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has already been said will enable us to dis- | the various phrases and terms connected tocriminate them with sufficient accuracy. gether by correlation and affinity, that it is The philosophical mode appeals chiefly to hard to speak in the way of description or facts of observation, and admits only that illustration, without seeming to be begging part of theology which is comprised in what the question by the mere use of the necessary is styled Natural Religion; the theological terms. But there is here no begging of the mode, without omitting to notice the argu- question; and nothing is sought to be insiments of the philosopher, admits and gives nuated. A feeling would be in vain defined the chief weight to dogmas of Revelation. to him who has not felt it; and it is lawful It follows, of course, that the theological to use any terms which are fitted to remind treatment of the question is directly interest- men of what they have felt. But perhaps it ing only to persons who believe the dogmas will be best, in order to elicit the idea, to to be true; though it can hardly fail to have allege an example. Take, therefore, the folsome indirect interest for many who disbe- lowing account of a crime which might move lieve them, since it treats of ideas and be- a man to thank God that Tophet is ordained liefs which have swayed, and still sway, the of old. "Kirke was also," says Lord Macauthoughts and deeds of a great part of civi- lay, " in his own coarse and ferocious way, lized mankind. a man of pleasure; and nothing is more probable than that he employed his power for the purpose of gratifying his licentious appetites. It was reported that he conquered the virtue of a beautiful woman by promising to spare the life of one to whom she was strongly attached, and that, after she had yielded, he showed her, suspended on the gallows, the lifeless remains of him for whose sake she had sacrificed her honour." Kirke is acquitted by the historian, for lack of sufficient evidence; but the truth of the story is nothing to the point-it is enough if it be possible. And there is no doubt that the thing has happened before now: others besides Kirke have been accused of the crime, and it has been brought home to some of them. Now the desire which most persons feel, that a crime of such treachery and barbarity should meet with condign punishment, is a feeling which cannot, to their satisfaction, be resolved into any elements. They do not think, for example, that it is accounted for by reflecting that punishment is desirable in order that criminals may be induced to reform themselves, or in order that they may be induced not to injure the innocent. What is the origin of the feeling, and whether it is natural or acquired, is nothing to the point; nor are we concerned to determine whether people are right or wrong in thinking as they do think. It is enough that most men have felt something leading them to speak as though there were, in their judgment, some kind of natural relation between vice and punishment, virtue and reward, so that, as they would express it, the one ought to follow the other.

Since the vulgar notion of moral desert will occupy a very prominent place in our discussion, it is necessary to explain with perfect accuracy what is meant by the term; and here it is to be observed that I am only explaining, not attempting to prove. It is a matter of notoriety that, from the most ancient times of which we have any record down to the present day, men in general have been accustomed to use certain phrases which betoken some feeling of indignation against vice, and approbation of virtue, saying that bad deeds deserved punishment or justly brought punishment on the doer, and that good deeds deserved a reward, and so forth. Numerous passages from all sorts of authors, prophets and poets, historians and philosophers, witnessing to this feeling, will readily occur to the memory of any man who has read much in any language. Common speech is so full of words to express these ideas that no man can grow up in civilized society without acquiring some apprehension of them; nor have those persons who have expressly recorded their disbelief of the doctrine implied in the use of the terms ever pretended that they were unable to understand the terms themselves. Nor would it be possible to convey the ideas by means of a definition into the mind of a man who should affect to attach no meaning to the terms; for it is the function of definitions, not to put new ideas into the mind, but to separate off from the rest a part of the ideas already there. In short, nothing further can be said by way of explaining more clearly what is meant by the vulgar notion of moral desert, which might be defined to be an abstract quality, metaphorically attributed to actions in the same way that qualities of sense, such as colour, are attributed to material bodies.

