Before closing this part of the treatise in hand, I deem it expedient to lay down something like a scale of certainty. In doing this, I shall have to repeat some things. But it is by repet.i.tion, and by placing the same things in new positions, that we often best attain perspicuity, and succeed in rendering philosophical ideas familiar.
First: Let us consider minutely the distinction between certainty and necessity. Necessity relates to truths and events considered in themselves. Certainty relates to our apprehension or conviction of them.
Hence necessity is not certainty itself, but a ground of certainty.
_Absolute certainty_ relates only to truths or to being.
First or intuitive truths, and logical conclusions drawn from them, are necessary with an absolute necessity. They do not admit of negative suppositions, and are irrespective of will. The being of G.o.d, and time, and s.p.a.ce, are necessary with an absolute necessity.
_Relative necessity_ relates to logical conclusions and events or phenomena. Logical conclusions are always necessary relatively to the premises, but cannot be absolutely necessary unless the premises from which they are derived, are absolutely necessary.
All phenomena and events are necessary with only a relative necessity; for in depending upon causes, they all ultimately depend upon will.
Considered therefore in themselves, they are contingent; for the will which produced them, either immediately or by second or dependent causes, is not necessitated, but free and contingent--and therefore their non-existence is supposable. But they are necessary relatively to will. The divine will, which gave birth to creation, is infinite; when therefore the _nibus_ of this will was made, creation was the necessary result. The Deity is under no necessity of willing; but when he does will, the effect is said necessarily to follow--meaning by this, that the _nibus_ of the divine will is essential power, and that there is no other power that can prevent its taking effect.
Created will is under no necessity of willing; but when it does will or make its _nibus_, effects necessarily follow, according to the connexion established by the will of Deity, between the _nibus_ of created will and surrounding objects. Where a _nibus_ of created will is made, and effects do not follow, it arises from the necessarily greater force of a resisting power, established by Deity likewise; so that whatever follows the _nibus_ of created will, whether it be a phenomenon without, or the mere experience of a greater resisting force, it follows by a necessity relative to the divine will.
When we come to consider will in relation to its own volitions, we have no more necessity, either absolute er relative; we have contingency and absolute freedom.
Now certainty we have affirmed to relate to our knowledge or conviction of truths and events.
Necessity is one ground of certainty, both absolute and relative. We have a certain knowledge or conviction of that which we perceive to be necessary in its own nature, or of which a negative is not supposable; and this, as based upon an _absolute necessity_, may be called an absolute certainty.
The established connexion between causes and effects, is another ground of certainty. Causes are of two kinds; first causes, or causes _per se_, or contingent and free causes, or will; and second or physical causes, which are necessary with a relative necessity.
First causes are of two degrees, the infinite and the finite.
Now we are certain, that whatever G.o.d wills, will take place. This may likewise be called an absolute certainty, because the connexion between divine volitions and effects is absolutely necessary. It is not supposable that G.o.d should will in vain, for that would contradict his admitted infinity.
The connexion between the volitions of created will and effects, and the connexion between physical causes and effects, supposing each of course to be in its proper relations and circ.u.mstances, is a connexion of relative necessity; that is, relative to the divine will. Now the certainty of our knowledge or conviction that an event will take place, depending upon volition or upon a physical cause, is plainly different from the certain knowledge of a necessary truth, or the certain conviction that an event which infinite power wills, will take place.
The will which established the connexion, may at any moment suspend or change the connexion. I believe that when I will to move my hand over this paper, it will move, supposing of course the continued healthiness of the limb; but it is possible for G.o.d so to alter the const.i.tution of my being, that my will shall have no more connexion with my hands than it now has with the circulation of the blood. I believe also that if I throw this paper into the fire, it will burn; but it is possible for G.o.d so to alter the const.i.tution of this paper or of fire, that the paper will not burn; and yet I have a certain belief that my hand will continue to obey volition, and that paper will burn in the fire. This certainly is not an _absolute certainty_, but a _conditional_ certainty: events will thus continue to take place on condition the divine will does not change the condition of things. This conditional certainty is likewise called a _physical_ certainty, because the events contemplated include besides the phenomena of consciousness, which are not so commonly noticed, the events or phenomena of the physical world, or nature.
