or command, and particularly, that it is absurd to suppose God by his command should
require that of men which they are unable to do; not allowing in this case for any difference
between natural and moral Inability; I would therefore now particularly consider this matter.-
And for greater clearness I would distinctly lay down the following things.
I. The Will itself, and not only those actions which are the effects of the will, is the proper
object of Precept or Command. That is, such a state or acts of men's Wills, are in many cases
properly required of them by Commands; and not only those alterations in the state of their
bodies or minds that are the consequences of volition. This is most manifest; for it is the
soul only that is properly and directly the subject of Precepts or Commands; that only being
capable of receiving or perceiving Commands. The motions or state of the body are matter
of Command, only as they are subject to the soul, and connected with its acts. But now the
soul has no other faculty whereby it can, in the most direct and proper sense, consent, yield
to, or comply with any Command, but the faculty of the Will; and it is by this faculty only,
that the soul can directly disobey, or refuse compliance: for the very notions of consenting,
yielding, accepting, complying, refusing, rejecting, &c. are, according to the meaning of the
terms, nothing but certain acts of the will. Obedience, in the primary nature of it, is the
submitting and yielding of the Will of one, to the will of another. Disobedience is the not
consenting, not complying of the Will of the commanded, to the manifested Will of the
commander. Other acts that are not the acts of the Will, as certain motions of the body and
alterations in the soul, are Obedience or Disobedience only indirectly, as they are connected
with the state or actions of the will, according to an established law of nature. So that it is
manifest, the Will itself may be required: and the being of a good Will is the most proper,
direct, and immediate subject of Command; and if this cannot be prescribed or required by
Command or Precept, nothing can; for other things can be required no otherwise than as
they depend upon, and are the fruits of a good Will.
Corol. 1. If there be several acts of the Will, or a series of acts, one following another, and
one the effect of another, the first and determining act is properly the subject of Command,
and not only the consequent acts, which are dependent upon it. Yea, this more especially is
that to which Command or Precept has a proper respect; because it is this act that determines
the whole affair: in this act the Obedience or Disobedience lies, in a peculiar manner; the
consequent acts being all governed and determined by it. This governing act must be the
proper object of Precept, or none.
Corol. 2. It also follows, from what has been observed, that if there be any act, or exertion
of the soul, prior to all free acts of choice in the case, directing and determining what the
acts of the Will shall be; that act of the soul cannot properly be subject to any Command or
Precept, in any respect whatsoever, either directly or indirectly, immediately or remotely.
Such acts cannot be subject to Commands directly, because they are no acts of the Will;
being by the supposition prior to all acts of the Will, determining and giving rise to all its
acts: they not being acts of the Will, there can be in them no consent to or compliance with
any Command. Neither can they be subject to Command or Precept indirectly or remotely;
for they are not so much as the sects or consequences of the Will, being prior to all its acts.
So that if there be any Obedience in that original act of the soul, determining all volitions,
it is an act of Obedience wherein the Will has no concern at all; it preceding every act of
Will. And therefore, if the soul either obeys or disobeys in this act, it is wholly involuntarily;
there is no willing Obedience or rebellion, no compliance or opposition of the Will in the
affair: and what sort of Obedience or rebellion is this?
And thus the Arminian notion of the freedom of the will consisting in the soul's determining
its own acts of Will, instead of being essential to moral agency, and to men being the subjects
of moral government, is utterly inconsistent with it. For if the soul determines all its acts of
Will, it is therein subject to no Command or moral government, as has been now observed;
because its original determining act is no act of Will or choice, it being prior, by the supposition,
to every act of Will. And the soul cannot be the subject of Command in the act of the
Will itself, which depends on the foregoing determining act, and is determined by it; in as
much as this is necessary, being the necessary consequence and effect of that prior determining
act, which is not voluntary. Nor can the man be the subject of Command or government
in his external actions; because these are all necessary, being the necessary effects of the acts
of the Will themselves. So that mankind, according to this scheme, are subjects of Command
or moral government in nothing at all; and all their moral agency is entirely excluded, and
no room is left for virtue or vice in the world.
So that the Arminian scheme, and not that of the Calvinists, is utterly inconsistent with
moral government, and with all use of laws, precepts, prohibitions, promises, or threatenings.
Neither is there any way whatsoever to make their principles consist with these things. For
if it be said, that there is no prior determining act of the soul, preceding the acts of the Will,
but that volitions are events that come to pass by pure accident, without any determining
cause, this is most palpably inconsistent with all use of laws and precepts; for nothing is
more plain than that laws can be of no use to direct and regulate perfect accident: which,
by the supposition of its being pure accident, is in no case regulated by any thing preceding;
but happens, this way or that, perfectly by chance, without any cause or rule. The perfect
uselessness of laws and precepts also follows from the Arminian notion of indifference, as
essential to that liberty, which is requisite to virtue or vice. For the end of laws is to bind to
one side; and the end of Commands is to turn the Will one way: and therefore they are of
no use, unless they turn or bias the Will that way. But if liberty consists in indifference, then
their biassing the Will one way only, destroys liberty; as it puts the Will out of equilibrium.
So that the will, having a bias, through the influence of binding law, laid upon it, is not
wholly left to itself, to determine itself which way it will, without influence from without.
II. Having shown that the Will itself, especially in those acts which are original, leading and
determining in any case, is the proper subject of Precept and Command - and not only
those alterations in the body, &c. which are the effects of the Will - I now proceed, in the
second place, to observe, that the very opposition or defect of the Will itself, in its original
and determining act in the case, to a thing proposed or commanded, or its failing of compliance,
implies a moral inability to that thing: or, in other words, whenever a Command requires
a certain state or act of the Will, and the person commanded, notwithstanding the
Command and the circumstances under which it is exhibited, still finds his will opposite or
wanting, in that, belonging to its state or acts, which is original and determining in the affair,
that man is morally unable to obey that Command.
This is manifest from what was observed in the first part concerning the nature of moral
Inability, as distinguished from natural: where it was observed, that a man may then be said
to be morally unable to do a thing, when he is under the influence or prevalence of a contrary
inclination, or has a want of inclination, under such circumstances and views. It is also
evident, from what has been before proved, that the Will is always, and in every individual
act, necessarily determined by the strongest motive; and so is always unable to go against
the motive, which, all things considered, has now the greatest strength and advantage to
move the Will.- But not further to insist on these things, the truth of the position now laid
down, viz. that when the Will is opposite to, or failing of a compliance with, a thing, in its
original determination or act, it is not able to comply, appears by the consideration of these
two things.
1. The Will in the time of that diverse or opposite leading act or inclination, and when actually
under its influence, is not able to exert itself to the contrary, to make an alteration, in order
to a compliance. The inclination is unable to change itself; and that for this plain reason,
that it is unable to incline to change itself. Present choice cannot at present choose to be
otherwise: for that would be at present to choose something diverse from what is at present
chosen. If the will, all things now considered, inclines or chooses to go that way, then it
cannot choose, all things now considered, to go the other way, and so cannot choose to be
made to go the other way. To suppose that the mind is now sincerely inclined to change itself
to a different inclination, is to suppose the mind is now truly inclined otherwise than it is
now inclined. The Will may oppose some future remote act that it is exposed to, but not its
own present act.
2. As it is impossible that the Will should comply with the thing commanded, with respect
to its leading act, by any act of its own, in the time of that diverse or opposite leading and
original act, or after it has actually come under the influence of that determining choice or
inclination; so it is impossible it should be determined to a compliance by any foregoing
act; for, by the very supposition, there is no foregoing act; the opposite or noncomplying
act being that act which is original and determining in the case. Therefore it must be so,
that if this first determining act be found non-complying, on the proposal of the command,
the mind is morally unable to obey. For to suppose it to be able to obey, is to suppose it to
be able to determine and cause its first determining act to be otherwise, and that it has power
better to govern and regulate its first governing and regulating act, which is absurd; for it
is to suppose a prior act of the Will, determining its first determining act; that is, an act
prior to the first, and leading and governing the original and governing act of all; which is
a contradiction.
Here if it should be said, that although the mind has not any ability to will contrary to what
it does will, in the original and leading act of the Will, because there is supposed to be no
prior act to determine and order it otherwise, and the will cannot immediately change itself,
because it cannot at present incline to a change; yet the mind has an ability for the present
to forbear to proceed to action, and taking time for deliberation; which may be an occasion
of the change of the inclination.
I answer, (1.) In this objection, that seems to be forgotten which was observed before, viz. that the determining to take the matter into consideration, is itself an act of the Will: and if
this be all the act wherein the mind exercises ability and freedom, then this, by the supposition,
must be all that can be commanded or required by precept. And if this act be the
commanding act, then all that has been observed concerning the commanding act of the
Will remains true, that the very want of it is a moral Inability to exert it, &c. (2.) We are
speaking concerning the first and leading act of the will about the affair; and if determining
to deliberate, or, on the contrary, to proceed immediately without deliberating, be the first
and leading act; or whether it be or no, if there be another act before it, which determines
that; or whatever be the original and leading act; still the foregoing proof stands good, that
the non-compliance of the leading act implies moral Inability to comply.
If it should be objected, that these things make all moral Inability equal, and suppose men
morally unable to will otherwise than they actually do will, in all cases, and equally so in
every instance.- In answer to this objection, I desire two things may be observed.
First, That if by being equally unable, be meant, as really unable; then, so far as the Inability
is merely moral, it is true; the will, in every instance, acts by moral necessity, and is morally
unable to act otherwise, as truly and properly in one case as another; as, I humbly conceive,
has been perfectly and abundantly demonstrated by what has been said in the preceding
part of this essay. But yet, in some respect, the Inability may be said to be greater in some
instances than others: though the man may be truly unable, (if moral inability can truly be
called Inability.) yet he may be further from being able to do Some things than others. As
it is in things, which men are naturally unable to do. A person, whose strength is no more
than sufficient to lift the weight of one hundred pounds, is as truly and really unable to lift
one hundred and one pounds, as ten thousand pounds; but yet he is further from being able
to lift the latter weight than the former; and so, according to the common use of speech, has
a greater Inability for it. So it is in moral Inability. A man is truly morally unable to choose
contrary to a present inclination, which in the least degree prevails; or, contrary to that
motive, which, all things considered, has strength and advantage now to move the Will, in
the least degree, superior to all other motives in view: but yet he is further from ability to
resist a very strong habit, and a violent and deeply rooted inclination, or a motive vastly
exceeding all others in strength. And again, the Inability may, in some respects, be called
greater in some instances than others, as it may be more general and extensive to all acts of
that kind. So men may be said to be unable in a different sense, and to be further from
moral ability, who have that moral Inability which is general and habitual, than they who
have only that Inability which is occasional and particular. Thus in cases of natural inability;
he that is born blind may be said to be unable to see, in a different manner, and is, in some
respects, further from being able to see, than he whose sight is hindered by a transient cloud
or mist.
And besides, that which was observed in the first part of this discourse, concerning the Inability
which attends a strong and settled habit, should be there remembered; viz. that a
fixed habit is attended with this peculiar moral inability, by which it is distinguished from
occasional volition, namely, that endeavours to avoid future volitions of that kind, which
are agreeable to such a habit, much more frequently and commonly prove vain and insufficient.
For though it is impossible there should be any sincere endeavours against a present
choice, yet there may be against volitions of that kind, when viewed at a distance. A person
may desire and use means to prevent future exercises of a certain inclination; and, in order
to it, may wish the habit might be removed; but his desires and endeavours may be ineffectual.
The man may be said in some sense to be unable; yea, even as the word unable is a relative
term, and has relation to ineffectual endeavours; yet not with regard to present, but
remote endeavours.
Secondly, It must be borne in mind, according to what was observed before, that indeed no
Inability whatsoever, which is merely moral, is properly called by the name of Inability; and
that in the strictest propriety of speech, a man may be said to have a thing in his power, if
he has it at his election, and he cannot be said to be unable to do a thing, when he can, if he
now pleases, or whenever he has a proper, direct, and immediate desire for it. As to those
desires and endeavours, that may be against the exercises of a strong habit, with regard to
which men may be said to be unable to avoid those exercises, they are remote desires and
endeavours in two respects. First, as to time; they are never against present volitions, but
only against volitions of such a kind, when viewed at a distance. Secondly, as to their nature;
these opposite desires are not directly and properly against the habit and inclination itself,
or the volitions in which it is exercised; for these, in themselves considered, are agreeable:
but against something else that attends them, or is their consequence; the opposition of the
mind is leveled entirely against this; the volitions themselves are not at all opposed directly,
and for their own sake; but only indirectly and remotely, on the account of something foreign.
III. Though the opposition of the Will itself, or the very want of Will to a thing commanded,
implies a moral inability to that thing; yet, if it be, as has been already shown, that the being
of a good state or act of will, is a thing most properly required by Command; then, in some
cases, such a state or act of Will may properly be required, which at present is not, and which
may also be wanting after it is commanded. And therefore those things may properly be
commanded, for which men have a moral Inability.
Such a state or act of the Will, may be required by Command, as does not already exist. For
if that volition only may be commanded to be, which already is, there could be no use of
precept: Commands in all cases would be perfectly vain and impertinent. And not only may
such a Will be required, as is wanting before the Command is given, but also such as may
possibly be wanting afterwards; such as the exhibition of the Command may not be effectual
to produce or excite. Otherwise, no such thing as disobedience to a proper and rightful
Command is possible in any case; and there is no case possible, wherein there can be a faulty
disobedience. Which Arminians cannot affirm, consistently with their principle: for this
makes obedience to just and proper Commands always necessary, and disobedience impossible.
And so the Arminian would overthrow himself, yielding the very point we are
upon, which he so strenuously denies, viz. that Law and Command are consistent with necessity.
If merely that Inability will excuse disobedience, which is implied in the opposition or defect
of inclination, remaining after the Command is exhibited, then wickedness always carries
that in it which excuses it. By how much the more wickedness there is in a man's heart, by
so much is his inclination to evil the stronger, and by so much the more, therefore, has he
of moral Inability to the good required. His moral Inability consisting in the strength of his
evil inclination, is the very thing wherein his wickedness consists; and yet, according to
Arminian principles, it must be a thing inconsistent with wickedness; and by how much the
more he has of it, by so much is he the further from wickedness.
Therefore, on the whole, it is manifest, that moral Inability alone (which consists in disinclination)
never renders any thing improperly the subject matter of Precept or Command,
and never can excuse any person in disobedience, or want of conformity to a command.
Natural Inability, arising from the want of natural capacity, or external hindrance, (which
alone is properly called Inability,) without doubt wholly excuses, or makes a thing improperly
the matter of Command. If men are excused from doing or acting any good thing, supposed
to be commanded, it must be through some defect or obstacle that is not in the Will itself,
but either in the capacity of understanding, or body, or outward circumstances.- Here two
or three things may be observed,
1. As to spiritual acts, or any good thing in the state or imminent acts of the will itself, or of
the affections, (which are only certain modes of the exercise of the Will,) if persons are justly
excused, it must be through want of capacity in the natural faculty of understanding. Thus
the same spiritual duties, or holy affections and exercises of heart, cannot be required of
men, as may be of angels; the capacity of understanding being so much inferior. So men
cannot be required to love those amiable persons, whom they have had no opportunity to
see, or hear of, or know in any way agreeable to the natural state and capacity of the human
understanding. But the insufficiency of motives will not excuse; unless their being insufficient
arises not from the moral state of the Will or inclination itself, but from the state of the
natural understanding. The great kindness and generosity of another may be a motive insufficient
to excite gratitude in the person that receives the kindness, through his vile and ungrateful
temper: in this case, the insufficiency of the motive arises from the state of the Will
or inclination of heart, and does not at all excuse. But if this generosity is not sufficient to
excite gratitude, being unknown, there being no means of information adequate to the state
and measure of the person's faculties, this insufficiency is attended with a natural Inability,
which entirely excuses it.
2. As to such motions of body, or exercises and alterations of mind, which do not consist
in the imminent acts or state of the Will itself - but are supposed to be required as effects
of the will, in cases wherein there is no want of a capacity of understanding that inability,
and that only, excuses, which consists in want of connexion between them and the Will. If
the will fully complies, and the proposed effect does not prove, according to the laws of
nature, to be connected with his volition, the man is perfectly excused; he has a natural Inability
to the thing required. For the Will itself, as has been observed, is all that can be directly
and immediately required by Command; and other things only indirectly, as connected
with the Will. If therefore, there be a full compliance of Will, the person has done his duty;
and if other things do not prove to be connected with his volition, that is not criminally
owing to him.
3. Both these kinds of natural Inability, and all Inability that excuses, may be resolved into
one thing; namely, want of natural capacity or strength; either capacity of understanding,
or external strength. For when there are external defects and obstacles, they would be no
obstacles, were it not for the imperfection and limitations of understanding and strength.
Corol. If things for which men have a moral Inability may properly be the matter of Precept
or Command, then they may also of invitation and counsel. Commands and invitations
come very much to the same thing; the difference is only circumstantial: Commands are as
much a manifestation of the will of him that speaks, as invitations, and as much testimonies
of expectation of compliance. The difference between them lies in nothing that touches the
affair in hand. The main difference between Command and invitation consists in the enforcement
of the Will of him who commands or invites. In the latter it is his kindness, the
goodness from which his Will arises: in the former it is his authority. But whatever be the
ground of Will in him that speaks, or the enforcement of what he says, yet, seeing neither
his Will, nor his expectation, is any more testified in the one case than the other; therefore,
a person being directed by invitation, is no more an evidence of insincerity in him that directs
- in manifesting either a Will or expectation which he has not - than a person being
known to be morally unable to do what he is directed by command is an evidence of insincerity.
So that all this grand objection of Arminians against the Inability of fallen men to
exert faith in Christ, or to perform other spiritual duties, from the sincerity of God's counsels
and invitations, must be without force.
Section V.
