The contemplation of the abuses of the freedom of the press should not, however, make us unmindful of its worth and importance as an agency for good. The most valuable agencies work the greatest mischiefs when perverted. The evils deplored are incidental to a freedom which can be restrained only at the expense, as we believe, of exposure to greater evils in another direction. Much, therefore, as we deplore the abuse of the press, we stand up for its freedom-by which we mean its constitutional freedom-the liberty of "unlicensed printing," as against all censorship of government, and against all laws restraining the -- "Whoever feels pain in hearing a good character of his neighbor, will feel a pleasure in the reverse. And of those who, despairing to rise into distinction by their virtues, are happy if others can be depressed to a level with themselves there are a number sufficient, in every great town, to maintain one of these courts by their subscriptions. A shrewd observer once said, that in walking the streets in a slippery morning, one might see where the good natured people lived, by the ashes thrown on the ice before their doors. Probably he would have formed a different conjecture of the temper of those whom he might find engaged in such a subscription. "Of the checks proper to be established against the abuse of power in these Courts. Hitherto there are none. But since so much has been written and published on the federal constitution, and the necessity of checks in all other parts of good government has been so clearly and learnedly explained, I find myself so far enlightened as to suspect some check may be proper in this part also; but I have been at a loss to imagine any that may not be construed an infringement of the sacred liberty of the press. At length, however, I think I have found one that, instead of diminishing general liberty, shall augment it; which is, by restoring to the people a species of liberty, of which they have been deprived by our laws I mean the liberty of the cudgel. In the rude state of society, prior to the existence of laws, if one man gave another ill language, the affronted person would return it by a box on the ear—and, if repeated, by a good drubbing; and this without offending against any law. But now the right of making such returns is denied, and they are punished as breaches of the peace; while the right of abusing seems to remain in full force- the laws made against it being rendered ineffectual by the liberty of the press. My proposal then is, to leave the liberty of the press untouched, to be exercised in its full extent, force, and vigor; but to permit the liberty of the cudgel to go with it pari passu. Thus, my fellow citizens, if an impudent writer attacks your reputation, dearer to you, perhaps, than your life, and puts his name to the charge, you may go to him as openly, and break his head. If he conceals himself behind the printer, and you can nevertheless discover who he is, you may, in like manner, waylay him in the night, attack him behind, and give him a good drubbing. Thus far goes my project as to private resentment and retribution. But if the public should ever happen to be affronted, as it ought to be, with the conduct of such writers, I would not advise proceeding immediately to these extremities; but that we should in moderation content ourselves with tarring and feathering, and tossing them in a blanket. "If, however, it should be thought that this proposal of mine may disturb the public peace, I would then humbly recommend to our legislators to take up the consideration of both liberties- that of the press, and that of the cudgel, and, by an explicit law, mark their extent and limits; and at the same time that they secure the person of a citizen from assaults, they would likewise provide for the security of his reputation." free utterance and publication by the press of every man's thoughts and sentiments. We do this not merely because of the impossibility of a perfectly wise and upright censorship, but because no human censorship or human legislation, that attempts to take cognizance of books and writings before publication, can be relied on, in the long run, to act with sufficien twisdom and uprightness not to do a great deal more harm than good. The press must be free from restraint to publish―responsible for what it publishes. We must strive to counteract its evil issues, so far as possible, by a wise and adequate legislation, applied to the abuses of the freedom enjoyed. We have already laws against blasphemous, indecent, and libellous publications. If the existing laws be not extensive enough, or adequate within their scope, let them be made sufficient; and then let them be faithfully enforced. All immoral and criminal abuses of the press, as far as practicable, should be punished, with a severity proportioned to the inestimable value of the blessing perverted. And as to the rest as to the vast region of possible abuse which no legislation can reach, let us remember that it is God's ordination that truth and error, virtue and vice, should exist in this world, in mutual conflict, to the final triumph, no doubt, of truth and virtue; and that the press is an instrument equally available in the cause of good as of evil. Let the advocates of virtue and religion then be faithful to their trust, and hopeful in their labors in the good cause of God and human welfare. For whether or not there shall ever come on the earth the long looked, long sighed for millennium-whether or not the designs of Providence embrace the social perfectionment of mankind on the earth, still all should fervently labor for this great end the unlimited advancement of our race. ART. III.-An Inquiry respecting the self-determining power of the Will; or, Contingent Volition. By JEREMIAH DAY, President of Yale College. New Haven: Herrick & Noyes. 1838. 