Freedom of the Will by Jonathan Edwards (Modern, Updated Translation)

Freedom of the Will Book Summary

Jonathan Edwards' A Careful and Strict Enquiry into the Modern Prevailing Notions of That Freedom of the Will, Which Is Supposed to Be Essential to Moral Agency, Virtue and Vice, Reward and Punishment, Praise and Blame—commonly known as Freedom of the Will—is a seminal work of Calvinist philosophy and theology. Written amid the Great Awakening, it defends the doctrine of divine sovereignty against Arminian views that emphasize human free will as self-determining.

Edwards argues that true moral agency does not require libertarian freedom (the ability to choose contrary to one's inclinations) but is compatible with determinism, where actions follow necessarily from motives and God's foreordination.

Structure and Key Sections

The treatise is divided into four parts:

1. Part I: Definitions and Preliminaries Edwards clarifies terms like "will," "necessity," and "liberty." He defines the will as "that by which the mind chooses anything"—not a separate faculty but the mind's act of preferring one option over another. An act of will is "necessary" if it inevitably follows from prior causes (e.g., motives), but this is moral necessity (compulsion by inclinations), not natural necessity (physical coercion, like a stone falling). Liberty is the power to act according to one's will, not to will otherwise.
2. Part II: Critique of Arminian Liberty Edwards dismantles the Arminian notion of "self-determining power" or indifference—the idea that the will can choose without being determined by the strongest motive. He contends this leads to absurdity:
   • Choices would be random and uncaused, undermining moral responsibility (an effect without a cause cannot be praised or blamed).
   • It implies infinite regress (what determines the act of choosing to choose?). Using logical precision, he shows that every volition has a cause in the soul's motives, shaped by character, habits, and external influences. The "strongest motive" always prevails, making actions predictable yet voluntary.
3. Part III: Determinism and Moral Agency Here Edwards affirms that all events, including human choices, are foreordained by God in an eternal decree. Yet humans remain accountable because:
   • Actions are voluntary (done willingly, without external coercion).
   • Moral good/evil resides in the heart's disposition toward God or sin. He distinguishes:
   • Philosophical necessity: Actions follow causes.
   • Moral inability: Sinners cannot love God due to corrupt nature (like a blind man cannot see light), but they can if they would—they simply lack inclination. This preserves praise/blame: Virtue is acting from love of God; vice from self-love.
4. Part IV: Objections and Theological Implications Edwards addresses counters, such as:
   • Foreknowledge: God's prescience does not cause actions but views them in the chain of causes.
   • Sin and Sovereignty: God ordains sin permissively (not actively causing evil) for greater good (e.g., displaying justice/mercy). Sinners sin freely according to their nature.
   • Scriptural Harmony: Passages on human choice (e.g., commands to repent) assume moral necessity, not indifference. He concludes that Calvinist predestination exalts God's glory while upholding human responsibility.

Core Arguments and Philosophical Method

Edwards employs rigorous logic, analogies (e.g., a balance scale tipping to the heavier side), and Scripture. Key theses:

• No Indifference: The will is always determined by the apparent good (greatest motive).
• Compatibilism: Freedom = acting without hindrance according to one's desires; determinism ensures order, not caprice.
• Original Sin: Inherited corruption inclines all to evil, necessitating divine grace for regeneration (irresistible but not coercive).

Influenced by Locke and Newton, Edwards views the mind causally, rejecting dualistic soul-body divides for a unified system under divine providence.

Freedom of the Will

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Chapter #1: What is the Will?

It might be thought that there's no real need to define or describe the will, since this word is generally as well understood as any other words we might use to explain it. And maybe it would be, if philosophers, metaphysicians, and theologians hadn't made it confusing with what they've said about it. But since that's the case, I think it might be helpful and lead to greater clarity in the following discussion to say a few things about it.

And so, I note that the will (without any complex metaphysical explanation) is what the mind uses to choose anything. The faculty of the will is the power or principle of the mind that allows it to make choices. An act of the will is the same as an act of choosing or making a choice.