That Sincerity of Desires and Endeavours, which, is supposed to excuse in the
non-performance of things in themselves good, particularly considered.
It is much insisted on by many, that some men, though they are not able to perform spiritual
duties, such as repentance of sin, love to God, a cordial acceptance of Christ as exhibited
and offered in the gospel, &c. yet may sincerely desire and endeavor after these things; and
therefore must be excused; it being unreasonable to blame them for the omission of those
things, which they sincerely desire and endeavour to do, but cannot. Concerning this matter,
the following things may be observed.
1. What is here supposed, is a great mistake, and gross absurdity; even that men may sincerely
choose and desire those spiritual duties of love, acceptance, choice, rejection, &c. consisting
in the exercise of the Will itself, or in the disposition and inclination of the heart; and yet
not able to perform or exert them. This is absurd, because it is absurd to suppose that a man
should directly, properly, and sincerely incline to have an inclination, which at the same
time is contrary to his inclination: for that is to suppose him not to be inclined to that which
he is inclined to. If a man, in the state and acts of his will and inclination, properly and directly
falls in with those duties, he therein performs them: for the duties themselves consist
in that very thing; they consist in the state and acts of the Will being so formed and directed.
If the soul properly and sincerely falls in with a certain proposed act of Will or choice, the
soul therein makes that choice its own. Even as when a moving body falls in with a proposed
direction of its motion, that is the same thing as to move in that direction.
2. That which is called a Desire and Willingness for those inward duties, in such as do not
perform them, has respect to these duties only indirectly and remotely, and is improperly
so called; not only because (as was observed before) it respects those good volitions only in
a distant view, and with respect to future time; but also because evermore, not these things
themselves, but something else that is foreign, is the object that terminates these volitions
and Desires.
A drunkard, who continues in his drunkenness, being under the power of a violent appetite
to strong drink, and without any love to virtue; but being also extremely covetous and close,
and very much exercised and grieved at the diminution of his estate, and prospect of poverty,
may in a sort desire the virtue of temperance; and though his present Will is to gratify his
extravagant appetite, yet he may wish he had a heart to forbear future acts of intemperance,
and forsake his excesses, through an unwillingness to part with his money: but still he goes
on with his drunkenness; his wishes and endeavours are insufficient and ineffectual: such
a man has no proper, direct, sincere Willingness to forsake this vice, and the vicious deeds
which belong to it; for he acts voluntarily in continuing to drink to excess: his Desire is very
improperly called a willingness to be temperate; it is no true Desire of that virtue; for it is
not that virtue, that terminates his wishes; nor have they any direct respect at all to it. It is
only the saving of his money, or the avoiding of poverty, that terminates and exhausts the
whole strength of his Desire. The virtue of temperance is regarded only very indirectly and
improperly, even as a necessary means of gratifying the vice of covetousness.
So, a man of an exceedingly corrupt and wicked heart, who has no love to God and Jesus
Christ, but, on the contrary, being very profanely and carnally inclined, has the greatest
distaste of the things of religion, and enmity against them; yet being of a family, that, from
one generation to another, have most of them died, in youth, of an hereditary consumption;
and so having little hope of living long; and having been instructed in the necessity of a supreme
love to Christ, and latitude for his death and sufferings, in order to his salvation from
eternal misery; if under these circumstances he should, through fear of eternal torments,
wish he had such a disposition; but his profane and carnal heart remaining, he continues
still in his habitual distaste of; and enmity to God and religion, and wholly without any exercise
of that love and gratitude, (as doubtless the very devils themselves, notwithstanding
all the devilishness of their temper, would wish for a holy heart, if by that means they could
get out of hell:) in this case, there is no sincere Willingness to love Christ and choose him
as his chief good: these holy dispositions and exercises are not at all the direct object of the
Will: they truly share no part of the inclination or desire of the soul; but all is terminated
on deliverance from torment: and these graces and pious volitions, notwithstanding this
forced consent, are looked upon as in themselves undesirable; as when a sick man desires
a dose he greatly abhors, in order to save his life. From these things it appears:
3. That this indirect Willingness is not that exercise of the Will which the command requires;
but is entirely a different one; being a volition of a different nature, and terminated altogether
on different objects; wholly falling short of that virtue of Will, to which the command has
respect,
4. This other volition, which has only some indirect concern with the duty required, cannot
excuse for the want of that good will itself, which is commanded; being not the thing which
answers and fulfils the command, and being wholly destitute of the virtue which the command
seeks.
Further to illustrate this matter: If a child has a most excellent father that has ever treated
him with fatherly kindness and tenderness, and has every way, in the highest degree, merited
his love and dutiful regard, and is withal very wealthy; but the son is of so vile a disposition,
that he inveterately hates his father; and yet, apprehending that his hatred of him is like to
prove his ruin, by bringing him finally to those abject circumstances, which are exceedingly
adverse to his avarice and ambition; he, therefore, wishes it were otherwise: but yet remaining
under the invincible power of his vile and malignant disposition, he continues still in his
settled hatred of his father. Now, if such a son's indirect willingness to love and honour his
father, at all acquits or excuses before God, for his failing of actually exercising these dispositions
towards him, which God requires, it must be on one of these accounts. (1.) Either,
That it answers and fulfils the command. But this it does not by the supposition; because
the thing commanded is love and honour to his worthy parent. If the command be proper
and just, as is supposed, then it obliges to the thing commanded; and so nothing else but
that can answer the obligation. Or, (2.) It must be at least, because there is that virtue or
goodness in his indirect willingness, that is equivalent to the virtue required; and so balances
or countervails it, and makes up for the want of it. But that also is contrary to the supposition.
The willingness the son has merely from a regard to money and honour, has no goodness
in it, to countervail the want of the pious filial respect required.
Sincerity and reality, in that indirect Willingness, which has been spoken of, does not make
it the better. That which is real and hearty is often called sincere; whether it be in virtue or
vice. Some persons are sincerely bad; others are sincerely good; and others may be sincere
and hearty in things, which are in their own nature indifferent; as a man may be sincerely
desirous of eating when he is hungry. But being sincere, hearty, and in good earnest, is no
virtue, unless it be in a thing that is virtuous. A man may be sincere and hearty in joining a
crew of pirates, or a gang of robbers. When the devils cried out, and besought Christ not to
torment them, it was no mere pretense; they were very hearty in their desires not to be tormented:
but this did not make their Will or Desire virtuous. And if men have sincere Desires,
which are in their kind and nature no better, it can be no excuse for the want of any required
virtue.
And as a man's Sincerity in such an indirect Desire or willingness to do his duty, as has been
mentioned, cannot excuse for the want of performance; so it is with Endeavours arising
from such a Willingness. The Endeavours can have no more goodness in them, than the
Will of which they are the effect and expression. And, therefore, however sincere and real,
and however great a person's Endeavours are; yea, though they should be to the utmost of
his ability; unless the Will from which they proceed be truly good and virtuous, they can be
of no avail or weight whatsoever in a moral respect. That which is not truly virtuous is, in
God's sight, good for nothing: and so can be of no value, or influence, in his account, to
make up for any moral defect. For nothing can counterbalance evil, but good. If evil be in
one scale, and we put a great deal into the other of sincere and earnest Desires, and many
and great endeavours; yet, if there be no real goodness in all, there is no weight in it; and so
it does nothing towards balancing the real weight, which is in the opposite scale. It is only
like subtracting a thousand noughts from before a real number, which leaves the sum just
as it was.
Indeed such Endeavours may have a negatively good influence. Those things, which have
no positive virtue, have no positive moral influence; yet they may be an occasion of persons
avoiding some positive evils. As if a man were in the water with a neighbor to whom he had
ill will, and who could not swim, holding him by his hand; this neighbor was much in debt
to him,- the man is tempted to let him sink and drown - but refuses to comply with the
temptation; not from love to his neighbor, but from the love of money, and because by his
drowning he should lose his debt; that which he does in preserving his neighbor from
drowning, is nothing good in the sight of God: yet hereby he avoids the greater guilt that
would have been contracted, if he had designedly let his neighbor sink and perish. But when
Arminians, in their disputes with Calvinists, insist so much on sincere Desires and Endeavours,
as what must excuse men, must be accepted of God, &c. it is manifest they have respect
to some positive moral weight or influence of those Desires and Endeavours. Accepting,
justifying, or excusing on the account of sincere Endeavours, (as they are called,) and men
doing what they can, &c. has relation to some moral value, something that it accepts as good,
and as such, countervailing some defect.
But there is a great and unknown deceit, arising from the ambiguity of the phrase, sincere
Endeavours. Indeed there is a vast indistinctness and unfixedness in most, or at least very
many of the terms used to express things pertaining to moral and spiritual matters. whence
arise innumerable mistakes, strong prejudices, inextricable confusion, and endless controversy.-
The word sincere is most commonly used to signify something that is good: men
are habituated to understand by it the same as honest and upright; which terms excite an
idea of something good in the strictest and highest sense; good in the sight of him, who sees
not only the outward appearance, but the heart. And, therefore, men think that if a person
be sincere, he will certainly be accepted. If it be said that any one is sincere in his endeavours,
this suggests, that his heart is good, that there is no defect of duty, as to virtuous inclination;
he honestly and uprightly desires and endeavours to do as he is required; and this leads
them to suppose, that it would be very hard and unreasonable to punish him, only because
he is unsuccessful in his endeavours, the thing endeavored after being beyond his power.-
Whereas it ought to be observed, that the word sincere has these different significations.
1. Sincerity, as the word is sometimes used, signifies no more than reality of will and Endeavour,
with respect to any thing that is professed or pretended; without any consideration of
the nature of the principle or aim, whence this real Will and true endeavour arises. If a man
has some real Desire either direct or indirect to obtain a thing, or does really endeavour
after it, he is said sincerely to desire or endeavour, without any consideration of the goodness
of the principle from which he acts, or any excellency or worthiness of the end for which
he acts. Thus a man who is kind to his neighbour's wife, who is sick and languishing, and
very helpful in her case, makes a show of desiring and endeavouring her restoration to health
and vigor; and not only makes such a show, but there is a reality in his pretense, he does
heartily and earnestly desire to have her health restored, and uses his true and utmost Endeavours
for it: he is said sincerely to desire and endeavour after it, because he does so truly
or really; though perhaps the principle he acts from, is no other than a vile and scandalous
passion; having lived in adultery with her, he earnestly desires to have her health and vigor
restored, that he may return to his criminal pleasures. Or,
2. By Sincerity is meant, not merely a reality of will and Endeavour of some sort, and from
some consideration or other, but a virtuous Sincerity. That is, that in the performance of
those particular acts, that are the matter of virtue or duty, there be not only the matter, but
the form and essence of virtue, consisting in the aim that governs the act, and the principle
exercised in it. There is not only the reality of the act, that is as it were the body of the duty;
but also the soul, which should properly belong to such a body. In this sense, a man is said
to be sincere, when he acts with a pure intention; not from sinister views: he not only in
reality desires and seeks the thing to be done, or qualification to be obtained, for some end
or other; but he wills the thing directly and properly, as neither forced nor bribed; the virtue
of the thing is properly the object of the Will.
In the former sense, a man is said to be sincere, in opposition to a mere pretense, and show
of the particular thing to be done or exhibited, without any real Desire or Endeavour at all.
In the latter sense, a man is said to be sincere, in opposition to that show of virtue there is
in merely doing the matter of duty, without the reality of the virtue itself in the soul. A man
may be sincere in the former sense, and yet in the latter be in the sight of God, who searches
the heart, a vile hypocrite.
In the latter kind of sincerity, only, is there any thing truly valuable or acceptable in the sight
of God. And this is what in Scripture is called Sincerity, uprightness, integrity, "truth in the
inward parts," and "heirs of a perfect heart." And if there be such a Sincerity, and such a
degree of it as there ought to be, and there be any thing further that the man is not able to
perform, or which does not prove to be connected with his sincere Desires and Endeavours,
the man is wholly excused and acquitted in the sight of God; his Will shall surely be accepted
for his deed: and such a sincere Will and Endeavour is all that in strictness is required of
him, by any command of God, but as to the other kind of Sincerity of Desires and Endeavours,
having no virtue in it, (as was observed before,) it can be of no avail before God, in
any case, to recommend, satisfy, or excuse, and has no positive moral weight or influence
whatsoever.
Corol. 1. Hence it may be inferred, that nothing in the reason and nature of things appears
from the consideration of any moral weight in the former kind of Sincerity, leading us to
suppose, that God has made any positive promises of salvation, or grace, or any saving assistance, or any spiritual benefit whatsoever, to any Desires, prayers, Endeavours, striving,
or obedience of those, who hitherto have no true virtue or holiness in their hearts; though
we should suppose all the Sincerity, and the utmost degree of Endeavour, that is possible to
be in person without holiness.
Some object against God requiring, as the condition of salvation, those holy exercises, which
are the result of a supernatural renovation; such as a supreme respect to Christ, love to God,
loving holiness for its own sake, &c. that these inward dispositions and exercises are above
men's power, as they are by nature; and therefore that we may conclude, that when men are
brought to be sincere in their Endeavours, and do as well as they can, they are accepted; and
that this must be all that God requires, in order to their being received as the objects of his
favour, and must be what God has appointed as the condition of salvation. Concerning this,
I would observe, that in such manner of speaking as "men being accepted because they are
sincere, and do as well as they can," there is evidently a supposition of some virtue, some
degree of that which is truly good; though it does not go so far as were to be wished. For if
men do what they can, unless their so doing be from some good principle, disposition, or
exercise of heart, some virtuous inclination or act of the will; their so doing what they can,
is in some respect not a whit better than if they did nothing at all. In such a case, there is no
more positive moral goodness in a man doing what he can, than in a windmill doing what
it can; because the action does no more proceed from virtue: and there is nothing in such
Sincerity of Endeavour, or doing what we can, that should render it any more a fit recommendation
to positive favour and acceptance, or the condition of any reward or actual benefit,
than doing nothing; for both the one and the other are alike nothing, as to any true
moral weight or value.
Corol. 2. Hence also it follows, there is nothing that appears in the reason and nature of
things, which can justly lead us to determine, that God will certainly give the necessary
means of salvation, or some way or other bestow true holiness and eternal life on those
heathens, who are sincere (in the sense above explained) in their Endeavours to find out
the Will of the Deity, and to please him, according to their light, that they may escape his
future displeasure and wrath, and obtain happiness in the future state, through his favour
Section VI.
Liberty of indifference, not only not necessary to Virtue, but utterly inconsistent with
it; and all, either virtuous or vicious habits or inclinations, inconsistent with Arminian
notions of Liberty and moral Agency.
To suppose such a freedom of will, as Arminians talk of, to be requisite to Virtue and Vice,
is many ways contrary to common sense.
If Indifference belong to Liberty of Will, as Arminians suppose, and it be essential to a virtuous
action, that it be performed in a state of Liberty, as they also suppose; it will follow,
that it is essential to a virtuous action, that it be performed in a state of Indifference: and if
it be performed in a state of indifference, then doubtless it must be performed in the time
of Indifference. And so it will follow, that in order to the Virtue of an act, the heart must be
indifferent in the time of the performance of that act and the more indifferent and cold the
heart is with relation to the act performed, so much the better; because the act is performed
with so much the greater Liberty. But is this agreeable to the light of nature? Is it agreeable
to the notions which mankind in all ages have of Virtue, that it lies in what is contrary to
Indifference, even in the tendency and inclination of the heart to virtuous action; and that
the stronger the inclination, and so the further from Indifference, the more virtuous the
heart, and so much the more praiseworthy the act which proceeds from it?
If we should suppose (contrary to what has been before demonstrated) that there may be
an act of will in a state of Indifference; for instance, this act, viz. The will determining to
put itself out of a state of Indifference, and to give itself a preponderation one way; then it
would follow, on Arminian principles, that this act or determination of the will is that alone
wherein Virtue consists, because this only is performed, while the mind remains in a state
of Indifference, and so in a state of Liberty: for when once the mind is put out of its equilibrium,
it is no longer in such a state; and therefore all the acts, which follow afterwards,
proceeding from bias, can have the nature neither of Virtue nor Vice. Or if the thing which
the will can do, while yet in a state of Indifference, and so of Liberty, be only to suspend
acting, and determine to take the matter into consideration; then this determination is that
alone wherein Virtue consists, and not proceeding to action after the scale is turned by
consideration. So that it will follow, from these principles, that whatever is done after the
mind, by any means, is once out of its equilibrium, and arises from an inclination, has
nothing of the nature of Virtue or Vice, and is worthy of neither blame or praise. But how
plainly contrary is this to the universal sense of mankind, and to the notion they have of
sincerely virtuous actions! Which is, that they proceed from a heart well disposed and well
inclined; and the stronger, the more fixed and determined, the good disposition of the heart,
the greater the sincerity of Virtue, and so the more of its truth and reality. But if there be
any acts, which are done in a state of equilibrium, or spring immediately from perfect Indifference
and coldness of heart, they cannot arise from any good principle or disposition in
the heart; and, consequently, according to common sense, have no sincere goodness in
them, having no Virtue of heart in them. To have a virtuous heart, is to have a heart that
favours Virtue, and is friendly to it, and not one perfectly cold and indifferent about it.
And besides, the actions that are done in a state of Indifference, or that arise immediately
out of such a state, cannot be virtuous, because, by the supposition, they are not determined
by any preceding choice. For if there be preceding choice, then choice intervenes between
the act and the state of Indifference; which is contrary to the supposition of the act arising
immediately out of Indifference. But those acts which are not determined by preceding
choice, cannot be virtuous or vicious, by Arminian principles, because they are not determined
by the Will. So that neither one way, nor the other, can any actions be virtuous or vicious,
according to those principles. If the action be determined by a preceding act of choice, it
cannot be virtuous; because the action is not done in a state of Indifference, nor does immediately
arise from such a state; and so is not done in a state of Liberty, If the action be not
determined by a preceding act of choice, then it cannot be virtuous; because then the Will
is not self-determined in it. So that it is made certain, that neither Virtue nor Vice can ever
find any place in the universe!