12mo. pp. 200. It has been remarked, we believe, (and if not, it is true,) that there are certain points in metaphysics which seem destined to remain as perpetual exercises of the human intellect. They afford a sort of intellectual gymnastics, renewed almost as regularly as the Grecian games. Each generation tries its strength upon them, and each perhaps imagines that by its efforts the contest is finally settled. But the next generation thinks differently, finding that but one head of the hydra has been cut off, in whose place have started forth seven, more horrible than the first. The task of extermination seems as hopeless as would have been that of Hercules, without the aid of Iolas; and in metaphysics it is, alas! much easier to find the former than the latter. One of the vexed questions above alluded to, is that concerning the nature and powers of the will. Its discussion, began at an early period in Greece, has been renewed in every subsequent age, and may very possibly remain a crux philosophorum to the end of time. Nevertheless, we of the present generation conceive ourselves no less entitled than our fathers to enter the lists on one side or the other. The latest work on this subject, is that whose title stands at the head of this article. We do not propose to give it a critical examination, but simply to throw together a few somewhat desultory remarks suggested by its perusal. Let us premise, however, that we like the tone of the book exceedingly. It is characterized by candor, forbearance, directness, and an apparently sincere love of truth. The style is well adapted to philosophical discussion, and ambiguity is carefully guarded against, by an explanation of the meaning of each term susceptible of more than one signification. Yet we are not sure that this precaution has always availed to prevent the possibility of misconstruction. We imagine that it will shortly become impossible for a metaphysical writer to employ any words or phrases which shall insure a correct apprehension of his meaning. For should he define every word, yet he must in so doing employ other words, and these other words having various significations, must again be defined, and so on indefinitely. In fact, we are not at all sure that precision is attained by multiplying definitions, especially of simple abstract ideas. For example, President Day has given us no less than six different senses in which the word freedom has been, or may be employed. But freedom, as Professor Upham has justly remarked, is the name of a simple idea. Every body knows what it means, but nobody can tell, except in words which form a mere synonyme of the original, and, consequently add nothing to the clearness of our conceptions. In fact, it is both unnecessary and impossible to define a simple idea. We know it better by our own minds, than we can know it through any arrangement of words. A writer may, therefore, safely enough, as we conceive, assume even the point that all minds have the same idea of freedom, and that he need give no definition. He certainly cannot reason in support or opposition to the doctrine of a free will, without his idea of the meaning of the word being obvious to every tolerable thinker. If he may not do this, in regard to some words, his labor will be as endless and as unprofitable as those of Sisyphus or the Danäides. A very large portion of President Day's work is devoted to the doctrine of contingent volition, which is assailed by every possible argument, and its absurdity demonstrated in a thousand ways. If there are those who believe that volition takes place wholly independent of motives, they may here find an abundant refutation of their system. We will not say that none such exist, but we at least have never met with them. But if President Day supposes, that in demonstrating the absurdity of contingent volition, he has also established the truth of his own system as opposed to it, we should differ from him. We believe that there is other and intermediate ground between contingency, on the one hand, and that view of the nature of the will and of motives adopted by President Day, on the other. We suppose ourselves to occupy such a middle ground. We agree with the writer before us, in rejecting the doctrine of contingent volition as utterly absurd and false. We contend as strenuously as himself for the necessary antecedence of motives. But we nevertheless differ from him on several points, as will become apparent in the course of these remarks, The word will, itself, is not always used in the same sense by disputants. With some, it means a mere faculty of choice, a power of deciding according to motives; or, rather, a susceptibi lity of being decided by motives, external or internal. It resem bles a balance, which inclines one way or the other, according as the weights are changed; or a spring, which can be set in motion by a certain amount of pressure. Others understand the will as being not only a power of choosing, but as containing in itself the grounds of its choice. They comprehend in it what are sometimes called internal motives, and thus give it a moral character, which, according to the former view, it could not have; for it is absurd to speak of a faculty of choice as holy or depraved. They also suppose a principle of intelligence resident in the will, which renders it capable not only of being influenced by motives, but of comparing and deciding between different classes of motives. In short, the will, in this sense, is the foundation of our whole moral being, the only true and proper synonyme of the me. It is evident that these different views respecting the nature of the will, have much to do with the dispute respecting its self-determining power. If it be nothing but a susceptibility of being determined by motives, it is absurd to speak of it as self-determined, in any sense. The nature of its choice must be absolutely dependent on the motives presented to it either from within or from without. The fact that external motives alone do not determine the will, is admitted as well by the opponents as by the advocates of self-determination. The influence of external motives depends on the character of internal motives, including the moral and sentient nature of man. Thus, the sight of a house in flames will induce one man to aid the distressed inmates by every means in his power, while another takes advantage of the circumstance to gratify his lawless desire of plunder. All will admit that it is primarily the internal motive which determines the character of the volition. And if these motives be included in the will, then the will is self-determined; and to say that it is so, is no more than to say that the man himself originates the volition, or, in other words, determines its character. This President Day expressly admits. So far, then, it would seem that the difference is merely a verbal one, and that by employing the word will in the same sense, both parties would agree. But if we examine farther, we shall find a real and important difference of opinion. What is the origin of these propensities, desires, and affections, called internal motives? Are they native or acquired? Are they implanted in us by a foreign agency, in which we have no share; or are they in any sense, and to any extent, dependent on our will? Let us hear what our au NO. VI.-VOL. III. 30 |