If anyone thinks it's a better definition of the will to say that it's what allows the soul to either choose or refuse, I'm fine with that; although I think it's enough to say it's what allows the soul to choose. In every act of will, the mind chooses one thing over another; it chooses something rather than its opposite or the absence of that thing. So, in every act of refusal, the mind chooses the absence of the thing refused; the positive and the negative are presented to the mind for its choice, and it chooses the negative. The mind's choice in that situation is truly the act of the will: the will's decision between the two is a voluntary decision, which is the same as making a choice. So, whatever we call the act of the will—choosing, refusing, approving, disapproving, liking, disliking, embracing, rejecting, determining, directing, commanding, forbidding, inclining, or being averse, being pleased or displeased with—all can be reduced to choosing. For the soul to act voluntarily is always to act by choice. Mr. Locke says, "The will signifies nothing but a power or ability to prefer or choose." And earlier, he says, "The word preferring seems best to express the act of volition;" but adds that "it does it not precisely; for, though a man would prefer flying to walking, yet who can say he ever wills it?" But the example he gives doesn't prove there's anything else in willing but merely preferring. We should consider what the immediate object of the will is concerning a man's walking or any other external action; it's not being moved from one place to another, on the earth or through the air; these are more distant objects of preference. 

Instead, it's such an immediate exertion of himself. The next thing chosen or preferred when a man wills to walk is not his being moved to a place he wants to be, but such an exertion and motion of his legs and feet, etc., to achieve it. His willing such a change in his body at the present moment is nothing but his choosing or preferring such a change in his body at that moment, or his liking it better than not doing it. God has made and established human nature so that the soul, being united to a body in the right state, prefers or chooses such an immediate exertion or change in the body, and such a change follows instantly. There's nothing else in the actions of my mind that I'm aware of while I walk, but only my preferring or choosing, through successive moments, that there should be such changes in my external sensations and motions; along with a consistent expectation that it will be so, having always found by experience that on such an immediate preference, such sensations and motions do actually, instantly, and constantly arise. But it's not the same with flying; although a man may be said to remotely choose or prefer flying, he doesn't prefer or desire, under the circumstances he sees, any immediate exertion of his body to achieve it, because he doesn't expect to reach the desired end by such exertion. He doesn't prefer or incline to any bodily exertion under the belief that it would be completely in vain. So, if we carefully distinguish the proper objects of the various acts of the will, it won't appear from this and similar examples that there's any difference between volition and preference; or that a man's choosing, liking best, or being pleased with a thing isn't the same as his willing that thing. Thus, an act of the will is commonly expressed by it pleasing a man to do this or that; and a man doing as he wills and doing as he pleases are, in common speech, the same thing.

Mr. Locke says, "The Will is perfectly distinguished from desire; which in the very same action may have quite contrary tendency from that which our wills set us upon. A man, says he, whom I cannot deny, may oblige me to use persuasions to another, which, at the same time I am speaking, I may wish not prevail on him. In this case, it is plain the Will and Desire run counter." I don't think that Will and Desire mean exactly the same thing: Will seems to be a more general term, covering both present and future things. Desire is about something not currently present. I might prefer my current situation, like sitting still or having my eyes open, and so I will it. But I don't believe they are so different that they can truly be said to oppose each other. A person never wills something against their desires, or desires something against their will. The example Mr. Locke gives doesn't prove otherwise. A person might, for some reason, will to say words that could persuade someone else and still wish they don't persuade them; but in this case, Will and Desire don't actually oppose each other: the thing he wills is the same thing he desires; he doesn't will one thing and desire the opposite. In this example, if we carefully consider what is willed and what is desired, we would see that Will and Desire don't conflict at all. The thing willed, for some reason, is to say certain words; and that same reason makes him not desire the opposite; all things considered, he chooses to say those words and doesn't desire not to say them. 

