f necessity, as usually
maintained, is liable to the objections urged against it, that "it tends
to degrade the moral nature of man, and to paralyze our desire of
excellence."(50) In making this concession to the advocates of liberty, he
speaks from his own "personal experience." The only way to escape these
pernicious consequences, he says, is to keep constantly before the mind a
clear and unclouded view of the true theory of causation, which will
prevent us from supposing, as most necessitarians do, that there is a real
connecting link or influence between motives and volitions, or any other
events. So strong is the prejudice (as he calls it) in favour of such
connection, that even those who adopt Mr. Hume's theory, are not
habitually influenced by it, but frequently relapse into the old error
which conflicts with the free-agency and accountability of man, and hence
an advantage which their opponents have had over them.
These remarks are undoubtedly just. There is not a single writer, from Mr.
Hume himself, down to the present day, who has been able either to speak
or to reason in conformity with his theory, however warmly he may have
embraced it. Mr. Mill himself has not been more fortunate in this respect
than many of his distinguished predecessors. It is an exceedingly
difficult thing, by the force of speculation, to silence the voice of
nature within us. If it were necessary we might easily show, that if we
abstract "the common prejudice," in regard to causation, it will be as
impossible to read Mr. Mill's work on logic, as to read Mr. Hume's
writings themselves, without perceiving that many of its passages have
been stripped of all logical coherency of thought. The defect which he so
clearly sees in the writings of other advocates of necessity, not
excepting those who embrace his own paradox in relation to cause and
effect, we can easily perceive in his own.
The doctrine of causation, under consideration, annihilates one of the
clearest and most fundamental distinctions ever made in philosophy; the
distinction between _action_ and _passion_, between _mind_ and _matter_.
Matter is passive, mind is active. The very first law of motion laid down
in the Principia, a work so much admired by M. Comte and Mr. Mill, is
based on the idea that matter is wholly inert, and destitute of power
either to move itself, or to check itself when moved by anything _ab
extra_. This will not be denied. But is mind equally passive? Is
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