So deeply are the marks of this notion imprinted upon language, and so intimately are

It will appear presently that this point has not been dwelt upon at such length for nothing. Enough has at least been said to make clear the following account of the real issue of the philosophical controversy about the will. The question was this, whether the vulgar notion of moral desert is a real or

a fantastic notion. Most people hold that it is a real notion. That is to say, they hold that the relation between vice and punishment, to which the feeling above described is supposed to witness, and which the vulgar notion of moral desert takes for granted, is a real relation; and that they are not only intelligible, but also speaking the truth, when they say that vice ought to be punished even though no ulterior benefit, whether to the criminal or to society, be secured by the punishment. On the other hand certain individuals, such as Priestley, have held that the vulgar notion of moral desert is a fantastic notion-that there is in reality no such relation as that to which the feeling of moral indignation is supposed to witness, and that criminals ought to be punished only in order to their own benefit or to the benefit of others. Priestley, indeed, was bound in consistency to maintain that they ought not to be punished at all; but we need not tie him down strictly to the rather foolish remark quoted above. That remark, by the way, affords a good illustration of the difficulties which beset a man who, adopting a theory opposed to the common sentiments of mankind, finds himself obliged either to use language which tacitly assumes what he expressly repudiates, or else to disgust his readers by the perpetual recurrence of tedious and strange periphrases. But in many cases they cannot be let off by a mere change of words. They show by what they say and do that their minds, no less than their tongues, are still held in bondage by the old prejudice which they affect to despise. Thus the unitarian Priestley cannot contain his indignation at the doctrines of the infidel Gibbon-a double inconsistency; for the one had the same right to his infidelity that the other had to his unitarianism; and even if he had not, it was impossible to find a ground for indignation at anything, under the Doctrine of Philosophical Necessity, as Priestley himself very distinctly remarked on another occasion when he happened not to feel indignant.

The vulgar notion of moral desert being the real point at issue in the controversy about the will, the two opinions about it were of course espoused by different sides. Those who maintained that there is free will did so in order that they might be able to maintain that the vulgar notion of moral desert is a real notion; and those who maintained that the notion is a fantastic notion were obliged to do so because they denied that the will is free. There is therefore this important difference between the positions of the two sides with regard to the point at issue, that the Libertarians (as we may call them) cared nothing about the will

| for its own sake, and only devised their theory of the will in order to support their opinion about the vulgar notion; while the Philosophical Necessitarians were obliged by their analysis of the facts to deny the reality of the vulgar notion. From this we should expect to find the result of the Necessitarian analysis much more luminous and intelligible than the result of the Libertarian analysis; and so we do find it. The analysis of the facts of volition was the strength of Necessity and the weakness of Freewill. It would perhaps be difficult to supply the Libertarians with a better form of words than that which they devised; but this has always been the sport of their opponents. I will quote two statements of it.The first is from the hand of an enemy to the doctrine; but it is quite fair:-"To prove that a man has freewill in the sense" apposite to the doctrine of the Libertarian, he ought to feel that he can do different things while the motives remain precisely the same."* The second account, from the hand of a friend to the doctrine, is to the same purpose; that is to say, it asserts that the writer does feel what Hartley says he ought to feel :-"In every act of volition, I am fully conscious that I can at this moment act in either of two ways, and that, all the antecedent phenomena being precisely the same, I may determine one way to-day, and another way to-morrow." I myself hold the Doctrine of Freewill; that is to say, I hold that the vulgar notion of moral desert is a real notion. But I cannot help assenting to Mr. Mill's criticism of this passage from Dean Mansel.

If this account of the real scope of the controversy be correct, it will suggest a sus picion that only two theories of the will are possible, and that all others which have ever been propounded are confused presentations of the one or the other of these two. This, I think, may be easily shown. If we examine the various theories which have been proposed, it will appear that, by paring off excrescences and reconciling inconsistencies, their number may be reduced to two, one of which represents the affirmation, and the other the denial, of the reality of the vulgar notion of moral desert. The former is .commonly called the Doctrine of Freewill the latter has been called by different names, and there is some difficulty about finding a name for it, because its adherents are not at all agreed upon the fitting title, and those

Hartley, Theory of the Human Mind, ed. by Priestley, 1775, p. 341.