As for the thing Mr. Locke mentions as desired, that the words, though they tend to persuade, should not succeed, his Will isn't against this; he doesn't will for them to succeed, but rather wills that they don't, as he desires. To prove that Will and Desire can oppose each other, it should be shown that they can be contrary in the same thing, or regarding the exact same object of Will or Desire: but here the objects are two; and in each, taken separately, the Will and Desire agree. It's not surprising that they might not agree on different things, even if they are slightly different in nature. The Will might not agree with the Will, nor Desire with Desire, in different things. As in this example Mr. Locke mentions, a person might, for some reason, desire to persuade and at the same time desire that persuasion doesn't succeed; but nobody would say that Desire opposes Desire; or that this proves Desire is completely different from Desire. The same could be said about the other example Mr. Locke gives, of a person desiring to be relieved from pain, etc.

But, without spending more time on this, whether desire and will, and whether preference and volition are exactly the same things, I hope everyone will agree that in every act of will, there is an act of choice. In every decision, there is a preference or a strong inclination of the soul, which means at that moment, it is not in a state of complete indifference regarding the object of the decision. So, in every act or expression of the will, the mind leans one way rather than another; the soul would rather have or do one thing than another, or rather than not have or do that thing. And where there is absolutely no preference or choice, just a perfect, ongoing balance, there is no decision.

Chapter #2: What Determines the Will?

When we talk about determining the will, it means causing the act of the will or choice to be one way and not another. The will is said to be determined when, because of some action or influence, its choice is directed towards and fixed on a specific object. It's like when we talk about the determination of motion, we mean causing the motion of a body to go in one direction rather than another.

The determination of the will implies an effect, which must have a cause. If the will is determined, there must be something that determines it. This is assumed even by those who say that the will determines itself. If that's the case, the will is both the determiner and the determined; it is a cause that acts on itself and produces effects on itself, being the object of its own influence and action.

Regarding the big question, "What determines the will?" it would be very long and unnecessary right now to go through all the different opinions that have been suggested about this. It's also not needed for me to get into a detailed discussion about all the points debated in the question, "Does the will always follow the last decision of the understanding?" For my current purpose, it's enough to say that it is the motive, which, as it appears to the mind, is the strongest, that determines the will. However, it might be necessary for me to explain what I mean a little more.

By "motive," I mean everything that moves, excites, or invites the mind to make a choice, whether it's one thing by itself or many things combined. Many specific things can come together and join their strength to influence the mind; when this happens, they all form one complex motive. When I talk about the "strongest motive," I refer to the overall strength that leads to a particular act of will, whether it's the strength of one thing alone or many things together.

Whatever is truly a motive must be something that is present in the understanding or perception of the mind. Nothing can encourage or invite the mind to will or do anything unless it is perceived or somehow in the mind's view. What is completely unperceived and entirely out of the mind's view cannot affect the mind at all. It is clear that nothing is in the mind or influences it unless it is perceived or thought about.

I think everyone would agree that anything we call a motive, excitement, or inducement for a thinking, willing person has some kind of tendency or advantage to influence or move the will before the action takes place. This initial tendency of the motive is what I refer to as the strength of the motive. A motive that has less of an initial advantage or tendency to influence the will, or seems less appealing to the mind, is what I call a weaker motive. On the other hand, the motive that seems most appealing and has the greatest initial tendency to influence and lead to a choice, based on what the mind understands or perceives, is what I call the strongest motive. In this sense, I believe the will is always determined by the strongest motive.

Things that exist in the mind's view have their strength, tendency, or advantage to move or excite its will, based on many factors related to the nature and circumstances of the thing being viewed, the nature and circumstances of the mind viewing it, and the degree and manner of its view. It might be difficult to list all these factors perfectly. However, I think we can generally agree, without much argument, that whatever is perceived or understood by an intelligent and voluntary agent, which acts as a motive for choosing or deciding, is seen as good. It doesn't have any tendency to influence the soul's choice beyond how good it appears. To say otherwise would mean that things have a tendency to engage the mind to choose them in a way other than by appearing desirable, which is illogical. Therefore, it must be true, in some sense, that the will always aligns with what seems to be the greatest apparent good. However, to understand this correctly, two things must be clearly and distinctly noted.