But we must next look at will itself in relation to its volitions: Here all is contingency and freedom,--here is no necessity. Is there any ground of certain knowledge respecting future volitions?
If will as a cause _per se_, were isolated and in no relation whatever, there could not be any ground of any knowledge whatever, respecting future volitions. But will is not thus isolated. On the contrary, it forms a unity with the sensitivity and the reason. Reason reveals _what ought to be done_, on the basis of necessary and unchangeable truth. The sensitivity reveals what is most desirable or pleasurable, on the ground of personal experience. Now although it is granted that will can act without deriving a reason or inducement of action from the reason and the sensitivity, still the instances in which it does so act, are so rare and trifling, that they may be thrown out of the account. We may therefore safely a.s.sume as a general law, that the will determines according to reasons and inducements drawn from the reason and the sensitivity. This law is not by its very definition, and by the very nature of the subject to which it relates, a necessary law--but a law revealed in our consciousness as one to which the will, in the exercise of its freedom, does submit itself. In the harmony and perfection of our being, the reason and the sensitivity perfectly accord. In obeying the one or the other, the will obeys both. With regard to perfect beings, therefore, we can calculate with certainty as to their volitions under any given circ.u.mstances. Whatever is commanded by reason, whatever appears attractive to the pure sensitivity, will be obeyed and followed.
But what kind of certainty is this? It is not absolute certainty, because it is supposable that the will which obeys may not obey, for it has power not to obey. Nor is it _physical_ certainty, for it does not relate to a physical cause, nor to the connexion between volition and its effects, but to the connexion between will and its volitions. Nor again can we, strictly speaking, call it a _conditional_ certainty; because the will, as a power _per se_, is under no conditions as to the production of its volitions. To say that the volitions will be in accordance with the reason and pure sensitivity, if the will continue to obey the reason and pure sensitivity, is merely saying that the volitions will be right if the willing power put forth right volitions.
What kind of certainty is it, then? I reply, it is a certainty altogether peculiar,--a certainty based upon the relative state of the reason and the sensitivity, and their unity with the will; and as the commands of reason in relation to conduct have received the name of _moral_[7] laws, simply because they have this relation,--and as the sensitivity, when harmonizing with the reason, is thence called morally pure, because attracting to the same conduct which the reason commands,--this certainty may fitly be called _moral certainty_. The name, however, does not mark _degree_. Does this certainty possess degrees? It does. With respect to the volitions of G.o.d, we have the highest degree of moral certainty,--an infinite moral certainty. He, indeed, in his infinite will, has the power of producing any volitions whatever; but from his infinite excellency, consisting in the harmony of infinite reason with the divine affections of infinite benevolence, truth, and justice, we are certain that his volitions will always be right, good, and wise. Besides, he has a.s.sured us of his fixed determination to maintain justice, truth, and love; and he has given us this a.s.surance as perfectly knowing himself in the whole eternity of his being. Let no one attempt to confound this perfect moral certainty with necessity, for the distinction is plain. If G.o.d"s will were affirmed to be necessarily determined in the direction of truth, righteousness, and love, it would be an affirmation respecting the manner of the determination of the divine will: viz.--that the divine determination takes place, not in contingency and freedom, not with the power of making an opposite determination, but in absolute necessity. But if it be affirmed that G.o.d"s will, will _certainly_ go in the direction of truth, righteousness, and love, the affirmation respects our _knowledge_ and _conviction_ of the character of the divine volitions in the whole eternity of his being. We may indeed proceed to inquire after the grounds of this knowledge and conviction; and if the necessity of the divine determinations be the ground of this knowledge and conviction, it must be allowed that it is a sufficient ground. But will any man a.s.sume that necessity is the _only_ ground of certain knowledge and conviction?