† Mansel, Prolegomena Logica, p. 166. Examination of Hamilton, 2d ed. p. 503, note.

who favour one title are apt to complain | Doctrine of the Causation of Human Ac that the use of any other is unfair. As we tions is a rather long phrase, I will venture have seen, Priestley calls it the Doctrine of to substitute for it on all occasions the word Philosophical Necessity; and this title is Determinism, which Mr. Mill notices with also used by Hartley, who, however, seems some approval. Then it will be my object to prefer to talk about the Mechanism of to show that these four doctrines may be Human Actions. However, it matters little reduced to two. I shall first attempt to what we call the doctrine, provided we are show that Asiatic Fatalism does not properly careful to attach the right idea to the name. touch the will at all, nor yet the vulgar noTo me the phrase Philosophical Necessity tion of moral desert; that is, it must be reseems to be much the best that has been jected altogether from the list of theories of proposed; but all coupling of the word the will. I shall next attempt to show that necessity with his opinions gives so much the distinction which Mr. Mill draws between offence to Mr. Mill, who is the most illustri- Modified Fatalism and Determinism leaves to ous of the modern defenders of the doctrine, both the same theory of the will and the that I will not use the word. same opinion about the vulgar notion of moral desert; that is, if the accidental excrescences be pared off from Modified Fatalism, it becomes Determinism pure and simple. If this much can be made out, the conflicting theories will have been reduced to the two above named, viz. Determinism and Freewill.

If we except manifest vagaries, the opinions on the question before us may be, I think, counted at first sight to be four, three of which are described by Mr. Mill as follows: "Real Fatalism," he says, "is of two kinds. Pure, or Asiatic fatalism, the fatalism of the Edipus, holds that our actions do not depend upon our desires. Whatever our wishes may be, a superior power, or an abstract destiny, will overrule them, and compel us to act, not as we desire, but in the manner predestined. Our love of good and hatred of evil are of no efficacy, and though in themselves they may be virtuous, as far as conduct is concerned it is unavailing to cultivate them. The other kind, Modified Fatalism I will call it, holds that our actions are determined by our will, our will by our desires, and our desires by the joint influence of the motives presented to us and of our individual character; but that, our character having been made for us, and not by us, we are not responsible for it, nor for the actions it leads to, and should in vain attempt to alter them. The true doctrine of the Causation of human actions maintains, in opposition to both, that not only our conduct, but our character, is in part amenable to our will; that we can, by employing the proper means, improve our character; and that if our character is such that while it remains what it is it necessitates us to do wrong, it will be just to apply motives which will necessitate us to strive for its improvement, and so emancipate our selves from the other necessity; in other words, we are under a moral obligation to seek the improvement of our moral character."* If we add Freewill to this list, it will, I believe, comprise all the doctrines worthy of notice. We shall then have four altogether-Asiatic Fatalism, Modified Fatalism, the True Doctrine of the Causation of Human Actions, and Freewill. As the True

* Examination, etc., p. 516.

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First, then, let us consider Asiatic Fatalism. According to the most obvious interpretation of Mr. Mill's words-" that our actions do not depend upon our desires' it would appear that, in the scheme of Asiatic Fatalism, Fate makes use of involuntary motions of the muscles in order to effect its decrees; as if a man should attempt to sheathe his sword, and should be compelled to execute an automatic thrust at the breast of a friend. But this is not the Fatalism of the Asiatics, nor is it the Fatalism of the Edipus. If a Turk refuses to get out of the way of a cannon-ball, it is not because he thinks that Fate would paralyse or convulse his muscles, but because he thinks that another ball would be ready for him both on the right hand and on the left. And the common story leaves Edipus in possession of just so much free will, whatever that may be, as anybody else. In the scheme of Fatalism, as it really exists, men are left unfettered in just the same sense as in the scheme of Freewill, and they act in just the same way, whether that is to be styled free or bond; but their actions do not affect the course of events, because, as the phrase goes, it comes to the same thing in the end. Nothing hinders them from willing or from acting; but Fate so disposes matters that their own actions, whatever they may be, are the means to bring about the fated event. And such Fatalists seem to hold-and there is no reason why they should not-the reality of the vulgar notion of moral desert, in just the same sense as the great bulk of the rest of mankind. That is to say, actual Fatalists, so far as one can judge by what they say and do, seem to

hold the Doctrine of Freewill; and there is no reason why they should not, though they are not obliged to hold it. In short, Fatalism is irrelevant to the question. A man does not reject Freewill by acquiescing in external coercion, neither does he accept it. The fact that some external power inflexibly controls the course of physical events is irrelevant both to every theory of the facts of volition and also to every opinion about the vulgar notion of moral desert. It is not itself a theory of the will in any sense, and it is equally compatible with any and every theory.