1. We need to understand how I use the term "good;" specifically, I mean it as "agreeable." When something appears good to the mind, I mean it seems agreeable or pleasing to the mind. Certainly, nothing seems inviting or worth choosing to the mind if it's considered evil or disagreeable; nor if it's indifferent, neither agreeable nor disagreeable. But if something tends to draw our inclination and move the will, it must be seen as something that suits the mind. Therefore, whatever has the greatest tendency to attract and engage the mind is what suits it best and pleases it most; in that sense, it is the greatest apparent good. Saying otherwise is almost like a direct contradiction.

The word "good," in this context, includes the idea of getting rid of or avoiding evil, or anything that is unpleasant and uncomfortable. It's satisfying and enjoyable to avoid what is unpleasant and to have discomfort taken away. This includes what Mr. Locke believes influences the will. When he talks about "uneasiness" as something that determines the will, he means that the goal or aim that guides the decision or act of preference is to avoid or remove that uneasiness. This is the same as choosing and seeking what is more comfortable and agreeable.

2. When I say that the will follows the greatest apparent good, or, as I've explained, that a decision always aims at what seems most agreeable, it's important to note that I'm talking about the direct and immediate object of the decision, not something the will only indirectly or remotely considers. Many decisions relate to something different from what is immediately chosen. For example, when a drunkard has liquor in front of him and must choose whether to drink it or not, the immediate objects of his decision are his own actions: drinking the liquor or leaving it alone. He will choose based on what, in his current view, seems most agreeable to him. If he chooses to drink, then this action, as he perceives it, is more agreeable and pleasing than not drinking.

But the things this decision might relate to more indirectly are the immediate pleasure the person expects from drinking and the future misery he believes will result from it. He might think that this future misery, when it happens, will be worse than the discomfort of not drinking now. However, these two things are not the direct focus of the decision being discussed. The decision is about whether to drink now or not. If he decides to drink, then drinking is the direct focus of his decision, and drinking seems most agreeable to him for some reason. If he chooses not to drink, then not drinking is the direct focus of his decision and is most pleasing to him. If he chooses a present pleasure over a future benefit that he thinks will be greater, then the smaller present pleasure seems more agreeable to him than the greater future benefit. If he chooses the future benefit instead, then that seems most agreeable to him. So, the present decision is based on what seems like the greatest good at the moment.

I have chosen to express myself by saying, "that the will always is as the greatest apparent good," or "as what appears most agreeable," rather than saying "that the will is determined by the greatest apparent good," or "by what seems most agreeable." This is because something appearing most agreeable to the mind and the mind's preference seem almost the same. If we insist on being very precise, it might be more accurate to say that the voluntary action, which immediately follows the mind's choice, is determined by what appears most agreeable, rather than the choice itself. However, the act of choosing (volition) is always determined by something in or about the mind's view of the object that makes it appear most agreeable. I say "in or about the mind's view of the object" because what makes an object seem agreeable is not only what appears in the object itself but also how the mind views it and the state and circumstances of the mind viewing it. Listing all the factors related to the mind's view of the objects of choice, which influence their appearing agreeable to the mind, would be quite difficult and might need a separate treatise, which is not necessary for my current purpose. So, I will only mention some general things.

I. One thing that makes an object proposed for choice appealing is the apparent nature and circumstances of the object. There are various factors that influence how agreeable the object is, such as: 1. The qualities that appear in the object, making it seem beautiful and pleasant, or ugly and unpleasant to the mind, when viewed as it is in itself.

2. The obvious level of pleasure or pain that comes with the object, or the result of it. These accompanying factors and outcomes are seen as part of the object's circumstances and should be considered as belonging to it. They are almost like parts of the object itself, as it is presented in the mind as a choice to be made.

3. The apparent state of pleasure or trouble that seems to depend on how close or far away it is in time. It's naturally pleasing to the mind to have pleasure sooner rather than later, and it's unpleasant to have it delayed. So, if there are two equal amounts of pleasure in view, and everything else is the same, but one is seen as closer and the other farther away, the closer one will seem more agreeable and will be chosen. This is because, even though the pleasure of the objects is exactly the same when viewed by themselves, they are not the same when viewed in their circumstances; one has the added benefit of being closer.