If necessity be universal, embracing all beings and events, then of course there is no place for this question, inasmuch as any other ground of knowledge than necessity is not supposable. But if, at least for the sake of the argument, it be granted that there may be other grounds of knowledge than necessity, then I would ask whether the infinite excellence of the divine reason and sensitivity, in their perfect harmony, does afford to us a ground for the most certain and satisfactory belief that the divine will will create and mould all being and order all events according to infinite wisdom and rect.i.tude. In order to have full confidence that G.o.d will forever do right, must we know that his will is absolutely necessitated by his reason and his affections? Can we not enjoy this confidence, while we allow him absolute freedom of choice? Can we not believe that the Judge of all the Earth will do right, although in his free and omnipotent will he have the power to do wrong? And especially may we not believe this, when, in his omniscience and his truth, he has declared that his purposes will forever be righteous, benevolent, and wise? Does not the glory and excellency of G.o.d appear in this,--that while he hath unlimited power, he employs that power by his free choice, only to dispense justice, mercy, and grace? And does not the excellency and meritoriousness of a creature"s faith appear in this,--that while G.o.d is known to be so mighty and so absolute, he is confided in as a being who will never violate any moral principle or affection? Suppose G.o.d"s will to be necessitated in its wise and good volitions,--the sun dispensing heat and light, and by their agency unfolding and revealing the beauty of creation, seems as truly excellent and worthy of grat.i.tude,--and the creature, exercising grat.i.tude towards G.o.d and confiding in him, holds no other relation to him than the sunflower to the sun--by a necessity of its nature, ever turning its face upwards to receive the influences which minister to its life and properties.
The moral certainty attending the volitions of created perfect beings is the same in kind with that attending the volitions of the Deity. It is a certainty based upon the relative state of the reason and the sensitivity, and their unity with the will. Wherever the reason and the sensitivity are in harmony, there is moral certainty. I mean by this, that in calculating the character of future volitions in this case, we have not to calculate the relative energy of opposing principles:--all which is now existent is, in the const.i.tuted unity of the soul, naturally connected only with good volitions. But the _degree_ of the moral certainty in created beings, when compared with that attending the volitions of Deity, is only in the proportion of the finite to the infinite. The confidence which we repose in the integrity of a good being, does not arise from the conviction that his volitions are necessitated, but from his known habit of obeying truth and justice; and our sense of his meritoriousness does not arise from the impossibility of his doing wrong, but from his known determination and habit of doing right while having the power of doing wrong, and while even under temptations of doing wrong.
A certainty respecting volitions, if based upon the necessity of the volitions, would not differ from a physical certainty. But a moral certainty has this plain distinction,--that it is based upon the evidently pure dispositions and habits of the individual, without implying, however, any necessity of volitions.
Moral certainty, then, is predicable only of moral perfection, and predicable in degrees according to the dignity and excellency of the being.
But now let us suppose any disorder to take place in the sensitivity; that is, let us suppose the sensitivity, to any degree, to grow into opposition to the reason, so that while the reason commands in one direction, the sensitivity gives the sense of the most agreeable in the opposite direction,--and then our calculations respecting future volitions must vary accordingly. Here moral certainty exists no longer, because volitions are now to be calculated in connexion with opposing principles: calculations now attain only to the probable, and in different degrees.
By _the probable_, we mean that which has not attained to certainty, but which nevertheless has grounds on which it claims to be believed. We call it _probable_ or _proveable_, because it both has proof and is still under conditions of proof, that is, admits of still farther proof.
That which is certain, has all the proof of which the case admits. A mathematical proposition is certain on the ground of necessity, and admits of no higher proof than that which really demonstrates its truth.
The divine volitions are certain on the ground of the divine perfections, and admit of no higher proof than what is found in the divine perfections.
The volitions of a good created being are certain on the ground of the purity of such a being, and admit of no higher proof than what is found in this purity.
But when we come to a mixed being, that is, a being of reason, and of a sensitivity corrupted totally or in different degrees, then we have place not for certainty, but for probability. As our knowledge of the future volitions of such a being can only be gathered from something now existent, this knowledge will depend upon our knowledge of the present relative state of his reason and sensitivity; but a perfect knowledge of this is in no case supposable,--so that, although our actual knowledge of this being may be such as to afford us proof of what his volitions may be, yet, inasmuch as our knowledge of him may be increased indefinitely by close observation and study, so likewise will the proof be increased. According to the definition of probability above given, therefore, our knowledge of the future volitions of an imperfect being can only amount to probable knowledge.