So far I have been speaking of Fatalism as it is actually professed; but my remarks would apply equally well to the Asiatic Fatalism of Mr. Mill if he intended his words to bear their literal meaning. The fact that my actions do not depend upon my desires is irrelevant to any and every theory of the will. If I attempt to sheathe my sword, and my armἀτεχνῶς καθάπερ τὰ παραλελυμévа тou owμаτos pópia-flies up against my desire, and the weapon is thrust into the body of a friend, that is quite beside the question of volition. The involuntary spasm of the muscles is an external force; and my will has no more concern in the act done than if it had been done by another man. The spasm, which I cannot help, is no more incompatible with the freedom or the bondage of my will, than is the fall of an avalanche down Mont Blanc, which also I cannot help. I am equally guilty if I try to stab my friend and fail to do it, and equally innocent if I try not to stab him and am forced to stab him against my desire. This is true upon any view of Fatalism Proper, which is not really concerned with the will, but with an inexorable procession of external

events.

In the most philosophically perfect form in which we can imagine it to exist, Fatalism would maintain that every event whatsoever, whether great or small, is equally and inevitably determined beforehand from all eternity; but, as it is held in real life, it is a partial and capricious system, in which the influence of fate is limited to certain events of particular interest either to the world at large or to the individual. The Turk believes that there is a moment inexorably appointed for his death, and for great events of good and ill fortune; but he does not extend this belief to trifles; and even though he were forced by argument to do so in words, it is probable that he would soon forget the import of what he had admitted. The same conclusion seems to follow from an examination of the fatalist myths of antiquity. No great difference, perhaps no difference at all,

can be pointed out between the vulgar notion of moral desert as it then prevailed and as it prevails now; though, which is quite another matter, there was, and is, a good deal of difference of opinion about the specific acts to which this quality of desert should be attributed. Not only is Fatalism speculatively compatible with Freewill, but in real life the two are actually found to be held, or confused, together; and the degree in which a particular man is a Fatalist may vary from time to time according to circumstances, sometimes without his being aware of the change.

The current opinion that Fatalism is incompatible with Freewill can be easily explained. It seems to arise from the fact that Fatalism does tend to affect practice, and to affect it in a way that looks like paralysing the will, though it is not really so. If a man is firmly persuaded that, whatever he does, everything must turn out the same in the end, then, not caring to take useless trouble, he will perhaps sit still and let things take their course. But in so doing he is neither denying that he has a will nor that his will is free, any more than a man denies that he has a free will by refusing to attempt to escape from prison when he thinks that the walls are too high and the guards

too watchful.

In the next place, as to Modified Fatalism. Here it is my object to show that two separate theories of the will cannot be got out of Modified Fatalism and Determinism-not to show that there is no difference between the theories of the will which they involve. My view of the matter is this, that Determinism is an intelligible and tenable theory of the will, and that Modified Fatalism is merely Determinism with the addition of some irrelevant and false propositions. If we pare off these excrescences, Modified Fatalism becomes Determinism pure and simple, and there is thus only one theory of the will to be got out of the two. Let us now see how the matter stands.