II. Another factor that makes an object of choice appealing, as it is perceived by the mind, is the way it is viewed. If the object seems to be linked with future pleasure, not only will the level of apparent pleasure have an impact, but also the manner of viewing it, particularly in two aspects.

1. Regarding how strongly the mind believes the pleasure will happen in the future: It is more satisfying to have a certain happiness than an uncertain one. A pleasure that seems more likely, all else being equal, is more appealing to the mind than one that seems less likely.

2. Regarding how strongly we perceive future pleasure. When we think about things—whether they're past, present, or future—we often have a much clearer and stronger idea of some things compared to others. For example, the ideas we get from directly experiencing something are usually much more vivid than those we get from just imagining or thinking about it when it's not there. My idea of the sun is more vivid when I look at it than when I just think about it. Similarly, the idea of the sweet taste of a delicious fruit is usually stronger when we actually taste it than when we just imagine it. Sometimes, our contemplation of things can be much stronger and clearer at certain times than at others. For instance, a person might have a much stronger idea of the pleasure of eating a favorite food at one time than at another. The strength of our idea or perception of future good or bad things greatly influences our minds to make decisions. When two types of future pleasure are presented for choice, even if both are judged to be exactly equal and equally certain, the mind might have a much more vivid sense of one than the other. This one has a greater advantage in attracting the mind and influencing the will. It's more appealing to the mind to choose the pleasure it has a strong and lively sense of, rather than one it only has a faint idea of. The stronger view is accompanied by a stronger desire, and there's more discomfort in not having it; it's pleasing to the mind to remove discomfort and satisfy its desire. If several future enjoyments are presented together as options, with some judged to be greater and others less, and the mind has a more vivid idea of the good of some and less of others, and some are seen as more certain or probable than others, then the enjoyment that seems most appealing in one way might seem less so in another. In this situation, if all other things are equal, the appeal of a proposed choice will be a combination of the perceived good, the apparent probability or certainty of that good, and the vividness of the idea the mind has of that good. All these factors together determine how appealing the object seems at the moment, and accordingly, the decision will be made.

I might also point out that the state of mind when considering a choice affects how agreeable or disagreeable that choice seems. This can depend on the natural temperament of the mind or what has been shaped by education, example, habit, or other influences. The mindset or mood at a particular moment also plays a role. What seems agreeable to one person might not to another. Even for the same person, the same thing might not always seem equally agreeable at different times. Some people find it more agreeable to follow their reason, while others prefer to follow their desires. Some find it more agreeable to resist a bad inclination, while others prefer to indulge their worst desires. For some, going against a previous decision is more disagreeable than for others. In these ways, and many others, different things will be most agreeable to different people, and even to the same person at different times.

But maybe it's not necessary to talk about the "state of the mind" as a separate reason for why things seem agreeable, apart from the other two reasons mentioned before: the apparent nature and circumstances of the objects viewed, and the manner of the view. If we look at it closely, the different mood and state of the mind might not change how agreeable things are, except in how they make the objects themselves seem more or less beautiful or ugly, with apparent pleasure or pain linked to them. It also affects how we view them, making the idea of beauty or ugliness, pleasure or discomfort, more or less vivid. However, I think it's clear that in every case, the will aligns with what seems to be the greatest apparent good, as explained. The mind's choice never strays from what appears most agreeable and pleasing at the time, considering everything. If the immediate objects of the will are a person's own actions, then those actions that seem most agreeable to them are what they will. If it seems most agreeable to them now, considering everything, to walk, then they will to walk. If it seems most agreeable to speak, then they choose to speak; if it suits them best to stay silent, then they choose to stay silent. There's hardly a clearer and more universal truth from human experience than when people act voluntarily and do what they please, they do what suits them best or what is most agreeable to them. To say they do what pleases them, but not what is agreeable to them, is like saying they do what they please but don't act on their pleasure; and that's like saying they do what they please and yet don't do what they please.