Moreover, that it is necessary to a virtuous action that it be performed in a state of Indifference,
under a notion of that being a state of liberty, is contrary to common sense; as it is a
dictate of common sense, that indifference itself, in many cases, is vicious, and so to a high
degree. As if when I see my neighbour or near friend, and one who has in the highest degree
merited of me, in extreme distress, and ready to perish, I find an Indifference in my heart
with respect to any thing proposed to be done, which I can easily do, for his relief. So if it
should be proposed to me to blaspheme God, or kill my father, or do numberless other
things, which might be mentioned; the being indifferent, for a moment, would be highly
vicious and vile.
And it may be further observed, that to suppose this Liberty of Indifference is essential to
Virtue and vice, destroys the great difference of degrees of the guilt of different crimes, and
takes away the heinousness of the most flagitious, horrid iniquities; such as adultery, bestiality,
murder, perjury, blasphemy, &c. For, according to these principles, there is no harm
at all in having the mind in a stale of perfect Indifference with respect to these crimes; nay,
it is absolutely necessary in order to any Virtue in avoiding them, or Vice in doing them.
But for the mind to be in a state of Indifference with respect to them, is to be next door to
doing them: it is then infinitely near to choosing, and so committing the fact: for equilibrium
is the next step to a degree of preponderation; and one, even the least degree of preponderation (all things considered) is choice. And not only so, but for the Will to be in a state of
perfect equilibrium with respect to such crimes, is for the mind to be in such a state, as to
be full as likely to choose them as to refuse them, to do them as to omit them. And if our
minds must be in such a state, wherein it is as near to choosing as refusing, and wherein it
must of necessity, according to the nature of things, be as likely to commit them, as to refrain
from them; where is the exceeding heinousness of choosing and committing them? If there
be no harm in often being in such a state, where in the probability of doing and forbearing
are exactly equal, there being an equilibrium, and no more tendency to one than the other;
then, according to the nature and laws of such a contingence, it may be expected, as an inevitable
consequence of such a disposition of things, that we should choose them as often
as reject them: that it should generally so fall out is necessary, as equality in the effect is the
natural consequence of the equal tendency of the cause, or of the antecedent state of things
from which the effect arises. Why then should we be so exceedingly to blame, if it does so
fall out?
It is many ways apparent, that the Arminian scheme of Liberty is utterly inconsistent with
the being of any such things as either virtuous or vicious habits or dispositions. If Liberty
of Indifference be essential to moral Agency, then there can be no Virtue in any habitual
inclinations of the heart; which are contrary to Indifference, and imply in their nature the
very destruction and exclusion of it. They suppose nothing can be virtuous in which no
Liberty is exercised; but how absurd is it to talk of exercising Indifference under bias and
preponderation!
And if self-determining power in the will be necessary to moral Agency, praise, blame, &c. then nothing done by the will can be any further praiseworthy or blameworthy, than so far
as the will is moved, swayed, and determined by itself, and the scales turned by the sovereign
power the Will has over itself. And therefore the Will must not be out of its balance, preponderation
must not be determined and effected before-hand; and so the self-determining act
anticipated. Thus it appears another way, that habitual bias is inconsistent with that Liberty,
which Arminians suppose to be necessary to Virtue or Vice; and so it follows, that habitual
bias itself cannot be either virtuous or vicious.
The same thing follows from their doctrine concerning the Inconsistence of Necessity with
Liberty, praise, dispraise, &c. None will deny, that bias and inclination may be so strong as
to be invincible, and leave no possibility of the Will determining contrary to it; and so be
attended with Necessity. This Dr. Whitby allows concerning the Will of God, angels, and
glorified saints, with respect to good; and the Will of devils, with respect to evil. Therefore,
if Necessity be inconsistent with Liberty, then, when fixed inclination is to such a degree of
strength, it utterly excludes all Virtue, Vice, praise, or blame. And, if so, then the nearer
habits are to this strength, the more do they impede Liberty, and so diminish praise and
blame. If very strong habits destroy Liberty, the lesser ones proportionably hinder it, according
to their degree of strength. And therefore it will follow, that then is the act most virtuous
or vicious, when performed without any inclination or habitual bias at all; because it is then
performed with most Liberty.
Every prepossessing fixed bias on the mind brings a degree of moral inability for the contrary;
because so far as the mind is biased and prepossessed, so much hindrance is there of the
contrary. And therefore if moral inability be inconsistent with moral Agency, or the nature
of Virtue and Vice, then, so far as there is any such thing as evil disposition of heart, or habitual
depravity of inclination; whether covetousness, pride, malice, cruelty, or whatever
else; so much the more excusable persons are; so much the less have their evil acts of this
kind the nature of Vice. And on the contrary, whatever excellent dispositions and inclinations
they have so much are they the less virtuous.
It is evident, that no habitual disposition of heart can be in any degree virtuous or vicious,
or the actions which proceed from them at all praiseworthy or blameworthy. Because, though
we should suppose the habit not to be of such strength, as wholly to take away all moral
ability and self-determining power; or may be partly from bias, and in part from self-determination;
yet in this case, all that is from antecedent bias must be set aside, as of no consideration;
and in estimating the degree of Virtue or Vice, no more must be considered than
what arises from self-determining power, without any influence of that bias, because Liberty
is exercised in no more: so that all that is the exercise of habitual inclination is thrown away,
as not belonging to the morality of the action. By which it appears, that no exercise of these
habits, let them be stronger or weaker, can ever have any thing of the nature of either virtue
or Vice.
Here if any one should say, that notwithstanding all these things, there may be the nature
of Virtue and Vice in the habits of the mind; because these habits may be the effects of those
acts, wherein the mind exercised Liberty; that however the forementioned reasons will prove
that no habits, which are natural, or that are born or created with us, can be either virtuous
or vicious; yet they will not prove this of habits, which have been acquired and established
by repeated free acts.
To such an objector I would say, that this evasion will not at all help the matter. For if freedom
of Will be essential to the very nature of Virtue and Vice, then there is no Virtue or Vice
but only in that very thing, wherein this Liberty is exercised. If a man in one or more things,
that he does, exercises Liberty, and then by those acts is brought into such circumstances,
that his Liberty ceases, and there follows a long series of acts or events that come to pass
necessarily; those consequent acts are not virtuous or vicious, rewardable or punishable;
but only the free acts that established this necessity; for in them alone was the man free. The
following effects, that are necessary, have no more of the nature of Virtue or Vice, than
health or sickness of body have properly the nature of Virtue or Vice, being the effects of a
course of free acts of temperance or intemperance; or than the good qualities of a clock are
of the nature of Virtue, which are the effects of free acts of the artificer; or the goodness and
sweetness of the fruits of a garden are moral Virtues, being the effects of the free and faithful
acts of the gardener. If Liberty be absolutely requisite to the morality of actions, and necessity
wholly inconsistent with it, as Arminians greatly insist; then no necessary effects whatsoever,
let the cause be never so good or bad, can be virtuous or vicious; but the Virtue or Vice must
be only in the free cause. Agreeably to this, Dr. Whitby supposes, the necessity that attends
the good and evil habits of the saints in heaven, and damned in hell, which are the consequence
of their free acts in their state of probation, are not rewardable or punishable.
On the whole, it appears, that if the notions of Arminians concerning Liberty and moral
Agency be true, it will follow, that there is no virtue in any such habits or qualities as humility,
meekness, patience, mercy, gratitude, generosity, heavenly-mindedness; nothing at all
praiseworthy in loving Christ above father and mother, wife and children, or our own lives;
or in delight in holiness, hungering and thirsting after righteousness, love to enemies, universal
benevolence to mankind: and, on the other hand, there is nothing at all vicious, or
worthy of dispraise, in the most sordid, beastly, malignant, devilish dispositions; in being
ungrateful, profane, habitually hating God, and things sacred and holy; or in being most
treacherous, envious, and cruel towards men. For all these things are dispositions and inclinations
of the heart. And in short, there is no such thing as any virtuous or vicious quality of
mind; no such thing as inherent virtue and holiness, or vice and sin: and the stronger those
habits or dispositions are, which used to be called virtuous and vicious, the further they are
from being so indeed; the more violent men's lusts are, the more fixed their pride, envy,
ingratitude, and maliciousness, still the further are they from being blameworthy. If there
be a man that by his own repeated acts, or by any other means, is come to be of the most
hellish disposition, desperately inclined to treat his neighbours with injuriousness, contempt,
and malignity; the further they should be from any disposition to be angry with him, or in
the least to blame him. So, on the other hand, if there be a person, who is of a most excellent
spirit, strongly inclining him to the most amiable actions, admirably meek, benevolent, &c.
so much is he further from any thing rewardable or commendable. On which principles,
the man Jesus Christ was very far from being praiseworthy for those acts of holiness and
kindness which he performed, these propensities being strong in his heart. And above all,
the infinitely holy and gracious God is infinitely remote from any thing commendable, his
good inclinations being infinitely strong, and he, therefore, at the utmost possible distance
from being at Liberty. And in all cases, the stronger the inclinations of any are to Virtue,
and the more they love it, the less virtuous, and the more they love wickedness, the less vicious
they are.- Whether these things are agreeable to Scripture, let every Christian, and every
man who has read the Bible, judge: and whether they are agreeable to common sense, let
every one judge, that has human understanding in exercise.
And, if we pursue these principles, we shall find that Virtue and Vice are wholly excluded
out of the world; and that there never was, nor ever can be, any such thing as one or the
other; either in God, angels, or men. No propensity, disposition, or habit can be virtuous
or vicious, as has been shown; because they, so far as they take place, destroy the freedom
of the will, the foundation of all moral Agency, and exclude all capacity of either Virtue or
Vice. - And if habits and dispositions themselves be not virtuous nor vicious, neither can
the exercise of these dispositions be so: for the exercise of bias is not the exercise of free selfdetermining
will, and so there is no exercise of Liberty in it. Consequently, no man is virtuous
or vicious, either in being well or ill disposed, nor in acting from a good or bad disposition.
And whether this bias or disposition be habitual or not, if it exists but a moment before the
act of Will which is the effect of it, it alters not the case, as to the necessity of the effect. Or
if there be no previous disposition at all, either habitual or occasional, that determines the
act, then it is not choice that determines it: it is therefore a contingence, that happens to the
man, arising from nothing in him; and is necessary, as to any inclination or choice of his;
and, therefore, cannot make him either the better or worse; any more than a tree is better
than other trees, because it oftener happens to be lighted upon by a nightingale; or a rock
more vicious than other rocks, because rattle-snakes have happened oftener to crawl over
it. So, that there is no Virtue nor vice in good or bad dispositions, either fixed or transient;
nor any Virtue or Vice in acting from any good or bad previous inclination; nor yet any
Virtue or Vice in acting wholly without any previous inclination. Where then shall we find
room for Virtue or Vice?
Section VII.
Arminian notions of moral Agency inconsistent with all Influence of Motive and
Inducement, in either virtuous or vicious actions.
As Arminian notions of that liberty which is essential to virtue or vice, are inconsistent with
common sense, in their being inconsistent with all virtuous or vicious habits and dispositions;
so they are no less inconsistent with all influence of motives in moral actions.- Such influence
equally against those notions of liberty, whether there be, previous to the act of choice,
a preponderancy of the inclination, or a preponderancy of those circumstances, which have
a tendency to move the inclination. And, indeed, it comes to just the same thing: to say, the
circumstances of the mind are such as tend to sway and turn its inclination one way, is the
same thing, as to say, the inclination of the mind, as under such circumstances, tends that
way.
Or if any think it most proper to say, that Motives do alter the inclination, and give a net
bias to the mind, it will not alter the case, as to the present argument. For if Motives operate
by giving the mind an inclination, then they operate by destroying the mind's indifference,
and laying it under a bias. But to do this, is to destroy the Arminian freedom: it is not to
leave the will to its own self-determination, but to bring it into subjection to the power of
something extrinsic, which operates upon it, sways and determines it, previous to its own
determination. So that what is done from Motive, cannot be either virtuous or vicious. Besides,
if the acts of the will are excited by Motives, those Motives are the causes of those acts
of the Will; which makes the acts of the will necessary; as effects necessarily follow the efficiency
of the cause. And if the influence and power of the Motive causes the volition, then
the influence of the motive determines volition, and volition does not determine itself; and
so is not free, in the sense of Arminians, (as has been largely shown already,) and consequently
can be neither virtuous nor vicious.
The supposition which has already been taken notice of as an insufficient evasion in other
cases, would be, in like manner, impertinently alleged in this case; namely, the supposition
that liberty consist in a power of suspending action for the present, in order to deliberation.
If it should be said, Though it be true, that the Will is under a necessity of finally following
the strongest Motive; yet it may, for the present, forbear to act upon the Motive presented,
till there has been opportunity thoroughly to consider it, and compare its real weight with
the merit of other Motives. I answer as follows:
Here again, it must be remembered, that if determining thus to suspend and consider, be
that act of the will, wherein alone liberty is exercised, then in this all virtue and vice must
consist; and the acts that follow this consideration, and are the effects of it, being necessary,
are no more virtuous or vicious than some good or bad events, which happen when they
are fast asleep, and are the consequences of what they did when they were awake. Therefore,
I would here observe two things:
1. To suppose, that all virtue and vice, in every case, consists in determining, whether to
take time for consideration or not, is not agreeable to common sense, For, according to such
a supposition, the most horrid crimes, adultery, murder, sodomy, blasphemy, &c. do not
at all consist in the horrid nature of the things themselves, but only in the neglect of thorough
consideration before they were perpetrated, which brings their viciousness to a small matter,
and makes all crimes equal. If it be said, that neglect of consideration, when such heinous
evils are proposed to choice, is worse than in other cases: I answer, this is inconsistent, as it
supposes the very thing to be, which, at the same time, is supposed not to be; it supposes all
moral evil, all viciousness and heinousness, does not consist merely in the want of consideration.
It supposes some crimes in themselves, in their own nature, to be more heinous than
others, antecedent to consideration, or inconsideration, which lays the person under a previous
obligation to consider in some cases more than others.
2. If it were so, that all virtue and vice, in every case, consisted only in the act of the will,
whereby it determines Whether to consider or no, it would not alter the case in the least, as
to the present argument. For still in this act of the Will on this determination, it is induced
by some Motive, and necessarily follows the strongest Motive; and so is necessarily, even in
that act wherein alone it is either virtuous or vicious.
One thing more I would observe, concerning the inconsistence of Arminian notions of
moral Agency with the Influence of Motives.- I suppose none will deny, that it is possible
for such powerful Motives to be set before the mind, exhibited in so strong a light, and under
such advantageous circumstances, as to be invincible; and such as the mind cannot but yield
to. In this case, Arminians will doubtless say, liberty is destroyed. And if so, then if Motives
are exhibited with half so much power, they hinder liberty in proportion to their strength,
and go halfway towards destroying it. If a thousand degrees of Motive abolish all liberty,
then five hundred take it half away. If one degree of the influence of motive does not at all
infringe or diminish liberty, then no more do two degrees; for nothing doubled, is still
nothing. And if two degrees do not diminish the Will's liberty, no more do four, eight, sixteen,
or six thousand. For nothing however multiplied comes to but nothing. If there be nothing
in the nature of Motive or moral suasion, that is at all opposite to liberty, then the greatest
degree of it cannot hurt liberty. But if there be somewhat, in the nature of the thing, against
liberty, then the least degree of it hurts in some degree; and consequently diminishes virtue.
If invincible Motives to that action which is good, take away all the freedom of the act, and
so all the virtue of it; then the more forcible the Motives are, so much the worse, so much
the less virtue; and the weaker the Motives are, the better for the cause of virtue; and none
is best of all.
Now let it be considered, whether these things are agreeable to common sense. If it should
be allowed, that there are some instances wherein the soul chooses without any motive,
what virtue can there be in such a choice? I am sure there is no prudence or wisdom in it.
Such a choice is made for no good end; being made for no end at all. If it were for any end,
the view of the end would be the motive exciting to the act; and if the act be for no good
end, and so from no good aim, then there is no good intention in it: and, therefore, according
to all our natural notions of virtue, no more virtue in it than in the motion of the smoke,
which is driven to and fro by the wind, without any aim or end in the thing moved, and
which knows not whither, nor wherefore, it is moved.
Corol. 1. By these things it appears, that the argument against the Calvinists, taken from the
use of counsels, exhortations, invitations, expostulations, &c. so much insisted on by
Arminians, is truly against themselves. For these thing's can operate no other way to any
good effect, than as in them is exhibited Motive and Inducement, tending to excite and determine
the acts of the will. But it follows, on their principles, that the acts of will excited
by such causes, cannot be virtuous; because, so far as they are from these, they are not from
the Will's self-determining power. Hence it will follow, that it is not worth while to offer
any arguments to persuade men to any virtuous volition or voluntary action; it is in vain to
set before them the wisdom and amiableness of ways of virtue, or the odiousness and folly
of way of vice. This notion of liberty and moral Agency frustrates all endeavours to draw
men to virtue by instruction or persuasion, precept or example: for though these things may
induce them to what is materially virtuous, yet at the same time they take away the form of
virtue, because they destroy liberty; as they, by their own power, put the Will out of its
equilibrium, determine and turn the scale, and take the work of self-determining power out
of its hands. And the clearer the instructions given, the more powerful the arguments used,
and the more moving the persuasions or examples, the more likely they are to frustrate their
own design; because they have so much the greater tendency to put the Will out of its balance,
to hinder its freedom of self-determination; and so to exclude the very form of virtue, and
the essence of whatsoever is praiseworthy.