The direction of the probabilities will be determined by the preponderance of the good or the bad in the mixed being supposed. If the sensitivity be totally corrupted, the probabilities will generally go in the direction of the corrupted sensitivity, because it is one observed general fact in relation to a state of corruption, that the enjoyments of pa.s.sion are preferred to the duties enjoined by the conscience. But the state of the reason itself must be considered. If the reason be in a highly developed state, and the convictions of the right consequently clear and strong, there may be probabilities of volitions in opposition to pa.s.sion which cannot exist where the reason is undeveloped and subject to the errors and prejudices of custom and superst.i.tion. The difference is that which is commonly known under the terms "enlightened and unenlightened conscience."
Where the sensitivity is not totally corrupted, the direction of the probabilities must depend upon the degree of corruption and the degree to which the reason is developed or undeveloped.
With a given state of the sensitivity and the reason, the direction of the probabilities will depend also very much upon the correlated, or upon the opposing objects and circ.u.mstances:--where the objects and circ.u.mstances agree with the state of the sensitivity and the reason, or to speak generally and collectively, with "the state of the mind," the probabilities will clearly be more easily determined than where they are opposed to "the state of the mind."
The law which Edwards lays down as the law of volition universally, viz: that "the volition is as the greatest apparent good:" understanding by the term "good," as he does, simply, that which strikes us "agreeably,"
is indeed a general rule, according to which the volitions of characters deeply depraved may be calculated. This law represents the individual as governed wholly by his pa.s.sions, and this marks the worst form of character. It is a law which cannot extend to him who is struggling under the light of his reason against pa.s.sion, and consequently the probabilities in this last case must be calculated in a different way.
But in relation to the former it is a sufficient rule.
Probability, as well as certainty, respects only the kind and degree of our knowledge of any events, and not the causes by which those events are produced: whether these causes be necessary or contingent is another question.
One great error in reasoning respecting the character of causes, in connexion with the calculation of probabilities, is the a.s.sumption that uniformity is the characteristic of necessary causes only. The reasoning may be stated in the following syllogism:
In order to calculate either with certainty or probability any events we must suppose a uniform law of causation; but uniformity can exist only where there is a necessity of causation; hence, our calculations suppose a necessity of causation.
This is another instance of applying to the will principles which were first obtained from the observation of physical causes, and which really belong to physical causes only. With respect to physical causes, _it is true_ that uniformity appears to be a characteristic of necessary causes, simply because physical causes are relatively necessary causes:--but with respect to the will, _it is not true_ that uniformity appears to be a characteristic of necessary cause, because the will is not a necessary cause. That uniformity therefore, as in the case of physical causes, seems to become a characteristic of necessary cause, does not arise from the nature of the idea of cause, but from the nature of the particular subject, viz., _physical_ cause. Uniformity in logical strictness, does not belong to cause at all, but to law or rule. Cause is simply efficiency or power: law or rule defines the direction, aims, and modes of power: cause explains the mere existence of phenomena: law explains their relations and characteristics: law is the thought and design of the reason. Now a cause may be so conditioned as to be incapable of acting except in obedience to law, and this is the case of all physical causes which act according to the law or design of infinite wisdom, and thus the uniformity which we are accustomed to attribute to these causes is not their own, but belongs to the law under which they necessarily act. But will is a cause which is not so conditioned as to be incapable of acting except in obedience to law; it can oppose itself to, and violate law, but still it is a cause in connexion with law, the law found in the reason and sensitivity, which law of course has the characteristic of uniformity. The law of the reason and pure sensitivity is uniform--it is the law of right. The law of a totally corrupted sensitivity is likewise a uniform law; it is the law of pa.s.sion; a law to do whatever is most pleasing to the sensitivity; and every individual, whatever may be the degree of his corruption, forms for himself certain rules of conduct, and as the very idea of rule embraces uniformity, we expect in every individual more or less uniformity of conduct. Uniformity of physical causation, is nothing but the design of the supreme reason developed in phenomena of nature. Uniformity of volitions is nothing but the design of reason and pure sensitivity, or of corrupted pa.s.sion developed in human conduct. The uniformity thus not being the characteristic of cause as such, cannot be the characteristic of necessary cause. The uniformity of causation, therefore, argues nothing respecting the nature of the cause; it may be a necessary cause or it may not. There is no difficulty at all in conceiving of uniformity in a free contingent will, because this will is related to uniform rules, which in the unity of the being we expect to be obeyed but which we also know do not necessitate obedience. In physical causes we have the uniformity of necessitated causes. In will we have the uniformity of a free intelligent cause. We can conceive of perfect freedom and yet of perfect order, because the free will can submit itself to the light of the reason. Indeed, all the order and harmony of creation, although springing from the _idea_ of the reason, has been const.i.tuted by the power of the infinite free will. It is an order and harmony not necessitated but chosen by a power determining itself. It is altogether an a.s.sumption incapable of being supported that freedom is identified with disorder.