Determinism really is a theory of the will, in a sense in which Freewill is not. The Libertarian constructs his theory of the will only in order to defend his opinion about the vulgar notion of moral desert; but the Determinist is forced only by his theory of the will to adopt his opinion about the vulgar notion. Therefore the Determinist's analysis of the facts of volition is likely to be much more significant than that of the Libertarian; and so it is. The result at which the Determinist arrives is this, that the operation of the will is determined in any case by the resultant of all the motives (using the word in a wide sense) which ex

ist at a given instant, in a manner analogous | will, but the reality of the vulgar notion of to that in which the motion of a particle is moral desert-the meaning of which expresdetermined by the resultant of all the forces sion has been sufficiently explained. When, applied to it; so that, by consequence, if we in the next section, we examine the current had a perfect knowledge of the character of arguments, the truth of this proposition will a man, and of the motives present in any be further and abundantly illustrated. (2d), given case, we could decide with perfect There are only two sides to the controversy, certainty before the event what would be one representing the affirmation, the other his conduct. Now in what does this differ representing the denial, of the reality of this from Modified Fatalism? The Modified vulgar notion. These are respectively styled Fatalist appeals to the same facts of volition, Freewill and Determinism. (3d), Fatalism performs the same analysis, and deduces the is in no sense a theory of the will; and it is same result-that is, he allows that Deter- equally compatible with any and every minism is true. But, not content with this theory. This point calls for especial notice, much, he goes on to deduce some further because Fatalism has, in fact, been often consupposed consequences which do not really fused with Determinism; and it is hard to follow. For, though it does follow, if De- say whether the hasty accusations of the terminism be true, that the vulgar notion of Libertarians or the lame vindications of the moral desert is a fantastic notion, yet it does Determinists have been most conspicuous not follow that malefactors must therefore for want of acuteness or of attention. The cause of the confusion has been explained above. I will add, that I have found no trace of real Determinism in the Greek and Roman Schools. There the opposite of Freewill seems to be always real Fatalism.

go unpunished. As Mr. Mill says, it is very proper, in any case, to apply to the wills of the wicked motives which will oblige them to do good rather than evil. Though the Determinist, as is expressly admitted by Hartley, Priestley, and Mr. Mill, cannot propose to himself any end in punishing crime, except the good of the criminal and of society, yet this motive still remains, and it is a very sound motive. But the Modified Fatalist, seeing that the old notion of a purely retributive justice, to which he has been accustomed, cannot be maintained under Determinism, rushes to the conclusion that no sufficient reason can be alleged in favour of punishing criminals; using such language as this, "that men ought not to be punished for their actions, since these are involuntary," or this, "that men attempt in vain to alter their characters," and so on. Thus the case stands between Modified Fatalism and Determinism. Both state the same propositions about the will; but the Modified Fatalist adds certain other propositions, not about the will, which are rejected by the Determinist. Both are agreed that the vulgar notion of moral desert is a fantastic notion; but the Modified Fatalist adds a further conclusion-that bad actions ought not to be punished-which does not follow, and which is repudiated by the Determinist. Therefore, though it cannot be said that there is no difference between the Modified Fatalist and the Determinist, yet it is true that there is no difference between their theories of the will.

This ends the first part of our inquiry, which is also the least intricate and laborious. Before proceeding further, I will sum up briefly the points which I shall now take as proved:-(1st), The true point at issue in the controversy was not the freedom of the

We are now to direct our attention to the general run of the arguments alleged on both sides. The main scope of the debate is easily intelligible, and has been half suggested already. The process of controversy was a confused and unmethodical attempt to reconcile, or to decide between, three salient facts, which must always emerge whenever the subject is considered:-(1.) The extreme tenacity with which the feeling of most men clings to a belief in the reality of the vulgar notion of moral desert, and the repugnance with which it shrinks from the consequences of giving up that belief. (2.) The great difficulty, on the other hand, of meeting the Determinist's analysis of the facts of volition, which is well illustrated by the weakness of the counter-statements of the Libertarians. (3.) The apparent antagonism between Liberty in man and Prescience in God. The true weight and bearing of great practical arguments like these cannot easily be estimated; and the grounds of an estimate cannot easily be conveyed in words. Nor does it seem likely, to judge by the past, that any expenditure of logic will balance them to the satisfaction of all minds.

But it would in truth be no solitary instance, if reason should ultimately fail to settle the difficulty; for experience seems rather to show that reason, by itself, seldom is enough to establish any speculative proposition which is not revolting to common sense. Mere reason must not be suffered to run wild any more than mere passion; and

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