So it clearly follows, from these principles, that God has no hand in any man's virtue, nor
does at all promote it, either by a physical or moral influence; that none of the moral
methods he uses with men to promote virtue in the world, have any tendency to the attainment
of that end; that all the instructions he has given men, from the beginning of the world
to this day, by prophets or apostles, or by his Son Jesus Christ; that all his counsels, invitations,
promises, threatenings, warnings, and expostulations; that all means he has used with men,
in ordinances, or providences; yea, all influences of his Spirit, ordinary and extraordinary,
have had no tendency at all to excite any one virtuous act of the mind, or to promote any
thing morally good and commendable, in any respect.- For there is no way that these or
any other means can promote virtue, but one of these three. Either, (1.) By a physical operation
on the heart. But all effects that are wrought in men in this way, have no virtue in
them, by the concurring voice of all Arminians. Or, (2.) Morally, by exhibiting Motives to
the understandings, to excite good acts in the Will. But it has been demonstrated, that volitions
excited by Motives, are necessary, and not excited by a self-moving power; and therefore,
by their principles, there is no virtue in them. Or, (3.) By merely giving the Will an opportunity
to determine itself concerning the objects proposed, either to choose or reject, by its
own uncaused, unmoved, uninfluenced self-determination. And if this be all, then all those
means do no more to promote virtue than vice: for they do nothing but give the Will opportunity
to determine itself either way, either to good or bad, without laying it under any bias
to either: and so there is really as much of an opportunity given to determine in favour of
evil, as of good.
Thus that horrid blasphemous consequence will certainly follow from the Arminian doctrine,
which they charge on others; namely, that God acts an inconsistent part in using so many
counsels, warnings, invitations, entreaties, &c. with sinners, to induce them to forsake sin,
and turn to the ways of virtue; and that all are insincere and fallacious. It will follow, from
their doctrine, that God does these things when he knows, at the same time, that they have
no manner of tendency to promote the effect he seems to aim at; yea, knows that if they
have any influence, this very influence will be inconsistent with such an effect, and will
prevent it. But what an imputation of insincerity would this fix on him, who is infinitely
holy and true! - So that theirs is the doctrine which, if pursued in its consequences, does
horribly reflect on the Most High, and fix on him the charge of hypocrisy; and not the doctrine
of the Calvinist, according to their frequent and vehement exclamations and invectives.
Corol 2. From what has been observed in this section, it again appears, that Arminian
principles and notions, when fairly examined and pursued in their demonstrable consequences,
do evidently shut all virtue out of the world, and make it impossible that there
should ever be any such thing, in any case; or that any such thing should ever be conceived
of. For, by these principles, the very notion of virtue or vice implies absurdity and contradiction.
For it is absurd in itself, and contrary to common sense, to suppose a virtuous act
of mind without any good intention or aim; and, by their principles, it is absurd to suppose
a virtuous act with a good intention or aim; for to act for an end, is to act from a Motive.
So that if we rely on these principles, there can be no virtuous act with a good design and
end; and it is self-evident, there can be none without: consequently there can be no virtuous
act at all.
Corol. 3. It is manifest, that Arminian notions of moral Agency, and the being of a faculty
of Will, cannot consist together; and that if there can be any such thing as either a virtuous
or vicious act, it cannot be an act of the Will; no Will can be at all concerned in it. For that
act which is performed without inclination, without Motive, without end, must be performed
without any concern of the Will. To suppose an act of the Will without these, implies a
contradiction. If the soul in its act has no motive or end; then, in that act (as was observed
before) it seeks nothing, goes after nothing, exerts no inclination to any thing; and this implies,
that in that act it desires nothing, and chooses nothing; so that there is no act of choice
in the case: and that is as much as to say, there is no act of Will in the case. Which very effectually
shuts all vicious and virtuous acts out of the universe; inasmuch as, according to
this, there can be no vicious or virtuous act wherein the Will is concerned: and according
to the plainest dictates of reason, and the light of nature, and also the principles of Arminians
themselves, there can be no virtuous or vicious act wherein the Will is not concerned. And
therefore there is no room for any virtuous or vicious acts at all.
Corol. 4. If none of the moral actions of intelligent beings are influenced by either previous
inclination or motives, another strange thing will follow; and this is, that God not only
cannot foreknow any of the future moral actions of his creatures, but he can make no conjecture,
can give no probable guess concerning them. For all conjecture in things of this
nature must depend on some discerning or apprehension of these two things, previous
Disposition and Motive, which, as has been observed, Arminian notions of moral Agency,
in their real consequence, altogether exclude.
PART IV.
WHEREIN THE CHIEF GROUNDS OF THE REASONINGS OF ARMINIANS,
IN SUPPORT AND DEFENSE OF THE AFOREMENTIONED NOTIONS OF
LIBERTY, MORAL AGENCY, &C. AND AGAINST THE OPPOSITE
DOCTRINE, ARE CONSIDERED.
Section I.
The Essence Of The Virtue and Vice Of Dispositions Of the Heart and Acts of the Will,
Lies Not In Their Cause, But Their Nature.
One main foundation of the reasons, which are brought to establish the fore-mentioned
notions of liberty, virtue, vice, &c. is a supposition, that the virtuousness of the dispositions,
or acts of the will, consists not in the nature of these dispositions or acts, but wholly in the
origin or cause of them: so that if the disposition of the mind, or acts of the will, be never
so good, yet if the cause of the disposition or act be not our virtue, there is nothing virtuous
or praiseworthy in it; and, on the contrary, if the will, in its inclination or acts, be never so
bad, yet unless it arises from something that is our vice or fault, there is nothing vicious or
blameworthy in it. Hence their grand objection and pretended demonstration, or selfevidence,
against any virtue and commendableness, or vice and blameworthiness, of those
habits or acts of the Will, which are not from some virtuous or vicious determination of the
will itself.
Now, if this matter be well considered, it will appear to be altogether a mistake, yea, a gross
absurdity; and that it is most certain, that if there be any such things as a virtuous or vicious
disposition, or volition of mind, the virtuousness or viciousness of them consists not in the
origin or cause of these things, but in the nature of them.
If the essence of virtuousness or commendableness, and of viciousness or fault, does not lie
in the nature of the dispositions or acts of mind, which are said to be our virtue or our fault,
but in their cause, then it is certain it lies no where at all. Thus, for instance, if the vice of a
vicious act of will lies not in the nature of the act, but the cause; so that its being of a bad
nature will not make it at all our fault, unless it arises from some faulty determination of
ours, as its cause, or something in us that is our fault; then, for the same reason, neither can
the viciousness of that cause lie in the nature of the thing itself, but in its cause: that evil
determination of ours is not our fault, merely because it is of a bad nature, unless it arises
from some cause in us that is our fault. And when we are come to this higher cause, still the
reason of the thing holds good; though this cause be of a bad nature, yet we are not at all to
blame on that account, unless it arises from something faulty in us. Nor yet can blameworthiness
lie in the nature of this cause but in the cause of that. And thus we must drive faultiness
back from step to step, from a lower cause to a higher, in infinitum; and that is thoroughly
to banish it from the world, and to allow it no possibility of existence any where in
the universality of things. On these principles, vice, or moral evil cannot exist in any thing
that is an effect; because fault does not consist in the nature of things, but in their cause; as
well as because effects are necessary, being unavoidably connected with their cause: therefore
the cause only is to blame. And so it follows, that faultiness can lie only in that cause, which
is a cause only, and no effect of anything. Nor yet can it lie in this; for then it must lie in the
nature of the thing itself; not in its being from any determination of ours, nor anything
faulty in us, which is the cause, nor indeed from any cause at all; for, by the supposition, it
is no effect, and has no cause. And thus he that will maintain it is not the nature of habits
or acts of will that makes them virtuous or faulty, but the cause, must immediately run
himself out of his own assertion; and, in maintaining it, will insensibly contradict and deny
it.
This is certain, that if effects are vicious and faulty, not from their nature, or from any thing
inherent in them, but because they are from a bad cause, it must be on account of the badness
of the cause: a bad effect in the will must be bad, because the cause is bad, or of an evil nature,
or has badness as a quality inherent in it: and a good effect in the will must be good, by
reason of the goodness of the cause, or its being of a good kind and nature. And if this be
what is meant, the very supposition of fault and praise lying not in the nature of the thing,
but the cause, contradicts itself, and does at least resolve the essence of virtue and vice into
the nature of things, and supposes it originally to consist in that.- And if a caviler has a
mind to run from the absurdity, by saying, "No, the fault of the thing, which is the cause,
lies not in this, that the cause itself is of an evil nature, but that the cause is evil in that sense,
that it is from another bad cause," - still the absurdity will follow him; for if so, then the
cause before charged is at once acquitted, and all the blame must be laid to the higher cause,
and must consist in that's being evil, or of an evil nature. So now we are come again to lay
the blame of the thing blameworthy, to the nature of the thing, and not to the cause. And
if any is so foolish as to go higher still, and ascend from step to step, till he is come to that
which is the first cause concerned in the whole affair, and will say, all the blame lies in that;
then, at last, he must be forced to own, that the faultiness of the thing which he supposes
alone blameworthy, lies wholly in the nature of the thing, and not in the original or cause
of it; for the supposition is, that it has no original, it is determined by no act of ours, is caused
by nothing faulty in us, being absolutely without any cause. And so the race is at an end,
but the evader is taken in his flight!
It is agreeable to the natural notions of mankind, that moral evil, with its desert of dislike
and abhorrence, and all its other ill-deservings, consists in a certain deformity in the nature
of certain dispositions of the heart and acts of the will; and not in the deformity of something
else, diverse from the very thing itself; which deserves abhorrence, supposed to be the cause
of it;- - which would be absurd, because that would be to suppose a thing that is innocent
and not evil, is truly evil and faulty, because another thing is evil. It implies a contradiction;
for it would be to suppose, the very thing which is morally evil and blameworthy, is innocent
and not blameworthy; but that something else, which is its cause, is only to blame. To say,
that vice does not consist in the thing which is vicious, but in its cause, is the same as to say,
that vice does not consist in vice, but in that which produces it.
It is true a cause may be to blame for being the cause of vice: it may be wickedness in the
cause that it produces wickedness. But it would imply a contradiction, to suppose that these
two are the same individual wickedness. The wicked act of the cause in producing wickedness,
is one wickedness; and the wickedness produced, if there be any produced, is another. And
therefore the wickedness of the latter does not lie in the former, but is distinct from it; and
the wickedness of both lies in the evil nature of the things which are wicked.
The thing which makes sin hateful, is that by which it deserves punishment; which is but
the expression of hatred. And that which renders virtue lovely, is the same with that on the
account of which it is fit to receive praise and reward; which are but the expressions of esteem
and love. But that which makes vice hateful, is its hateful nature; and that which renders
virtue lovely, is its amiable nature. It is a certain beauty or deformity that are inherent in
that good or evil will, which is the soul of virtue and vice (and not in the occasion of it),
which is their worthiness of esteem or disesteem, praise, or dispraise, according to the
common sense of mankind. If the cause or occasion of the rise of a hateful disposition or
act of will, be also hateful, suppose another antecedent evil will; that is entirely another sin,
and, deserves punishment by itself, under a distinct consideration. There is worthiness of
dispraise in the nature of an evil volition, and not wholly in some foregoing act, which is its
cause; otherwise the evil volition, which is the effect, is no moral evil, any more than sickness,
or some other natural calamity, which arises from a cause morally evil.
Thus, for instance, ingratitude is hateful and worthy of dispraise, according to common
sense; not because something as bad, or worse than ingratitude, was the cause that produced
it; but because it is hateful in itself, inherent deformity. So, the love of virtue is amiable and
worthy of praise, not merely because something else went before this love of virtue in our
minds, which caused it to take place there; - for instance, our own choice; we choose to
love virtue, and, by some method or other, wrought ourselves into the love of it; - but because
of the amiableness and condescendency of such a disposition and inclination of heart.
If that was the case, that we did choose to love virtue, and so produced that love in ourselves,
this choice itself could be no otherwise amiable or praiseworthy, than as love to virtue, or
some other amiable inclination, was exercised and implied in it. If that choice was amiable
at all, it must be so on account of some amiable quality in the nature of the choice. If we
chose to love virtue, not in love to virtue, or any thing that was good and exercised no sort
of good disposition to the choice, the choice itself was not virtuous nor worthy of any praise,
according to common sense, because the choice was not of a good nature.
It may not be improper here to take notice of something said by an author, that has lately
made a mighty noise in America. "A necessary holiness (says he) is no holiness. Adam could
not be originally created in righteousness and true holiness, because he must choose to be
righteous, before he could be righteous. And therefore he must exist, he must be created;
yea, he must exercise thought and reflection, before he was righteous." There is much more
to the same effect in that place, and also in pp. 437, 438, 439, 440. If these things are so, it
will certainly follow, that the first choosing to be righteous is no righteous choice; there is
no righteousness or holiness in it, because no choosing to be righteous goes before it. For
he plainly speaks of choosing to be righteous, as what must go before righteousness; and
that which follows the choice, being the effect of the choice, cannot be righteousness or
holiness; for an effect is a thing necessary, and cannot prevent the influence or efficacy of
its cause; and therefore is unavoidably dependent upon the cause; and he says a necessary
holiness is no holiness. So that neither can a choice of righteousness be righteousness or
holiness, nor can any thing that is consequent on that choice, and the effect of it, be righteousness
or holiness; nor can any thing that is without choice, be righteousness or holiness.
So that by this scheme, all righteousness and holiness is at once shut out of the world, and
no door left open by which it can ever possibly enter into the world.
I suppose the way that men came to entertain this absurd inconsistent notion, with respect
to internal inclinations and volitions themselves (or notions that imply it,) viz. that the essence
of their moral good or evil lies not in their nature, but their cause, was, that it is indeed
a very plain dictate of common sense, that it is so with respect to all outward actions and
sensible motions of the body; that the moral good or evil of them does not lie at all in the
motions themselves, which, taken by themselves, are nothing of a moral nature; and the
essence of all the moral good or evil that concerns them, lies in those internal dispositions
and volitions which are the cause of them. Now, being always used to determine this, without
hesitation or dispute, concerning external actions, which are the things that, in the common
use of language, are signified by such phrases as men's actions, or their doings; hence, when
they came to speak of volitions, and internal exercises of their inclinations, under the same
denomination of their actions, or what they do, they unwarily determined the case must
also be the same with these as with external actions; not considering the vast difference in
the nature of the case.
If any shall still object and say, why is it not necessary that the cause should be considered,
in order to determine whether any thing be worthy of blame or praise is it agreeable to
reason and common sense, that a man is to be praised or blamed for that which he is not
the cause or author of, and has no hand in?
I answer: Such phrases as being the cause, being the author, having a hand, and the like, are
ambiguous. They are most vulgarly understood for being the designing voluntary cause, or
cause by antecedent choice; and it is most certain, that men are not, in this sense, the causes
or authors of the first act of their wills, in any case, as certain as any thing is or ever can be;
for nothing can be more certain than that a thing is not before it is, nor a thing of the same
kind before the first thing of that kind, and so no choice before the first choice.- As the
phrase, being the author, may be understood, not of being the producer by an antecedent
act of will, but as a person maybe said to be the author of the act of will itself, by his being
the immediate agent, or the being that is acting, or in exercise in that act; if the phrase of
being the author is used to signify this, then doubtless common sense requires men's being
the authors of their own acts of will, in order to their being esteemed worthy of praise or
dispraise, on account of them. And common sense teaches, that they must be the authors
of external actions, in the former sense, namely, their being the causes of them by an act of
will or choice, in order to their being justly blamed or praised: but it teaches no such thing
with respect to the acts of the will themselves. But this may appear more manifest by the
things which will be observed in the following section.
Section II.
The Falseness and Inconsistence of that Metaphysical Notion of Action and Agency
Which Seems to be Generally Entertained by the Defenders of the Arminian Doctrine
concerning Liberty, Moral Agency, &c.
One thing, that is made very much a ground of argument and supposed demonstration by
Arminians, in defense of the fore-mentioned principles concerning moral agency, virtue,
vice, &c., is their metaphysical notion of agency and action. They say, unless the soul has a
self-determining power, it has no power of action; if its volitions be not caused by itself, but
are excited and determined by some extrinsic cause, they cannot be the soul's own acts; and
that the soul cannot be active, but must be wholly passive, in those effects which it is the
subject of necessarily, and not from its own free determination.
Mr. Chubb lays the foundation of his scheme of liberty, and of his arguments to support it,
very much in this position, that man is an agent, and capable of action,- which doubtless
is true: but self-determination belongs to his notion of action, and is the very essence of it;
whence he infers, that it is impossible for a man to act and be acted upon, in the same thing,
at the same time; and that nothing that is an action, can be the effect of the action of another: and he insists, that a necessary agent, or an agent that is necessarily determined to act, is a
plain contradiction.
But those are a precarious sort of demonstrations, which men build on the meaning that
they arbitrarily affix to a word; especially when that meaning is abstruse, inconsistent, and
entirely diverse from the original sense of the word in common speech.
That the meaning of the word action, as Mr. Chubb and many others use it, is utterly unintelligible
and inconsistent, is manifest, because it belongs to their notion of an action, that
it is something wherein is no passion or passiveness; that is, (according to their sense of
passiveness,) it is under the power, influence, or action of no cause. And this implies, that
action has no cause, and is no effect; for to be an effect implies passiveness, or the being
subject to the power and action of its cause. And yet they hold, that the mind's action is the
effect of its own determination; yea, the mind's free and voluntary determination, which is
the same with free choice. So that action is the effect of something preceding, even a preceding
act of choice: and consequently, in this effect, the mind is passive, subject to the power and
action of the preceding cause, which is the foregoing choice, and therefore cannot be active.
