One or the other of

ways been. The question is, which? these counter propositions is and must be true. The former is inconceivable, says Hamilton: we cannot think existence out of being, in either direction, future or past; cannot think that which has actual existence, to have ever had absolutely no existence, in any form; and so we conclude the latter to be the true supposition. But is the latter any less inconceivable? Can we more easily construe it to thought, that a thing shall always have existed, than that it shall begin to exist? Can we conceive infinite duration? By the very first principles of the philosophy of the conditioned, we cannot. Why, then, should we reject the first form of the alternative, on the ground of its inconceivability, rather than the other, on the same ground? Why is it that, practically, all men decide in favor of the latter of the two counter propositions, both and equally inconceivable? There must be a reason for this universal decision of the human mind. Logic can show no reason: she declares that one or the other must be true; but which she knows not, cares not. It is extra-logical, purely psychological, this uniform and universal choice of alternative. The theory which resolves causality into the inability to conceive the unconditioned, seems to us to leave unexplained this great psychological fact.

With all deference to the authority of Sir William Hamilton, and while fully accepting the philosophy of the conditioned in its general principles, we question its applicability to the law of cause. If, however, it is thus applied, would it not have been more in accordance with his own system, and with the demands of the argument, to have presented it in a somewhat modified form? We can neither conceive the absolute commencement, nor yet the infinite non-commencement, that is, infinite duration, of existence; yet, by the law of excluded middle, one or the other of these contradictory propositions must be true. Being must absolutely commence, or being, in some form, must always have existed. In this dilemma observation comes to our aid, and assures us that the apparent beginnings which take place around us, and which at first would seem to favor the supposition of

absolute commencement of existence, are invariably grounded in something lying back of, and giving rise to, these changes; look where we will, we find no such thing as absolute beginning, but always and everywhere the reverse; and thus the scale, which, in the hand of simple logic, had hung in even balance, turns now in favor of the proposition, that being, in some form, must always have existed; in other words, that nothing is uncaused.

The philosophy of the conditioned is applied, also, to the idea of freedom. Few words must here suffice. Inasmuch as we cannot conceive the absolute commencement of any thing independent, that is, of all previous existence, we cannot, consequently, conceive a cause not itself caused. The will is regarded as a cause; but, for the reason just stated, it cannot be conceived as an original independent or free cause, a cause which is not itself an effect; for this would be to conceive an absolute origination. But a cause which is conditioned, determined to its action by other causes or influences, is not a free cause, or a free will. Freedom is, therefore, inconceivable. But so, likewise, is its opposite, necessity; for it is equally impossible to conceive an infinite noncommencement, an infinite series of conditioned causes, which the latter scheme supposes. Yet, by the laws of thought, of these contradictions, both inconceivable, one must be true: the will must be free, or not free. In this dilemma comes in human consciousness and throws her casting-vote in favor of freedom. We know that we are free, though we

cannot conceive how.

"We are unable to conceive an absolute commencement; we cannot, therefore, conceive a free volition. A determination by motives cannot, to our understanding, escape from necessitation. Nay, were we even to admit as true, what we cannot think as possible, still the doctrine of a motionless volition would be only casualism; and the free acts of an indifferent are, morally and rationally, as worthless as the preordered passions of a determined will. How, therefore, I repeat, moral liberty is possible, in man or God, we are utterly unable, speculatively, to understand. But practically to feel

that we are free, is given to us in the consciousness of an uncompromising law of duty, in the consciousness of our moral accountability; and this fact of liberty cannot be redargued on the ground that it is incomprehensible; for the philosophy of the conditioned proves, against the necessitarian, that things there are which may, nay must, be true, of which the understanding is wholly unable to construe to itself the possibility.