_Of the words, Foreknowledge and Prescience._
These words are metaphorical: _fore_ and _pre_ do not qualify _knowledge_ and _science_ in relation to the mind which has the knowledge or science; but the time in which the knowledge takes place in relation to the time in which the object of knowledge is found. The metaphor consists in giving the attribute of the time of knowledge, considered relatively to the time of the object of knowledge, to the act of knowledge itself. Banishing metaphor for the sake of attaining greater perspicuity, let us say,
First: All acts of knowing are present acts of knowing,--there is no _fore_ knowledge and no _after_ knowledge.
Secondly: The objects of knowledge may be in no relation to time and s.p.a.ce whatever, e. g. pure abstract and necessary truth, as 2 x 2 = 4; and the being of G.o.d. Or the objects of knowledge may be in relations of time and s.p.a.ce, e. g. all physical phenomena.
Now these relations of time and s.p.a.ce are various;--the object of knowledge may be in time past, or time present, or time future; and it may be in a place near, or in a place distant. And the faculty of knowledge may be of a capacity to know the object in all these relations under certain limitations, or under no limitations. The faculty of knowledge as knowing objects in all relations of time and s.p.a.ce, under certain limitations, is the faculty as given in man. We know objects in time present, and past, and future; and we know objects both near and distant; but then our knowledge does not extend to all events in any of these relations, or in any of these relations to their utmost limit.
The faculty of knowledge as knowing objects in all relations of time and s.p.a.ce, under no limitations, is the faculty under its divine and infinite form. Under this form it comprehends the present perfectly, and the past and the future no less than the present--and it reaches through all s.p.a.ce. G.o.d"s knowledge is an eternal now--an omnipresent here; that is, all that is possible and actual in eternity and s.p.a.ce, is now perfectly known to him. Indeed G.o.d"s knowledge ought not to be spoken of in relation to time and s.p.a.ce; it is infinite and absolute knowledge, from eternity to eternity the same; it is unchangeable, because it is perfect; it can neither be increased nor diminished.
We have shown before that the perfection of the knowledge does not settle the mode of causation; that which comes to pa.s.s by necessity, and that which comes to pa.s.s contingently, are alike known to G.o.d.
CONCLUSION.
I here finish my review of Edwards"s System, and his arguments against the opposite system. I hope I have not thought or written in vain. The review I have aimed to conduct fairly and honourably, and in supreme reverence of truth. As to style, I have laboured only for perspicuity, and where a homely expression has best answered this end, I have not hesitated to adopt it. The nice graces of rhetoric, as popularly understood, cannot be attended to in severe reasoning. To amble on a flowery surface with fancy, when we are mining in the depths of reason, is manifestly impossible.
The great man with whose work I have been engaged, I honour and admire for his intellectual might, and love and venerate for a purity and elevation of spirit, which places him among the most sainted names of the Christian church. But have I done wrong not to be seduced by his genius, nor won and commanded by his piety to the belief of his philosophy? I have not done wrong if that be a false philosophy. When he leads me to the cross, and speaks to me of salvation, I hear in mute attention--and one of the old preachers of the martyr age seems to have re-appeared. But when we take a walk in the academian grove, I view him in a different character, and here his voice does not sound to me so sweet as Plato"s.
The first part of my undertaking is accomplished. When I again trouble the public with my lucubrations, I shall appear not as a reviewer, but in an original work, which in its turn must become the subject of philosophical criticism.
THE END.