So that here we have this contradiction, that action is always the effect of foregoing choice,
and therefore cannot be action; because it is passive to the power of that preceding causal
choice; and the mind cannot be active and passive in the same thing, at the same time. Again,
they say, necessity is utterly inconsistent with action, and a necessary action is a contradiction;
and so their notion of action implies contingence, and excludes all necessity. And, therefore,
their notion of action implies, that it has no necessary dependence or connection with any
thing foregoing; for such a dependence or connection excludes contingence, and implies
necessity. And yet their notion of action implies necessity, and supposes that it is necessary,
and cannot be contingent. For they suppose, that whatever is properly called action, must
be determined by the will and free choice; and this is as much as to say, that it must be necessary,
being dependent upon, and determined by, something foregoing, namely, a foregoing
act of choice. Again, it belongs to their notion of action, of that which is a proper and mere
act, that it is the beginning of motion, or of exertion of power, but yet it is implied in their
notion of action, that it is not the beginning of motion or exertion of power, but is consequent
and dependent on a preceding exertion of power, viz. the power of will and choice; for they
say there is no proper action but what is freely chosen, or, which is the same thing, determined
by a foregoing act of free choice. But if any of them shall see cause to deny this, and say they
hold no such thing, as that every action is chosen or determined by a foregoing choice, but
that the very first exertion of will only, undetermined by any preceding act, is properly called
action; then I say, such a man's notion of action implies necessity; for what the mind is the
subject of, without the determination of its own previous choice, it is the subject of necessarily,
as to any hand that free choice has in the affair, and without any ability the mind has
to prevent it by any will or election of its own; because, by the supposition, it precludes all
previous acts of will or choice in the case, which might prevent it. So that it is again, in this
other way, implied in their notion of act, that it is both necessary and not necessary, Again,
it belongs to their notion of an act, that it is no effect of a predetermining bias or preponderation,
but springs immediately out of indifference; and this implies, that it cannot be from
foregoing choice, which is foregoing preponderation: if it be not habitual, but occasional,
yet if it cause the act, it is truly previous, efficacious, and determining. And yet, at the same
time, it is essential to their notion of the act, that it is what the agent is the author of, freely
and voluntarily, and that is by previous choice and design.
So that, according to their notion of the act, considered with regard to its consequences,
these following things are all essential to it; viz. That it should be necessary, and not necessary;
that it should be from a cause, and no cause; that it should be the fruit of choice and design,
and not the fruit of choice and design; that it should be the beginning of motion or exertion,
and yet consequent on previous exertion; that it should be before it is; that it should spring
immediately out of indifference and equilibrium, and yet be the effect of preponderation;
that it should be self-originated, and also have its original from something else; that it is
what the mind causes itself, of its own will, and can produce or prevent, according to its
choice or pleasure, and yet what the mind has no power to prevent, precluding all previous
choice in the affair.
So that an act, according to their metaphysical notion of it, is something of which there is
no idea; it is nothing but a confusion of the mind, excited by words, without any distinct
meaning, and is an absolute nonentity; and that in two respects. (1.) There is nothing in the
world that ever was, is, or can be, to answer the things which must belong to its description,
according to what they suppose to be essential to it. And (2,) there neither is, nor ever was,
nor can be, any notion or idea to answer the word, as they use and explain it. For, if we
should suppose any such notion, it would many ways destroy itself. But it is impossible any
idea or notion should subsist in the mind, whose very nature and essence which constitutes
it, destroys it. If some learned philosopher, who had been abroad, in giving an account of
the curious observations he had made in his travels, should say, "he had been in Terra del
Fuego, and there had seen an animal, which he calls by a certain name, that begat and
brought forth itself, and yet had a sire and dam distinct from itself; that it had an appetite,
and was hungry before it had a being; that his master, who led him, and governed him at
his pleasure, was always governed by him, and driven by him where he pleased; that when
he moved, he always took a step before the first step; that he went with his head first, and
yet always went tail foremost; and this, though he had neither tail nor head:" it would be no
impudence at all to tell such a traveler, though a learned man, that he himself had no notion
or idea of such an animal as he gave an account of, and never had, nor ever should have.
As the fore-mentioned notion of action is very inconsistent, so it is wholly diverse from the
original meaning of the word. The more usual signification of it, in vulgar speech, seems to
be some motion or exertion of power, that is voluntary, or that is the effect of the will, and
is used in the same sense as doing; and most commonly it is used to signify outward actions.
So thinking is often distinguished from acting, and desiring and willing from doing.
Besides this more usual and proper signification of the word action, there are other ways in
which the word is used that are less proper, which yet have place in common speech. Oftentimes
it is used to signify some motion or alteration in inanimate things, with relation to
some object and effect. So, the spring of a watch is said to act upon the chain and wheels;
the sunbeams, to act upon plants and trees; and the fire, to act upon wood. Sometimes the
word is useful to signify motions, alterations, and exertions of power, which are seen in
corporeal things, considered absolutely; especially when these motions seem to arise from
some internal cause which is hidden; so that they have a greater resemblance of those motions
of our bodies which are the effects of natural volition, or invisible exertions of will. So, the
fermentation of liquor, the operations of the loadstone, and of electrical bodies, are called
the action of these things. And sometimes, the word action is used to signify the exercise of
thought, or of will and inclination: so meditating, loving, hating, inclining, disinclining,
choosing, and refusing, may be sometimes called acting; though more rarely (unless it be
by philosophers and metaphysicians) than in any of the other senses.
But the word is never used in vulgar speech in that sense which Arminian divines use it in,
namely, for the self-determinate exercise of the will, or an exertion of the soul, that arises
without any necessary connection with any thing foregoing. If a man does something voluntarily,
or as the effect of his choice, then, in the most proper sense, and as the word is
most originally and commonly used, he is said to act; but whether that choice or volition
be self-determined, or no; whether it be connected with foregoing, habitual bias; whether
it be the certain effect of the strongest motive, or some intrinsic cause, never comes into
consideration in the meaning of the word.
And if the word action is arbitrarily used by some men otherwise, to suit some scheme of
metaphysics or morality, no argument can reasonably be founded on such a use of this term,
to prove any thing but their own pleasure. For divines and philosophers strenuously to urge
such arguments, as though they were sufficient to support and demonstrate a whole scheme
of moral philosophy and divinity, is certainly to erect a mighty edifice on the sand, or rather
on a shadow. And though it may now perhaps, through custom, have become natural for
them to use the word in this sense, (if that may be called a sense or meaning, which is inconsistent
with itself,) yet this does not prove that it is agreeable to the natural notions men
have of things, or that there can be any thing in the creation that should answer such a
meaning. And though they appeal to experience, yet the truth is, that men are so far from
experiencing any such thing, that it is impossible for them to have any conception of it.
If it should be objected, that action and passion are doubtless words of a contrary signification;
but to suppose that the agent, in its action, is under the power and influence of something
intrinsic, is to confound action and passion, and make them the same thing:
I answer, that action and passion are doubtless, as they are sometimes used, words of opposite
signification; but not as signifying opposite existences, but only opposite relations. The
words cause and effect are terms of opposite signification; but, nevertheless, if I assert that,
the same thing may, at the same time, in different respects and relations, be both cause and
effect, this will not prove that I confound the terms. The soul may be both active and passive
in the same thing in different respects; active with relation to one thing, and passive with
relation to another. The word passion, when set in opposition to action, or rather activeness,
is merely a relative: it signifies no effect or cause, nor any proper existence; but is the same
with passiveness, or a being passive, or a being acted upon by something. Which is a mere
relation of a thing to some power or force exerted by some cause, producing some effect in
it or upon it. And action, when set properly in opposition to passion, or passiveness, is no
real existence; it is not the same with an action, but is a mere relation: it is the activeness of
something on another thing, being the opposite relation to the other, viz. a relation of power,
or force, exerted by some cause towards another thing, which is the subject of the effect of
that power. Indeed, the word action is frequently used to signify something not merely relative,
but more absolute, and a real existence; as when we say an action; when the word is
not used transitively, but absolutely, for some motion or exercise of body or mind, without
any relation to any object or effect: and as used thus, it is not properly the opposite of passion,
which ordinarily signifies nothing absolute, but merely the relation of being acted upon.
And therefore, if the word action be useful in the like relative sense, then action and passion
are only two contrary relations. And it is no absurdity to suppose, that contrary relations
may belong to the same thing, at the same time, with respect to different things. So, to suppose
that there are acts of the soul by which a man voluntarily moves, and acts upon objects, and
produces effects which yet themselves are effects of something else, and wherein the soul
itself is the object of something acting upon, and influencing that, does not at all confound
action and passion. The words may nevertheless be properly of opposite signification: there
may be as true and real a difference between acting and being caused to act, though we
should suppose the soul to be both in the same volition, as there is between living and being
quickened, or made to live. It is no more a contradiction, to suppose that action may be the
effect of some other cause besides the agent or being that acts, than to suppose, that life may
be the effect of some other cause, besides the liver, or the being that lives, in whom life is
caused to be.
The thing which has led men into this inconsistent notion of action, when applied to volition,
as though it were essential to this internal action, that the agent should be self-determined
in it, and that the will should be the cause of it, was probably this,- that, according to the
sense of mankind, and the common use of language, it is so, with respect to men's external
actions, which are what originally, and according to the vulgar use and most proper sense
of the word, are called actions. Men in these are self-directed, self-determined, and their
wills are the cause of the motions of their bodies, and the external things that are done; so
that unless men do them voluntarily, and of choice, and the action be determined by their
antecedent volition, it is no action or doing of theirs. Hence some metaphysicians have been
led unwarily, but exceeding absurdly, to suppose the same concerning volition itself, that
that also must be determined by the will; which is to be determined by antecedent volition,
as the motion of the body is; not considering the contradiction it implies.
But it is very evident, that in the metaphysical distinction between action and passion,
(though long since become common and the general vogue,) due care has not been taken
to conform language to the nature of things, or to any distinct, clear ideas; - as it is in innumerable
other philosophical, metaphysical terms, used in these disputes; which has occasioned
inexpressible difficulty, contention, error, and confusion.
And thus probably it came to be thought that necessity was inconsistent with action, as these
terms are applied to volition. First, these terms, action and necessity, are changed from their
original meaning, as signifying external voluntary action and constraint, (in which meaning
they are evidently inconsistent,) to signify quite other things, viz. volition itself, and certainty
of existence. And when the change of signification is made, care is not taken to make
proper allowances and abatements for the difference of sense; but still the same things are
unwarily attributed to action and necessity, in the new meaning of the words, which plainly
belonged to them in their first sense; and on this ground, maxims are established without
any real foundation, as though they were the most certain truths, and the most evident
dictates of reason.
But, however strenuously it is maintained, that what is necessary cannot be properly called
action, and that a necessary action is a contradiction, yet it is probable there are few
Arminian divines, who, if thoroughly tried, would stand to these principles. They will allow,
that God is, in the highest sense, an active being, and the highest fountain of life and action;
and they would not probably deny, that those that are called God's acts of righteousness,
holiness, and faithfulness, are truly and properly God's acts, and God is really a holy agent
in them; and yet, I trust, they will not deny, that God necessarily acts justly and faithfully,
and that it is impossible for Him to act unrighteously and unholy.
Section III.
The Reasons Why Some Think It Contrary To Common Sense, To Suppose Those Things
Which Are Necessary, To Be Worthy of Either Praise Or Blame.
It is abundantly affirmed and urged by Arminian writers, that it is contrary to common
sense, and the natural notions and apprehensions of mankind, to suppose otherwise than
that necessity (making no distinction between natural and moral necessity) is inconsistent,
with virtue and vice, praise and blame, reward and punishment. And their arguments from
hence have been greatly triumphed in; and have been not a little perplexing to many, who
have been friendly to the truth, as clearly revealed in the holy Scriptures: it has seemed to
them indeed difficult, to reconcile Calvinistic doctrines with the notions men commonly
have of justice and equity. And the true reasons of it seem to be these that follow.
I. It is indeed a very plain dictate of common sense, that natural necessity is wholly inconsistent
with just praise or blame. If men do things which in themselves are very good, fit to
be brought to pass, and very happy effects, properly against their wills, and cannot help it;
or do them from a necessity that is without their wills, or with which their wills have no
concern or connection; then it is a plain dictate of common sense, that it is none of their
virtue, nor any moral good in them; and that they are not worthy to be rewarded or praised,
or at all esteemed, honoured, or loved on that account. And, on the other hand, that if, from
like necessity, they do those things which in themselves are very unhappy and pernicious,
and do them because they cannot help it; the necessity is such, that it is all one whether they
will them or no; and the reason why they are done, is from necessity only, and not from
their wills: it is a very plain dictate of common sense, that they are not at all to blame; there
is no vice, fault, or moral evil at all in the effect done; nor are they who are thus necessitated,
in any wise worthy to be punished, hated, or in the least disrespected, on that account.
In like manner, if things, in them selves good and desirable, are absolutely impossible, with
a natural impossibility, the universal reason of mankind teaches, that this wholly and perfectly
excuses persons in their not doing them.
And it is also a plain dictate of common sense, that if the doing things in themselves good,
or avoiding things in themselves evil, is not absolutely impossible, with such a natural impossibility,
but very difficult, with a natural difficulty, that is, a difficulty prior to, and not
at all consisting in, will and inclination itself, and which would remain the same, let the inclination
be what it will; then a person's neglect or omission is excused in some measure,
though not wholly; his sin is less aggravated than if the thing to be done were easy. And if
instead of difficulty and hindrance, there be a contrary natural propensity in the state of
things to the thing to be done, or effect to he brought to pass, abstracted from any consideration
of the inclination of the heart; though the propensity be not so great as to amount to
a natural necessity, yet being some approach to it, so that the doing the good thing be very
much from this natural tendency in the state of things, and but little from a good inclination;
then it is a dictate of common sense, that there is so much the less virtue in what is done;
and so it is less praiseworthy and rewardable. The reason is easy, viz. because such a natural
propensity or tendency is an approach to natural necessity; and the greater the propensity,
still so much the nearer is the approach to necessity. And, therefore, as natural necessity
takes away or shuts out all virtue, so this propensity approaches to an abolition of virtue;
that is, it diminishes it. And, on the other hand, natural difficulty, in the state of things, is
an approach to natural impossibility. And as the latter, when it is complete and absolute,
wholly takes away blame, so such difficulty takes away some blame, or diminishes blame;
and makes the thing done to be less worthy of punishment.
II. Men, in their first use of such phrases as these, must, cannot, cannot help it, cannot avoid
it, necessary, unable, impossible, unavoidable, irresistible, &c., use them to signify a necessity
of constraint or restraint, a natural necessity or impossibility; or some necessity that the will
has nothing to do in; which may be, whether men will or no; and which may be supposed
to be just the same, let men's inclinations and desires be what they will. Such kind of terms,
in their original use, I suppose, among all nations, are relative; carrying in their signification
(as was before observed) a reference or respect to some contrary will, desire, or endeavour,
which, it is supposed, is, or may be, in the case. All men find, and begin to find in early
childhood, that there are innumerable things that cannot be done, which they desire to do;
and innumerable things, which they are averse to, that must be,- they cannot avoid them,
they will be, whether they choose them or no. It is to express this necessity, which men so
soon and so often find, and which so greatly and early affects them in innumerable cases,
that such terms and phrases are first formed; and it is to signify such a necessity, that they
are first used, and that they are most constantly used, in the common affairs of life; and not
to signify any such metaphysical, speculative, and abstract notion, as that connection in the
nature or course of things, which is between the subject and predicate of a proposition, and
which is the foundation of the certain truth of that proposition; to signify which, they who
employ themselves in philosophical inquiries into the first origin and metaphysical relations
and dependencies of things, have borrowed these terms, for want of others. But we grow
up from our cradles in a use of such terms and phrases entirely different from this, and
carrying a sense exceeding diverse from that in which they are commonly used in the controversy
between Arminians and Calvinists. And it being, as was said before, a dictate of
the universal sense of mankind, evident to us as soon as we begin to think, that the necessity
signified by these terms, in the sense in which we first learn them, does excuse persons and
free them from all fault or blame; hence our idea of excusableness or faultlessness is tied to
these terms and phrases by a strong habit, which is begun in childhood, as soon as we begin
to speak, and grows up with us, and is strengthened by constant use and custom, the connection
growing stronger and stronger.
The habitual connection which is in men's minds between blamelessness and those aforementioned
terms, must, cannot, unable, necessary, impossible, unavoidable, &c. becomes
very strong; because as soon as ever men begin to use reason and speech, they have occasion
to excuse themselves, from the natural necessity signified by these terms, in numerous instances
- I cannot do it; I could not help it. And all mankind have constant and daily occasion
to use such phrases in this sense, to excuse themselves and others, in almost all the
concerns of life, with respect to disappointments and things that happen, which concern
and affect ourselves and others, that are hurtful, or disagreeable to us or them, or things
desirable, that we or others fail of.
That a being accustomed to an union of different ideas, from early childhood, makes the
habitual connection exceeding strong, as though such connection were owing to nature, is
manifest in innumerable instances. It is altogether by such an habitual connection of ideas,
that men judge of the bigness or distance of the objects of sight, from their appearance.
Thus, it is owing to such a connection early established, and growing up with a person, that
he judges a mountain, which he sees at ten miles distance, to be bigger than his nose, or
further off than the end of it. Having been used so long to join a considerable distance and
magnitude with such an appearance, men imagine it is by a dictate of natural sense: whereas,
it would be quite otherwise with one that had his eyes newly opened, who had been born
blind: he would have the same visible appearance, but natural sense would dictate no such
thing, concerning the magnitude or distance of what appeared.
III. When men, after they had been so habituated to connect ideas of innocency or blamelessness
with such terms, that the union seems to be the effect of mere nature, come to hear
the same terms used, and learn to use them themselves, in the fore-mentioned new and
metaphysical sense, to signify quite another sort of necessity, which has no such kind of relation
to a contrary supposable will and endeavour; the notation of plain and manifest
blamelessness, by this means, is, by a strong prejudice, insensibly and unwarily transferred
to a case to which it by no means belongs: the change of the use of the terms, to a signification
which is very diverse, not being taken notice of, or adverted to. And there are several reasons
why it is not.