"But this philosophy is not only competent to defend the fact of our moral liberty, possible though inconceivable, against the assault of the fatalist; it retorts, against himself, the very objection of incomprehensibility by which the fatalist had thought to triumph over the libertarian. For, while fatalism is a recoil from the more obtrusive inconceivability of an absolute commencement, on the fact of which commencement the doctrine of liberty proceeds, the fatalist is shown to overlook the equal but less obtrusive inconceivability of an infinite non-commencement, on the assertion of which non-commencement his own doctrine of necessity must ultimately rest. As equally unthinkable, the two counter, the two one-sided, schemes are thus theoretically balanced. But practically our consciousness of the moral law,which without a moral liberty in man would be a mendacious imperative, gives a decisive preponderance to the doctrine of freedom over the doctrine of fate. We are free in act, if we are accountable for our actions." (Wight's Phil. of Sir W. H. p. 508-512.)

The only question we should raise respecting this argument, relates to the idea of freedom here implied. Is it essential to a free volition, that it be a volition undetermined by motives? Is a motiveless will the only free will? It seems to us that too much is here conceded to the necessitarian. Grant him this, and nothing is easier than for him to show that no such thing as freedom exists, or can exist, in heaven or on earth. Freedom becomes not only inconceivable, but impossible, on this ground. Neither man nor God possesses any such freedom. To the divine Mind, its own nature, and the eternal fitness of things, are a law; and by this law its action is conditioned. That infinite abhorrence of evil which

dwells ever in the divine Mind and shapes its action, is not itself without a cause. And as to man, who does not know that his choices are influenced and determined by a thousand varying circumstances; that his very nature, be it what it may, is an ever-present and powerful influence upon his will; that his reason and moral sense, whether coinciding with or counteracting the impulses of that nature, act also as determining influences; so that the actual volitions of man are never absolute originations of the will, for which no reason exists, no ground of their being, out of the mere faculty of willing; but, on the contrary, when we choose, it is always in view of something which influences the choice and which is the reason or ground why we choose as we do. Nor is it possible to choose under other circumstances. Absolute indifference is incompatible with choice. Where there is no preference, there is no choice; and where no choice, no volition.

Such a freedom as is here supposed is, then, not merely inconceivable, but is neither actual nor possible, whether to God or man. And, accordingly, this is not the freedom for which consciousness gives her casting-vote, when called to decide the vexed question of the will. We are conscious of freedom, but not of the sort of freedom now intended. We know that we are free; but we also know that our choices are influenced by motives.

While, then, we fully admit the impossibility of conceiving, on the one hand, a cause not itself caused; and, on the other, an infinite series of determined causes, we cannot adopt the idea of freedom here implied; nor concede that a will under the influence of motives is, for that reason, not a free will.

ARTICLE IV.

THE CHRISTIAN LAW OF SELF-SACRIFICE.'

BY REV. SAMUEL HARRIS, D. D., PROFESSOR IN BANGOR THEOLOGICAL

SEMINARY.

IT is a German legend, that the emperor Charlemagne comes from his grave, every spring, to bless the land. Up and down the Rhine he walks, flinging his blessing on gardens, vineyards, and fields, to make the seed spring up and to multiply the vintage and the harvest. So the departed good, in the reformations which they effected, in the principles which they taught, in the institutions which they founded, reappear in the scenes of their life-long interest, to quicken every healthful growth, and multiply the ingathering of human joy. And as this Seminary sends out its successive classes, each year scattering its handful of true seed-corn, in the hope that "the fruit thereof shall shake like Lebanon," it is its venerable fathers who reappear, in their abiding influence, and fling their blessing on the churches that they loved and served.

Meeting you, brethren of the Society of Inquiry, as another class are leaving the investigations of your Association for their life-work, our minds naturally go forward, in sympathy, to the coming toils and trials which, as yet, you inadequately understand. In the divine words are mingled joy and sorrow: "He that goeth forth and weepeth, bearing precious seed, shall come again with rejoicing, bringing his sheaves with him." Why, with this promise of sheaves gathered with joy, the vision of tears watering seed sown? Are deeds of beneficence fecundated only when steeped in tears? So, at least, the fact commonly is. Beautiful the vision of a long life in the unruffled enjoyment of

This Article is an address delivered July 31, 1860, at the Anniversary of the Society of Inquiry, in Andover Theological Seminary.