1. The terms, as used by philosophers, are not very distinct and clear in their meaning: few
use them in a fixed, determined sense. On the contrary, their meaning is very vague and
confused,- which is what commonly happens to the words used to signify things intellectual
and moral, and to express what Mr. Locke calls mixed modes. If men had a clear and
distinct understanding of what is intended by these metaphysical terms, they would be able
more easily to compare them with their original and common sense; and so would not be
so easily led into delusion by any sort of terms in the world, as by words of this sort.
2. The change of the signification of the terms, is the more insensible, because the things
signified, though indeed very different, yet do in some generals agree. In necessity, that
which is vulgarly so called, there is a strong connection between the thing said to be necessary,
and some thing antecedent to it in the order of nature; so there is also in philosophical necessity.
And though in both kinds of necessity the connection cannot be called by that name,
with relation to an opposite will or endeavour, to which it is superior; which is the case in
vulgar necessity; yet, in both the connection is prior to will and endeavour, and so, in some
respect, superior. In both kinds of necessity, there is a foundation for some certainty of the
proposition that affirms the event.- The terms used being the same, and the things signified
agreeing in these and some other general circumstances; and the expressions, as used by
philosophers, being not well defined, and so of obscure and loose signification; hence persons
are not aware of the great difference and the notions of innocence or faultiness, which were
so strongly associated with them, and were strictly united in their minds, ever since they
can remember, remain united with them still, as if the union were altogether natural and
necessary; and they that go about to make a separation, seem to them to do great violence,
even to nature itself.
IV. Another reason why it appears difficult to reconcile it with reason, that men should be
blamed for that which is necessary with a moral necessity, (which, as was observed before,
is a species of philosophical necessity) is, that for want of due consideration, men inwardly
entertain that apprehension, that this necessity may be against men's wills and sincere endeavors.
They go away with that notion, that men may truly will, and wish, and strive, that
it may be otherwise, but that invincible necessity stands in the way. And many think thus
concerning themselves: some, that are wicked men, think they wish that they were good,
that they love God and holiness; but yet do not find that their wishes produce the effect.-
The reasons why men think so, are as follow: (1.) They find what may be called an indirect
willingness to have a better will, in the manner before observed. For it is impossible, and a
contradiction, to suppose the will to be directly and properly against itself. And they do not
consider, that this indirect willingness is entirely a different thing from properly willing the
thing that is the duty and virtue required; and that there is no virtue in that sort of willingness
which they have. They do not consider, that the volitions which a wicked man may have
that he loved God, are no acts of the will at all against the moral evil of not loving God; but
only some disagreeable consequences. But the making the requisite distinction requires
more care of reflection and thought than most men are used to. And men, through a prejudice
in their own favour, are disposed to think well of their own desires and dispositions, and to
account them good and virtuous, though their respect to virtue be only indirect and remote,
and it is nothing at all that is virtuous that truly excites or terminates their inclinations. (2.)
Another thing that insensibly lends and beguiles men into a supposition that this moral
necessity or impossibility is, or may be, against men's wills and true endeavors, is the derivation
and formation of the terms themselves, that are often used to express it, which is such
as seems directly to point to, and holds this forth. Such words, for instance, as unable, unavoidable,
impossible, irresistible, which carry a plain reference to a supposable power exerted,
endeavors used, resistance made, in opposition to the necessity; and the persons that
hear them, not considering nor suspecting but that they are used in their proper sense; that
sense being therefore understood, there does naturally, and as it were necessarily, arise in
their minds a supposition, that it may be so indeed, that true desires and endeavors may
take place, but that invincible necessity stands in the way, and renders them vain and to no
effect.
V. Another thing, which makes persons more ready to suppose it to be contrary to reason,
that men should be exposed to the punishments threatened to sin, for doing those things
which are morally necessary, or not doing those things morally impossible, is, that imagination
strengthens the argument, and adds greatly to the power and influence of the seeming
reasons against it, from the greatness of that punishment. To allow that they may be justly
exposed to a small punishment, would not be so difficult. Whereas, if there were any good
reason in the case, if it were truly a dictate of reason, that such necessity was inconsistent
with faultiness, or just punishment, the demonstration would be equally certain with respect
to a small punishment, or any punishment at all, as a very great one; but it is not equally
easy to the imagination. They that argue against the justice of damning men for those things
that are thus necessary, seem to make their argument the stronger, by setting forth the
greatness of the punishment in strong expressions: - " That a man should be cast into
eternal burnings, that he should be made to fry in hell to all eternity, for those things which
he had no power to avoid, and was under a fatal, unfrustrable, invincible necessity of doing."
Section IV.
It Is Agreeable To Common sense, And The Natural Notions of Mankind, To Suppose
Moral Necessity To Be Consistent With Praise And Blame, Reward And Punishment.
Whether the reasons that have been given, why it appears difficult to some persons to reconcile
with common sense the praising or blaming, rewarding or punishing those things which
are morally necessary, are thought satisfactory, or not; yet it most evidently appears, by the
following things, that if this matter be rightly understood, setting aside all delusion arising
from the impropriety and ambiguity of terms, this is not at all inconsistent with the natural
apprehensions of mankind, and that sense of things which is found every where in the
common people, who are furthest from having their thoughts perverted from their natural
channel, by metaphysical and philosophical subtleties; but, on the contrary, altogether
agreeable to, and the very voice and dictate of, this natural and vulgar sense.
1. This will appear, if we consider what the vulgar notion of blameworthiness is. The idea
which the common people, through all ages and nations, have of faultiness, I suppose to be
plainly this; a person's being or doing wrong, with his own will and pleasure; containing
these two things: 1. His doing wrong when he does as he pleases: 2. His pleasures being
wrong. Or, in other words, perhaps more intelligibly expressing their notion, a person's
having his heart wrong; and doing wrong from his heart. And this is the sum total of the
matter.
The common people do not ascend up in their reflections and abstractions to the metaphysical
sources, relations, and dependencies of things, in order to form their notion of faultiness
or blameworthiness. They do not wait till they have decided by their refinings, what first
determines the will; whether it be determined by something extrinsic or intrinsic; whether
volition determines volition, or whether the understanding determines the will; whether
there be any such thing as metaphysicians mean by contingence (if they have any meaning);
whether there be a sort of a strange, unaccountable sovereignty in the will, in the exercise
of which, by its own sovereign acts, it brings to pass all its own sovereign acts. They do not
take any part of their notion of fault or blame from the resolution of any such question. If
this were the case, there are multitudes, yea, the far greater part of mankind, nine hundred
and ninety-nine out of a thousand, would live and die without having any such notion as
that of fault ever entering into their heads, or without so much as one having any conception
that any body was to be either blamed or commended for any thing. To be sure it would be
a long time before men came to have such notions. Whereas it is manifest, they are some
of the first notions that appear in children; who discover, as soon as they can think, or speak,
or act at all as rational creatures, a sense of desert. And certainly, in forming their notion
of it, they make no use of metaphysics. All the ground they go upon consists in these two
things, experience, and a natural sensation of a certain fitness or agreeableness which there
is in uniting such moral evil as is above described, viz, a being or doing wrong with the will,
and resentment in others, and pain inflicted on the person in whom this moral evil is. Which
natural sense is what we call by the name of conscience.
It is true, the common people and children, in their notion of any faulty act or deed, of any
person, do suppose that it is the person's own act and deed. But this is all that belongs to
what they understand by a thing's being a person's own deed or action; even that it is
something done by him of choice. That some exercise or motion should begin of itself, does
not belong to their notion of an action or doing. If so, it would belong to their notion of it,
that it is something which is the cause of its own beginning; and that is as much as to say,
that it is before it begins to be. Nor is their notion of an action, some motion or exercise
that begins accidentally, without any cause or reason; for that is contrary to one of the prime
dictates of common sense, namely, that every thing that begins to be, has some cause or
reason why it is.
The common people, in their notion of a faulty or praiseworthy deed or work done by any
one, do suppose that the man does it in the exercise of liberty. But then their notion of liberty
is only a person's having opportunity of doing as he pleases. They have no notion of liberty
consisting in the will's first acting, and so causing its own acts; and determining, and so
causing its own determinations; or choosing, and so causing its own choice. Such a notion
of liberty is what none have, but those that have darkened their own minds with confused
metaphysical speculation, and abstruse and ambiguous terms. If a man is not restrained
from acting as his will determines, or constrained to act otherwise, then he has liberty, according
to common notions of liberty, without taking into the idea that grand contradiction
of all, the determinations of a man's free will being the effects of the determinations of his
free will.- Nor have men commonly any notion of freedom consisting in indifference. For
if so, then it would he agreeable to their notion, that the greater indifference men act with,
the more freedom they act with; whereas the reverse is true. He that, in acting, proceeds
with the fullest inclination, does what he does with the greatest freedom, according to
common sense. And so far is it from being agreeable to common sense, that such liberty as
consists in indifference is requisite to praise or blame, that, on the contrary, the dictate of
every man's natural sense through the world is, that the further he is from being indifferent
in His acting good or evil, and the more he does either with full and strong inclination, the
more is he esteemed or abhorred, commended or condemned.
II. If it were inconsistent with the common sense of mankind, that men should be either to
be blamed or commended in any volitions they have or fail of, in case of moral necessity or
impossibility; then it would surely also be agreeable to the same sense and reason of mankind,
that the nearer the case approaches to such a moral necessity or impossibility, either through
a strong antecedent moral propensity, on the one hand or a great antecedent opposition
and difficulty on the other, the nearer does it approach to a being neither blameable nor
commendable; so that acts exerted with such preceding propensity, would be worthy of
proportionably less praise; and when omitted, the act being attended with such difficulty,
the omission would be worthy of less blame. It is so, as was observed before, with natural
necessity and impossibility, propensity and difficulty: as it is a plain dictate of the sense of
all mankind, that natural necessity and impossibility take away all blame and praise; and
therefore, that the nearer the approach is to these, through previous propensity or difficulty,
so praise and blame are proportionably diminished. And if it were as much a dictate of
common sense, that moral necessity of doing or impossibility of avoiding takes away all
praise and blame, as that natural necessity or impossibility does this; then, by a perfect parity
of reason, it would be as much the dictate of common sense, that an approach to moral necessity
of doing, or impossibility of avoiding, diminishes praise and blame, as that an approach
to natural necessity and impossibility does so. It is equally the voice of common
sense, that persons are excusable in part in neglecting things difficult against their wills, as
that they are excusable wholly in neglecting things impossible against their wills. And if it
made no difference, whether the impossibility were natural and against the will, or moral
lying in the will, with regard to excusableness; so neither would it make any difference,
whether the difficulty, or approach to necessity, be natural against the will, or moral, lying
in the propensity of the will.
But it is apparent, that the reverse of these things is true. If there be an approach to a moral
necessity in a man's exertion of good acts of will, they being the exercise of a strong propensity
to good, and a very powerful love to virtue; it is so far from being the dictate of common
sense, that he is less virtuous, and the less to be esteemed, loved, and praised; that it is
agreeable to the natural notions of all mankind, that he is so much the better man, worthy
of greater respect, and higher commendation. And the stronger the inclination is, and the
nearer it approaches to necessity in that respect; or to impossibility of neglecting the virtuous
act, or of doing a vicious one; still the more virtuous, and worthy of higher commendation.
And, on the other hand, if a man exerts evil acts of mind; as for instance, acts of pride or
malice, from a rooted and strong habit or principle of haughtiness and maliciousness, and
a violent propensity of heart to such acts; according to the natural sense of men, he is so far
from being the less hateful and blameable on that account, that he is so much the more
worthy to be detested and condemned by all that observe him.
Moreover, it is manifest that it is no part of the notion, which mankind commonly have of
a blameable or praiseworthy act of the will, that it is an act which is not determined by an
antecedent bias or motive, but by the sovereign power of the will itself; because, if so, the
greater hand such causes have in determining any acts of the will, so much the less virtuous
or vicious would they be accounted; and the less hand, the more virtuous or vicious.
Whereas the reverse is true: men do not think a good act to be the less praiseworthy for the
agent's being much determined in it by a good inclination or a good motive, but the more.
And if good inclination or motive has but little influence in determining the agent, they do
not think his act so much the more virtuous, but the less. And so concerning evil acts, which
are determined by evil motives or inclinations.
Yea, if it be supposed, that good or evil dispositions are implanted in the hearts of men by
nature itself; (which, it is certain, is vulgarly supposed in innumerable cases,) yet it is not
commonly supposed, that men are worthy of no praise or dispraise for such dispositions;
although what is natural is undoubtedly necessary, nature being prior to all acts of the will
whatsoever. Thus, for instance, if a man appears to be of a very haughty or malicious disposition,
and is supposed to be so by his natural temper, it is no vulgar notion, no dictate of
the common sense and apprehension of men, that such dispositions are no vices or moral
evils, or that such persons are not worthy of disesteem, or odium and dishonour; or that
the proud or malicious acts which flow from such natural dispositions, are worthy of no
resentment. Yea, such vile natural dispositions, and the strength of them, will commonly
be mentioned rather as an aggravation of the wicked acts that come from such a fountain,
than an extenuation of them. Its being natural for men to act thus, is often observed by men
in the height of their indignation: they will say, "It is his very nature; he is of a vile natural
temper; it is as natural to him to act so, as it is to breathe; he cannot help serving the devil,"
&c. But it is not thus with regard to hurtful, mischievous things, that any are the subjects
or occasions of, by natural necessity, against their inclinations. In such a case, the necessity,
by the common voice of mankind, will be spoken of as a full excuse.- Thus, it is very plain,
that common sense makes a vast difference between these two kinds of necessity, as to the
judgment it makes of their influence on the moral quality and desert of men's actions.
And these dictates of men's minds are so natural and necessary, that it may be very much
doubted whether, the Arminians themselves have ever got rid of them; yea, their greatest
doctors, that have gone furthest in defense of their metaphysical notions of liberty, and have
brought their arguments to their greatest strength, and, as they suppose, to a demonstration,
against the consistence of virtue and vice with any necessity; it is to be questioned, whether
there is so much as one of them, but that, if he suffered very much from the injurious acts
of a man under the power of an invincible haughtiness and malignancy of temper, would
not, from the fore-mentioned natural sense of mind, resent it far otherwise, than if as great
sufferings came upon him from the wind that blows, and fire that burns, by natural necessity;
and otherwise than he would, if he suffered as much from the conduct of a man perfectly
delirious; yea, though he first brought his distraction upon him some way by his own fault.
Some seem to disdain the distinction that we make between natural and moral necessity,
as though it were altogether impertinent in this controversy: "that which is necessary (say
they) is necessary; it is that which must be, and cannot be prevented. And that which is
impossible, is impossible, and cannot be done: and therefore none can be to blame for not
doing it," And such comparisons are made use of, as the commanding of a man to walk who
has lost his legs, and condemning and punishing him for not obeying; inviting and calling
upon a man who is shut up in a strong prison, to come forth, &c. But, in these things,
Arminians are very unreasonable. Let common sense determine whether there be not a
great difference between these two cases; the one, that of a man who has offended his prince,
and is cast into prison; and after he has laid there a while, the king comes to him, calls him
to come forth to him; and tells him, that if he will do so, and will fall down before him, and
humbly beg his pardon, he shall be forgiven and set at liberty, and also be greatly enriched,
and advanced to honour; the prisoner heartily repents of the folly and wickedness of his
offence against his prince, is thoroughly disposed to abase himself, and accept of the king's
offer; but is confined by strong walls, with gates of brass, and bars of iron. The other case
is, that of a man who is of a very unreasonable spirit, of a haughty, ungrateful, wilful disposition;
and, moreover, has been brought up in traitorous principles, and has his heart possessed
with an extreme and inveterate enmity to his lawful sovereign; and for his rebellion is cast
into prison, and lies long there, loaded with heavy chains, and in miserable circumstances.
At length the compassionate prince comes to the prison, orders his chains to be knocked
off, and his prison-doors to be set wide open; calls to him, and tells him, if he will come
forth to him, and fall down before him, acknowledge that he has treated him unworthily,
and ask his forgiveness, he shall be forgiven, set at liberty, and set in a place of great dignity
and profit in his court. But he is stout and stomachful, and full of haughty malignity, that
he cannot be willing to accept the offer: his rooted strong pride and malice have perfect
power over him, and as it were bind him, by binding his heart: the opposition of his heart
has the mastery over him, having an influence on his mind far superior to the king's grace
and condescension, and to all his kind offers and promises. Now, is it agreeable to common
sense to assert, and stand to it, that there is no difference between these two cases, as to any
worthiness of blame in the prisoners; because, forsooth, there is a necessity in both, and the
required act in each case is impossible? It is true, a man's evil dispositions may be as strong
and immoveable as the bars of a castle. But who cannot see, that when a man, in the latter
case, is said to be unable to obey the command, the expression is used improperly, and not
in the sense it has originally, and in common speech; and that it may properly be said to be
in the rebel's power to come out of prison, seeing he can easily do it if he pleases; though
by reason of his vile temper of heart, which is fixed and rooted, it is impossible that it should
please him?
Upon the whole, I presume there is no person of good understanding, who impartially
considers the things which have been observed, but will allow, that it is not evident, from
the dictates of the common sense, or natural notions of mankind, that moral necessity is
inconsistent with praise and blame. And, therefore, if the Arminians would prove any such
inconsistency, it must be by some philosophical and metaphysical arguments, and not
common sense.
There is a grand illusion in the pretended demonstration of Arminians from common sense.
The main strength of all these demonstrations lies in that prejudice, that arises through the
insensible change of the use and meaning of such terms as liberty, able, unable, necessary,
impossible, unavoidable, invincible, action, &c. from their original and vulgar sense, to a
metaphysical sense, entirely diverse; and the strong connection of the ideas of blamelessness,
&c. with some of these terms, by a habit contracted and established while these terms were
used in their first meaning. This prejudice and delusion is the foundation of all those positions
they lay down as maxims, by which most of the Scriptures, which they allege in this controversy,
are interpreted, and on which all their pompous demonstrations from Scripture and
reason depend. From this secret delusion and prejudice they have almost all their advantages;
it is the strength of their bulwarks, and the edge of their weapons. And this is the main
ground of all the right they have to treat their neighbours in so assuming a manner, and to
insult others, perhaps as wise and good as themselves, as weak bigots, men that dwell in the
dark caves of superstition, perversely set, obstinately shutting their eyes against the noonday
light, enemies to common sense, maintaining the first-born of absurdities, &c. &c. But
perhaps an impartial consideration of the things which have been observed in the preceding
parts of this Inquiry, may enable the lovers of truth better to judge, whose doctrine is indeed
absurd, abstruse, self-contradictory, and inconsistent with common sense, and many ways
repugnant to the universal dictates of the reason of mankind.
Corol. From things which have been observed, it will follow, that it is agreeable to common
sense to suppose that the glorified saints have not their freedom at all diminished in any
respect: and that God himself has the highest possible freedom according to the true and
proper meaning of the term; and that he is, in the highest possible respect, an agent and
active in the exercise of his infinite holiness; though he acts therein, in the highest degree
necessarily: and his actions of this kind, are in the highest, most absolutely perfect manner,
virtuous and praiseworthy; and are so, for that very reason, because they are most perfectly
necessary.
Section V.
Concerning Those Objections, That This Scheme Of Necessity Renders All Means and
Endeavours For The Avoiding Of Sin, Or The Obtaining Virtue And Holiness, Vain And
To No Purpose; And That It makes Men No More Than Mere Machines In Affairs Of
Morality And Religion
Arminians say, if it be so, that sin and virtue come to pass by a necessity consisting in a sure
connection of causes and effects, antecedents and consequents, it can never be worth the
while to use any means or endeavours to obtain the one, and avoid the other; seeing no endeavours
can alter the futurity of the event, which is become necessary by a connection
already established.
But I desire that this matter may be fully considered; and that it may be examined with a
thorough strictness, whether it will follow, that endeavours and means, in order to avoid or
obtain any future thing, must be more in vain, on the supposition of such a connection of
antecedents and consequents than if the contrary be supposed.
For endeavours to be in vain, is for them not to be successful; that is to say, for them not
eventually to be the means of the thing aimed at, which cannot be but in one of these two
ways; either, first, That although the means are used, yet the event aimed at does not follow;
or, secondly, If the event does follow, it is not because of the means, or from any connection
or dependence of the event on the means: the event would have come to pass as well without
the means as with them. If either of these two things is the case, then the means are not
properly successful, and are truly in vain. The successfulness or unsuccessfulness of means,
in order to an effect, or their being in vain or not in vain, consists in those means being
connected or not connected with the effect, in such a manner as this, viz. that the effect is
with the means, and not without them; or, that the being of the effect is, on the one hand,
connected with means, and the want of the effect, on the other hand, is connected with the
want of the means. If there be such a connection, as this between means and end, the means
are not in vain; the more there is of such a connection, the further they are from being in
vain; and the less of such a connection, the more they are in vain.
Now, therefore, the question to be answered, (in order to determine, whether it follows from
this doctrine of the necessary connection between foregoing things and consequent ones,
that means used in order to any effect are more in vain than they would be otherwise), is,
whether it follows from it that there is less of the aforementioned connection between means
and effect; that is, whether, on the supposition of there being a real and true connection
between means and effect, than on the supposition of there being no fixed connection
between antecedent things and consequent ones; and the very stating of this question is
sufficient to answer it. It must appear to every one that will open his eyes, that this question
cannot be affirmed without the grossest absurdity and inconsistence. Means are foregoing
things, and effects are following things. And if there were no connection between foregoing
things and following ones, there could be no connection between means and end; and so
all means would be wholly vain and fruitless. For it is by virtue of some connection only,
that they become successful. It is some connection observed or revealed, or otherwise known,
between antecedent things and following ones, that is what directs in the choice of means.
And if there were no such thing as an established connection, there could be no choice as
to means; one thing would have no more tendency to an effect than another; there would
he no such thing as tendency in the case. All those things which are successful means of
other things, do therein prove connected antecedents of them; and therefore, to assert that
a fixed connection between antecedents and consequents makes means vain and useless, or
stands in the way to hinder the connection between means and end, is just as ridiculous as
to say, that a connection between antecedents and consequents stands in the way to hinder
a connection between antecedents and consequents.
Nor can any supposed connection of the succession or train of antecedents and consequents,
from the very beginning of all things, the connection being made already sure and necessary,
either by established laws of nature, or by these together with a decree of sovereign immediate
interpositions of Divine power, on such and such occasions, or any other way (if any other
there be); I say, no such necessary connection of a series of antecedents and consequents
can in the least tend to hinder, but that the means we use may belong to the series; and so
may be some of those antecedents which are connected with the consequents we aim at in
the established course of things. Endeavours which we use, are things that exist; and therefore
they belong to the general chain of events; all the parts of which chain are supposed to be
connected; and so endeavours are supposed to be connected with some effects, or some
consequent things or other. And certainly this does not hinder but that the events they are
connected with, may be those which we aim at, and which we choose, because we judge
them most likely to have a connection with those events from the established order and
course of things which we observe, or from something in Divine revelation.
Let us suppose a real and true connection between a man's having his eyes open in the clear
day-light, with good organs of sight, and seeing; so that seeing is connected with his opening
his eyes, and not seeing with his not opening his eyes; and also the like connection between
such a man's attempting to open his eyes, and his actually doing it: the supposed established
connection between these antecedents and consequents, let the connection be never so sure
and necessary, certainly does not prove that it is in vain for a man in such circumstances to
attempt to open his eyes, in order to seeing: his aiming at that event, and the use of the
means, being the effect of his will, does not break the connection, or hinder the success.
So that the objection we are upon does not lie against the doctrine of the necessity of events
by a certainty of connection and consequence; on the contrary, it is truly forcible against
the Arminian doctrine of contingence and self-determination; which is inconsistent with
such a connection. If there be no connection between those events wherein virtue and vice
consist, and any thing antecedent; then there is no connection between these events and
any means or endeavours used in order to them; and if so, then those means must be in
vain. The less there is of connection between foregoing things and following ones, so much
the less there is between means and end, endeavours and success; and in the same proportion
are means and endeavours ineffectual and in vain.
It will follow from Arminian principles that there is no degree of connection between virtue
or vice, and any foregoing event or thing; or, in other words, that the determination of the
existence of virtue or vice does not in the least depend on the influence of any thing that
comes to pass antecedently, from which the determination of its existence is, as its cause,
means, or ground; because so far as it is so, it is not from self-determination; and, therefore,
so far there is nothing of the nature of virtue or vice. And so it follows, that virtue and vice
are not at all, in any degree, dependent upon, or connected with, any foregoing event or
existence, as its cause, ground, or means. And if so, then all foregoing means must be totally
in vain.
Hence it follows, that there cannot, in any consistence with the Arminian scheme, be any
reasonable ground of so much as a conjecture concerning the consequence of any means
and endeavours, in order to escaping vice, or obtaining virtue, or any choice or preference
of means, as having a greater probability of success by some than others; either from any
natural connection or dependence of the end on the means, or through any divine constitution,
or revealed way of God's bestowing or bringing to pass these things, in consequence
of any means, endeavours, prayers, or deeds. Conjectures in this latter case, depend on a
supposition, that God himself is the giver, or determining cause, of the events sought; but
if they depend on self-determination, then God is not the determining or disposing author
of them; and if these things are not of his disposal, then no conjecture can be made, from
any revelation he has given, concerning any way or method of his disposal of them.
Yea, on these principles, it will not only follow, that men cannot have any reasonable ground
of judgment or conjecture that their means and endeavours to obtain virtue, or avoid vice,
will be successful, but they may be sure they will not; they may be certain that they will be
in vain; and that if ever the thing, which they seek, comes to pass, it will not be at all owing
to the means they use. For means and endeavours can have no effect at all, in order to obtain
the end, but in one of those two ways; either (1.) Through a natural tendency and influence
to prepare and dispose the mind more to virtuous acts, either by causing the disposition of
the heart to be more in favour of such acts, or by bringing the mind more into the view of
powerful motives and inducements; or, (2) By putting persons more in the way of God's
bestowment of the benefit. But neither of these can be the case. Not the latter; for, as has
been just observed, it does not consist with the Arminian notion of self-determination,
which they suppose essential to virtue, that God should be the bestower, or (which is the
same thing) the determining disposing author of virtue. Not the form; for natural influence
and tendency supposes causality and connection, and supposes necessity of event, which is
inconsistent with Arminian liberty. A tendency of means, by biasing the heart in favour of
virtue, or by bringing the will under the influence and power of motives in its determinations,
are both inconsistent with Arminian liberty of will, consisting in indifference, and sovereign
self-determination, as has been largely demonstrated.
But for the more full removal of this prejudice against the doctrine of necessity, which has
been maintained, as though it tended to encourage a total neglect of all endeavours as vain;
the following things may be considered: -
The question is not, Whether men may not thus improve this doctrine,- we know that
many true and wholesome doctrines are abused; but, whether the doctrine gives any just
occasion for such an improvement; or whether, on the supposition of the truth of the doctrine,
such a use of it would be unreasonable? If any shall affirm, that it would not, but that
the very nature of the doctrine is such as gives just occasion for it, it must be on this supposition;
namely, that such an invariable necessity of all things already settled, must render the
interposition of all means, endeavours, conclusions, or actions of ours, in order to the obtaining
any future end whatsoever, perfectly insignificant; because they cannot in the least
alter or vary the course and series of things, in any event or circumstance; all being already
fixed unutterably by necessity; and that therefore it is folly for men to use any means for
any end; but their wisdom to save themselves the trouble of endeavours, and take their ease.
No person can draw such an inference from this doctrine, and come to such a conclusion,
without contradicting himself, and going counter to the very principles he pretends to act
upon; for he comes to a conclusion and takes a course, in order to an end, even his case, or
the saving himself from trouble he seeks something future, and uses means in order to a
future thing, even in his drawing up that conclusion, that he will seek nothing, and use no
means in order to any thing in future; he seeks his future ease, and the benefit and comfort
of indolence. If prior necessity, that determines all things, makes vain all actions or conclusions
of ours, in order to any thing future; then it makes vain all conclusions and conduct
of ours, in order to our future ease. The measure of our ease, with the time, manner, and
every circumstance of it, is already fixed, by all-determining necessity, as much as any thing
else. If he says within himself, "What future happiness or misery I shall have, is already, in
effect, determined by the necessary course and connection of things; therefore, I will save
myself the trouble of labor and diligence which cannot add to my determined degree of
happiness, or diminish my misery; but will take my ease, and will enjoy the comfort of sloth
and negligence," - such a man contradicts himself; he says, the measure of his future happiness
and misery is already fixed, and he will not try to diminish the one, nor add to the
other; but yet, in his very conclusion, he contradicts this; for, he takes up this conclusion,
to add to his future happiness, by the ease and comfort of his negligence, and to diminish
his future trouble and misery by saving himself the trouble of using means and taking pains.
Therefore, persons cannot reasonably make this improvement of the doctrine of necessity,
that they will go into a voluntary negligence of means for their own happiness. For the
principles they must go upon, in order to this, are inconsistent with their making any improvement
at all of the doctrine; for to make some improvement of it, is to be influenced
by it, to come to some voluntary conclusion, in regard to their own conduct, with some
view or aim; but this, as has been shown, is inconsistent with the principles they pretend to
act upon. In short, the principles are such as cannot be acted upon at all, or, in any respect,
consistently. And therefore, in every pretense of acting upon them, or making any improvement
at all of them, there is a self-contradiction.
As to that objection against the doctrine, which I have endeavoured to prove, that it makes
men no more than mere machines; I would say, that notwithstanding this doctrine, man is
entirely, perfectly, and unspeakably different from a mere machine, in that he has reason
and understanding, and has a faculty of will, and is so capable of volition and choice; and
in that his will is guided by the dictates or views of his understanding; and in that his external
actions and behavior, and in many respects also his thoughts, and the exercises of his mind,
are subject to his will; so that he has liberty to act according to his choice, and do what he
pleases; and, by means of these things, is capable of moral habits and moral acts, such inclinations
and actions, as, according to the common sense of mankind, are worthy of praise,
esteem, love, and reward; or, on the contrary, of disesteem, detestation, indignation, and
punishment.
In these things is all the difference from mere machines, as to liberty and agency, that would
be any perfection, dignity, or privilege, in any respect; all the difference that can be desired,
and all that can be conceived of; and indeed all that the pretensions of the Arminians
themselves come to, as they are forced often to explain themselves. (Though their explications
overthrow and abolish the things asserted, and pretended to be explained,) For they are
forced to explain a self-determining power of will, by a power in the soul to determine as it
chooses or wills; which comes to no more than this, that a man has a power of choosing,
and in many instances, can do as he chooses,- which is quite a different thing from that
contradiction, his having power of choosing his first act of choice in the case.
Or, if their scheme makes any other difference than this between men and machines, it is
for the worse; it is so far from supposing men to have a dignity and privilege above machines,
that it makes the manner of their being determined still more unhappy. Whereas machines
are guided by an understanding cause, by the skillful hand of the workman or owner; the
will of man is left to the guidance of nothing but absolute blind contingence.
Section VI.
Concerning That Objection Against The Doctrine Which Has Been Maintained, That
It Agrees With The Stoical Doctrine Of Faith, And The Opinions of Mr. Hobbes.
WHEN Calvinists oppose the Arminian notion of the freedom of will, and contingence of
volition, and insist that there are no acts of the will, nor any other event whatsoever, but
what are attended with some kind of necessity; their opposers cry out against them, as
agreeing with the ancient Stoics in their doctrine of fate, and with Mr. Hobbes in his opinion
of necessity.
It would not be worth while to take notice of so impertinent an objection, had it not been
urged by some of the chief Arminian writers. There were many important truths maintained
by the ancient Greek and Roman philosophers, and especially the Stoics, that are never the
worse for being held by them. The Stoic philosophers, by the general agreement of Christian
divines, and even Arminian divines, were the greatest, wisest, and most virtuous of all the
heathen philosophers; and in their doctrine and practice came the nearest to Christianity
of any of their sects. How frequently are the sayings of these philosophers, in many of the
writings and sermons, even of Arminian divines, produced, not as arguments of the falseness
of the doctrines which they delivered, but as a confirmation of some of the greatest truths
of the Christian religion, relating to the unity and perfections of the Godhead, a future state,
the duty and happiness of mankind, &c., as observing how the light of nature, and reason,
in the wisest and best of the heathen, harmonized with and confirms the gospel of Jesus
Christ.
And it is very remarkable, concerning Dr Whitby, that although he alleges the agreement
of the Stoics with us, wherein he supposes they maintained the like doctrine with us, as an
argument against the truth of our doctrine; yet this very Dr Whitby alleges the agreement
of the Stoics with the Arminians, wherein he supposes they taught the same doctrine with
them, as an argument for the truth of their doctrine. So that, when the Stoics agree with
them, this (it seems) is a confirmation of their doctrine, and a confutation of ours, as
showing that our opinions are contrary to the natural sense and common reason of mankind: nevertheless, when the Stoics agree with us, it argues no such thing in our favour; but, on
the contrary, is a great argument against, us, and shows our doctrine to be heathenish.
It is observed by some Calvinistic writers, that the Arminians symbolize with the Stoics in
some of those doctrines wherein they are opposed by the Calvinists; particularly in their
denying an original, innate, total corruption and depravity of heart; and in what they held
of man's ability to make himself truly virtuous and conformed to God; and in some other
doctrines.
It may be further observed, it is certainly no better objection against our doctrine, that it
agrees, in some respects, with the doctrine of the ancient Stoic philosophers, than it is against
theirs, wherein they differ from us, that it agrees, in some respects, with the opinion of the
very worst of the heathen philosophers, the followers of Epicurus, that father of atheism
and licentiousness, and with the doctrine of the Sadducees and Jesuits.
I am not much concerned to know precisely what the ancient Stoic philosophers held concerning
fate, in order to determine what is truth; as though it were a sure way to be in the
right, to take good heed to differ from them. It seems that they differed among themselves;
and probably the doctrine of fate, as maintained by most of them, was, in some respects,
erroneous. But whatever their doctrine was, if any of them held such a fate as is repugnant
to any liberty, consisting in our doing as we please I utterly deny such a fate. If they held
any such fate as is not consistent with the common and universal notions that mankind
have of liberty, activity, moral agency, virtue and vice; I disclaim any such thing, and think
I have demonstrated that the scheme I maintain is no such scheme. If the Stoics, by fate,
meant any thing of such a nature as can be supposed to stand in the way of the advantage
and benefit of the use of means and endeavours, or make it less worth the while for men to
desire and seek after any thing wherein their virtue and happiness consists; I hold no doctrine
that is clogged with any such inconvenience, any more than any other scheme whatsoever;
and by no means so much as the Arminian scheme of contingence; as has been shown. If
they held any such doctrine of universal fatality as is inconsistent with any kind of liberty,
that is or can be any perfection, dignity, privilege or benefit, or any thing desirable, in any
respect, for any intelligent creature, or indeed with any liberty that is possible or conceivable;
I embrace no such doctrine. If they held any such doctrine of fate as is inconsistent with the
world's being in all things subject to the disposal of an intelligent wise Agent, that presides,
not as the soul of the world, but as the sovereign Lord of the universe, governing all things
by proper will, choice, and design, in the exercise of the most perfect liberty conceivable,
without subjection to any constraint, or being properly under the power or influence of any
thing before, above, or without himself; I wholly renounce any such doctrine.
As to Mr. Hobbes's maintaining the same doctrine concerning necessity; I confess it happens
I never read Mr. Hobbes. Let his opinion be what it will, we need not reject all truth which
is demonstrated by clear evidence, merely because it was once held by some bad man. This
great truth, that Jesus is the Son of God, was not spoiled because it was once and again
proclaimed with a loud voice by the devil. If truth is so defiled, because it is spoken by the
mouth, or written by the pen, of some ill-minded mischievous man, that it must never be
received, we shall never know when we hold any of the most precious and evident truths
by a sure tenure. And if Mr. Hobbes has made a bad use of this truth, that is to be lamented;
but the truth is not to be thought worthy of rejection on that account. It is common for the
corruptions of the hearts of evil men to abuse the best things to vile purposes. I might also
take notice of its having been observed, that the Arminians agree with Mr. Hobbes in many
more things than the Calvinists; - as, in what he is said to hold concerning original sin, in
denying the necessity of supernatural illumination, in denying infused grace, in denying
the doctrine of justification by faith alone; and other things.
Section VII.
Concerning The Necessity Of The Divine Will
Some may possibly object against what has been supposed of the absurdity and inconsistence
of a self-determining power in the will, and the impossibility of its being otherwise than
that the will should be determined in every case by some motive, and by a motive which (as
it stands in the view of the understanding) is of superior strength to any appearing on the
other side; that if these things are true, it will follow, that not only the will of created minds,
but the will of God himself, is necessary in all its determinations. Concerning which, says
the author of the Essay on the Freedom of Will in God and in the Creature, (pp. 85, 86)
"What strange doctrine is this, contrary to all our ideas of the dominion of God? does it not
destroy the glory of his liberty of choice, and take away from the Creator and Governor and
Benefactor of the world, that most free and sovereign agent, all the glory of this sort of
freedom? does it not seem to make him a kind of mechanical medium of fate, and introduce
Mr. Hobbe's doctrine of fatality and necessity into all things that God hath to do with? Does
it not seem to represent the blessed God as a being of vast understanding, as well as power
and efficiency, but still to leave him without a will to choose among all the objects within
his view? In short, it seems to make the blessed God a sort of almighty minister of fate, under
its universal and supreme influence; as it was the professed sentiment of some of the ancients,
that fate was above the gods."
This is declaiming, rather than arguing; and an application to men's imaginations and prejudices,
rather than to mere reason. But I would calmly endeavour to consider, whether
there be any reason in this frightful representation.- But before I enter upon a particular
consideration of the matter, I should observe this: that it is reasonable to suppose, it should
be much more difficult to express or conceive things according to exact metaphysical truth,
relating to the nature and manner of the existence of things in the Divine understanding
and will, and the operation of these faculties (if I may so call them) of the Divine mind, than
in the human mind; which is infinitely more within our view, and nearer to a proportion
to the measure of our comprehension, and more commensurate to the use and import of
human speech. Language is indeed very deficient in regard of terms to express precise truth
concerning our own minds, and their faculties and operations. Words were first formed to
express external things; and those that are applied to express things internal and spiritual,
are almost all borrowed, and used in a sort of figurative sense. Whence they are, most of
them, attended with a great deal of ambiguity and unfixedness in their signification, occasioning
innumerable doubts, difficulties, and confusions, in inquiries and controversies
about things of this nature. But language is much less adapted to express things in the mind
of the incomprehensible Deity precisely as they are.
We find a great deal of difficulty in conceiving exactly of the nature of our own souls. And
notwithstanding all the progress which has been made, in past and present ages, in this kind
of knowledge, whereby our metaphysics, as it relates to these things, is brought to greater
perfection than once it was; yet, here is still work enough left for future inquiries and researches,
and room for progress still to be made, for many ages and generations. But we had
need to be infinitely able metaphysicians, to conceive with clearness, according to strict,
proper, and perfect truth, concerning the nature of the Divine Essence, and the modes of
the action and operation of the powers of the Divine Mind.
And it may be noted particularly, that though we are obliged to conceive of some things in
God as consequent and dependent on others, and of some things pertaining to the Divine
nature and will as the foundation of others, and so before others in the order of nature; as,
we must conceive of the knowledge and holiness of God as prior, in the order of nature, to
his happiness; the perfection of his understanding, as the foundation of his wise purposes
and decrees; the holiness of his nature, as the cause and reason of his holy determinations.
And yet, when we speak of cause and effect, antecedent and consequent, fundamental and
dependent, determining and determined, in the first Being, who is self-existent, independent,
of perfect and absolute simplicity and immutability, and the first cause of all things; doubtless
there must be less propriety in such representations, than when we speak of derived dependent
beings, who are compounded, and liable to perpetual mutation and succession.
Having premised this, I proceed to observe concerning the fore-mentioned author's exclamation
about the necessary determination of God's will, in all things, by what he sees to be
fittest and best.
That all the seeming force of such objections and exclamations must arise from an imagination
that there is some sort of privilege or dignity in being without such a moral necessity
as will make it impossible to do any other than always choose what is wisest and best; as
though there were some disadvantage, meanness, and subjection, in such a necessity; a thing
by which the will was confined, kept under, and held in servitude by something, which, as
it were, maintained a strong and invincible power and dominion over it, by bonds that held
him fast, and that he could, by no means, deliver himself from. Whereas, this must be all
mere imagination and delusion. It is no disadvantage or dishonour to a being, necessarily
to act in the most excellent and happy manner, from the necessary perfection of his own
nature. This argues no imperfection, inferiority, or dependence, nor any want of dignity,
privilege, or ascendancy. It is not inconsistent with the absolute and most perfect sovereignty
of God. The sovereignty of God is his ability and authority to do whatever pleases him;
whereby "he doth according to his will in the armies of heaven, and amongst the inhabitants
of the earth; and none can stay his hand, or say unto him, What dost thou?" - The following
things belong to the sovereignty of God: viz. (1.) Supreme, universal, and infinite power:
whereby he is able to do what he pleases, without control, without any confinement of that
power, without any subjection, in the least measure, to any other power; and so without any
hindrance or restraint, that it should be either impossible, or at all difficult, for him to accomplish
his will; and without any dependance of his power on any other power, from
whence it should be derived, or which it should stand in any need of; so far from this, that
all other power is derived from him, and is absolutely dependent on him.
(2.) That he has supreme authority; absolute and most perfect right to do what he wills,
without subjection to any superior authority, or any derivation of authority from any other,
or limitation by any distinct independent authority, either superior, equal, or inferior; he
being the head of all dominion, and fountain of all authority; and also without restraint by
any obligation, implying either subjection, derivation, or dependence, or proper limitation.
(3.) That his will is supreme, underived, and independent on any thing without himself;
being in every thing determined by his own counsel, having no other rule but his own wisdom;
his will not being subject to, or restrained by, the will of any other, and other wills
being perfectly subject to his.
(4.) That his wisdom, which determines his will, is supreme, perfect, underived, self-sufficient,
and independent; so that it may be said, as in Isaiah 40:14, ' With whom took he counsel,
and who instructed him, and taught him in the path of judgment, and taught him knowledge,
and showed to him the way of understanding? - There is no other Divine sovereignty but
this; and this is properly absolute sovereignty: no other is desirable; nor would any other be
honourable or happy and, indeed, there is no other conceivable or possible: It is the glory
and greatness of the Divine Sovereign, that God's will is determined by his own infinite, allsufficient
wisdom in every thing; and in nothing at all is either directed by any inferior
wisdom, or by no wisdom; whereby it would become senseless arbitrariness, determining
and acting without reason, design, or end.
If God's will is steadily and surely determined in every thing by supreme wisdom, then it is
in every thing necessarily determined to that which is most wise. And, certainly, it would
he a disadvantage and indignity to be otherwise. For if the Divine will was not necessarily
determined to that which, in every case, is wisest and best, it must be subject, to some degree
of undesigning contingence; and so in the same degree liable to evil. To suppose the Divine
will liable to be carried hither and thither at random, by the uncertain wind of blind contingence,
which is guided by no wisdom, no motive, no intelligent dictate whatsoever, (if any
such thing were possible,) would certainly argue a great degree of imperfection and meanness,
infinitely unworthy of the Deity. If it be a disadvantage for the Divine will to be attended
with this moral necessity, then the more free from it, and the more left at random, the
greater dignity and advantage. And, consequently, to be perfectly free from the direction of
understanding, and universally and entirely left to senseless, unmeaning contingence, to
act absolutely at random, would be the supreme glory.
It no more argues any dependence of God's will, that his supremely wise volition is necessary,
than it argues a dependence of his being, that his existence is necessary. If it be something
too low for the Supreme Being to have his will determined by moral necessity, so as necessarily,
in every case, to will in the highest degree holy and happily; then why is it not also
something too low for him to have his existence, and the infinite perfection of his nature,
and his infinite happiness, determined by necessity? It is no more to God's dishonour to be
necessarily wise, than to be necessarily holy. And if neither of them be to his dishonour,
then it is not to his dishonour necessarily to act holily and wisely. And if it be not dishonorable
to be necessarily holy and wise, in the highest possible degree, no more is it mean and
dishonorable, necessarily to act holily and wisely in the highest possible degree; or, which
is the same thing, to do that, in every case, which, above all other things, is wisest and best.
The reason why it is not dishonorable to be necessarily most holy, is, because holiness in
itself is an excellent and honourable thing. For the same reason, it is no dishonour to be
necessarily most wise, and, in every case, to act most wisely, or do the thing which is the
wisest of all; for wisdom is also in itself excellent and honourable.
The fore-mentioned author of the "Essay on the Freedom of Will," &c. as has been observed,
represents that doctrine of the Divine Will's being in every thing necessarily determined by
a superior fitness, as making the blessed God a kind of almighty minister and mechanical
medium of fate; and he insists, (pp. 93, 94,) that this moral necessity and impossibility is,
in effect, the same thing with physical and natural necessity and impossibility; and in pp.54, 55, he says, "The scheme which determines the will always and certainly by the understanding,
and understanding by the appearance of things, seems to take away the true nature
of vice and virtue. For the sublimest of virtues, and the vilest of vices, seem rather to be
matters of fate and necessity, flowing naturally and necessarily from the existence, the circumstances,
and present situation of persons and things; for this existence and situation
necessarily makes such an appearance to the mind; from this appearance flows a necessary
perception and judgment concerning these things: this judgment necessarily determines
the will; and thus, by this chain of necessary causes, virtue and vice would lose their nature,
and become natural ideas, and necessary things, instead of moral and free actions."
And yet this same author allows, (pp. 30, 31,) that a perfectly wise being will constantly and
certainly choose what is most fit; and says, pp. 102, 103, "I grant, and always have granted,
that wheresoever there is such antecedent superior fitness of things, God acts according to
it, so as never to contradict it; and, particularly, in all his judicial proceedings as a governor,
and distributor of rewards and punishments." Yea, he says expressly, (p. 42,) "That it is not
possible for God to act otherwise than according to this fitness and goodness in things."
So that, according to this author, putting these several passages of this essay together, there
is no virtue, nor any thing of a moral nature, in the most sublime and glorious acts and exercises
of God's holiness, justice, and faithfulness; and he never does any thing which is in
itself supremely worthy, and, above all other things, fit and excellent, but only as a kind of
mechanical medium of fate; and in what he does as the judge and moral governor of the
world, he exercises no moral excellency, exercising no freedom in these things, because he
acts by moral necessity, which is, in effect, the same with physical or natural necessity; and
therefore he only acts by an Hobbistical fatality; "as a being indeed of vast understanding,
as well as power and efficiency, (as he said before,) but without a will to choose, being a kind
of almighty administer of fate, acting under its supreme influence." For he allows, that in
all these things, God's will is determined constantly and certainly by a superior fitness, and
that it is not possible for him to act otherwise. And if these things are so, what glory or praise
belongs to God for doing holily and justly; or taking the most fit, holy, wise, and excellent
course, in any one instance? Whereas, according to the Scriptures, and also the common
sense of mankind, it does not, in the least, derogate from the honour of any being, that
through the moral perfection of his nature he necessarily acts with supreme wisdom and
holiness; but on the contrary, his praise is the greater; herein consists the height of his glory.
The same author (p. 56) supposes that herein appears the excellent "character of a wise and
good man, that though he can choose contrary to the fitness of things, yet he does not; but
suffers himself to be directed by fitness;" and that, in this conduct, "he imitates the blessed
God." And yet he supposes it is contrariwise with the blessed God; not that he suffers himself
to be directed by fitness, when he can choose, contrary to the fitness of things, but that he
cannot choose contrary to the fitness of things; as he says, (p. 42,) "that it is not possible for
God to act otherwise than according to this fitness, where there is any fitness or goodness
in things." Yea, he supposes, (p. 31,) that if a man "were perfectly wise and good, he could
not do otherwise than be constantly and certainly determined by the fitness of things."
One thing more I would observe, before I conclude this section; and that is, that if it
derogates nothing from the glory of God to be necessarily determined by superior fitness
in some things, then neither does it to be thus determined in all things; from any thing in
the nature of such necessity, as at all detracting from God's freedom, independence, absolute
supremacy, or any dignity or glory of his nature, state, or manner of acting; or as implying
any infirmity, restraint, or subjection. And if the thing be such as well consists with God's
glory, and has nothing tending at all to detract from it; then we need not be afraid of
ascribing it to God in too many things, lest thereby we should detract from God's glory too
much.
Indexes
Index of Scripture References
Genesis
1:26-27 3:15 6:6 7:4 9:6 9:30 11:9 15 15:13-14 15:16 22:16-17
Exodus
3:14 3:19 21
Numbers
23:19
Deuteronomy
32:21
Judges
9:15-20
1 Samuel
2 2 15:11 15:29 22
2 Samuel
12:11-12 23:5 23:5
1 Kings
11:11-13 13:1-6 13:32 14 16 16:9-13 16:20 21:20-22
2 Kings
8:12 15:27 20:17-19 22 22:15-20
2 Chronicles
13:5-6 13:18 36:21 36:22-23
Ezra
1:1-4
Job
23:13-14 42:2
Psalms
2 2:1-2 2:6-7 22 22:6-7 33:10-11 40:6-7 40:6-8 45:3-4 45:7 69 69:4 69:8 69:19
69:20 72:11 72:17 81:12 89:3-4 89:34-36 110 110:4 118:22
Proverbs
19:21
Ecclesiastes
3:14
Isaiah
1 3:13-15 6:9-11 8:14-16 11:1 11:6-7 13 14 14:27 15 28:16 40:8 40:14 41:22-26
42:21 43:1-4 43:9-10 44:8 44:28 45:21 45:22-25 46:10 46:10 47 48:14 49 49:4-7
49:5-7 49:7-9 49:7-9 49:15 50:5-6 50:6 51:4-8 52:13 53 53:1-3 53:9 53:10-12
53:10-12 53:11-12 54:9 54:10 55:4 62:18 65:13
Jeremiah
1:18-19 4:1 5:1 7:1-7 7:27-29 11:1-6 17:24-27 23:5-6 25:1-7 25:11-12 25:14 26:1-8
26:13 29:10-11 29:12-14 31:8-9 31:18-31 31:35-40 32:6-15 32:41-44 33:8 33:15
33:15 33:20-21 33:24-26 33:25-26 38:17-18 44:26 44:26-27 50 50:4-5 51 51:39
51:57
Ezekiel
3:7 4:6 6:8-10 7:16 20:43-44 24:13-14 24:22-23
Daniel
8:9 8:14 8:23 9:2 11:32 11:32-34 11:35
Micah
5:1 7:19-20
Habakkuk
2:5-20
Malachi
3:6
Matthew
8:10-12 10:16-18 10:21 10:22 10:34-36 12:18 12:45 16:21 17:5 20:12-16 20:17-19
20:23 21:33-42 21:33-42 21:41-43 21:42 22:1-7 22:6 22:8-10 23:34-39 24:4-5 24:9
24:10 24:11 24:12 24:35 26:21-25 26:31 26:53-54 27:34 27:35 27:43 27:48
Mark
13:9 14:49 15:23
Luke
1:54-55 1:72 1:72-73 1:73 2:25 2:38 9:22 10:3 11:49-51 12:11 12:49-53 13:16
13:21 13:24 13:28 13:33-35 14:16-24 15:26-32 17:25 19:14 19:27 19:41 19:44
20:13-18 20:13-18 20:16 21:12 21:16 21:17 22:20 22:28 22:28 23:34 23:34-39
24:44
John
2:17 4:35-38 7:5 8:28 10:16 10:17-18 10:18 12:49-50 12:49-50 13:36 14 14:31
15:10 15:10 15:18-21 15:25 16:1-4 16:20-22 16:23 16:32 19:24 19:29 21:18-19
21:22
Acts
1:16-17 2:29-30 4:11 4:25-28 7:6-7 7:42 9:16 13:32-33 13:34 15:18 20:23 20:29-30
21:11 22:18
Romans
1:1-3 1:20 1:24 1:25 1:26 1:28 5:14 5:19 8:17 8:29 9:5 10:19 10:19 10:20-21
15:3 15:8
1 Corinthians
2:7 15:45
2 Corinthians
11:31
Galatians
3:8 3:15 3:16
Ephesians
1:4 1:4-5 3:9-11 3:11
Philippians
2:7-9 2:18
1 Timothy
6:15
2 Timothy
1:9 2:11-12
Titus
1:2 1:2
Hebrews
2:9-14 2:12 2:18 4:15 5:8 5:8-9 6:13 6:17-18 10:5-9 11:13 12:1-2 12:1-3
1 Peter
1:2 1:19-20 1:20 2:19-20 4:1-3
Revelation
3:21 5:8-12 21:6
Index of Latin Words and Phrases
a duo liberum est abstinere.:
ad ulrumque: 117
ad utrumlibet: 117
ad utrumque: 109 118
animalcula in semine masculo: 87
ova: 87
principia: 87
stamina vitae: 87
vitae interminabilis, tota, simul et perfecta possessio: 103