It seems that, in some way, the will always follows the last decision of the understanding. However, the understanding should be considered broadly, including the entire ability to perceive or comprehend, not just what we call reason or judgment. If by the decision of the understanding we mean what reason says is best or most beneficial for a person's happiness over their whole life, then it's not true that the will always follows this decision. This kind of reasoning is different from things that seem most agreeable right now, considering everything that affects the mind's current perceptions in any way. Although this reasoning does play a role in the overall influence that moves the will, and it should be considered when evaluating the level of good that the will always follows, either by adding to or subtracting from other influences. When this reasoning aligns with other factors, its weight is added to them, as if placed on the same side of a scale. But when it opposes them, it acts like a weight on the opposite side, resisting the influence of other factors. Yet, its resistance is often overcome by the greater weight of those other factors, and so the will is determined against it.

These things may help, I hope, to some extent, to explain and support the idea mentioned at the start of this section, namely, "That the will is always determined by the strongest motive," or by that perspective of the mind which has the greatest tendency to trigger a decision. But whether I have successfully explained what makes motives strong or not, failing in this won't disprove the idea itself; it carries a lot of evidence on its own and is a crucial point for the purpose of the following discussion. I hope the truth of it will become very clear before I finish what I have to say about human freedom.

Chapter #3: The Meaning of Necessity and Chance

The words necessary, impossible, etc., are frequently used in debates about free will and moral agency. Therefore, it's important to clearly understand the sense in which they are used.

Here I could say that something is considered necessary when it has to happen and cannot be any different. But this wouldn't really define necessity any more than explaining the word "must" by saying there is necessity. The words "must," "can," and "cannot" need as much explanation as the words "necessary" and "impossible," except that we tend to use the former words more often from a young age.

The word "necessary," as used in everyday language, is a relative term. It relates to some supposed opposition to the existence of something, which opposition is overcome or proves insufficient to stop or change it. In the original and proper sense of the word, something is necessary if it is or will be, despite all imaginable opposition. To say that something is necessary is the same as saying that it is impossible for it not to be. But the word "impossible" is clearly a relative term and refers to supposed power used to make something happen, which is not enough for the effect; just as the word "unable" is relative and relates to ability or effort, which is insufficient. Also, the word "irresistible" is relative and always refers to resistance that is made, or could be made, to some force or power aiming for an effect, and is not enough to withstand the power or prevent the effect. The common idea of necessity and impossibility implies something that frustrates effort or desire. Here, several things should be noted.

1. Things are generally considered necessary if they will happen despite any possible opposition from any source. But things are considered necessary for us if they will happen despite any possible opposition from us. The same can be noted for the word impossible and similar terms.

2. These terms—necessary, impossible, irresistible, etc.—are particularly relevant to discussions about liberty and moral agency, as used in the second sense mentioned earlier. This means they are considered necessary or impossible for us, and in relation to any potential opposition or effort on our part.

3. The word "necessity," in its everyday use, is relative and always refers to some kind of insufficient opposition. So, when we say something is necessary for us, it's in relation to some possible opposition of our wills or some voluntary effort we make against it. We don't really oppose an event unless we voluntarily oppose it. Things are said to be what must be, or necessarily are, for us when they happen or will happen, even if we desire or try for the opposite, or attempt to prevent or remove their existence. But this kind of opposition always involves, or implies, opposition of our wills.

It's clear that all such words and phrases, as commonly used, are understood in this way. Something is said to be necessary when we can't avoid it, no matter what we do. Similarly, something is said to be impossible for us when we want to do it or want it to happen and try to make it happen; or at least when we can be assumed to desire and seek it, but all our desires and efforts are, or would be, useless. Something is called irresistible when it overcomes all our opposition, resistance, and efforts against it. We are said to be unable to do something when our supposed desires and efforts are not enough.

We are used to applying and understanding these phrases in everyday language. We grow up with this habit, and through daily use from childhood, it becomes fixed in our minds. The idea of a connection to our supposed will, desire, and effort is strongly linked with these terms whenever we hear them. These ideas and words are so associated that they naturally go together, one suggesting the other, and they can't be easily separated throughout our lives. Even when we use the words as technical terms in a different sense, unless we are very careful, we will unintentionally slip into the common use of them. This can lead us to apply the words inconsistently, which will confuse and mislead us in our reasoning and discussions, even when we claim to use them as technical terms.

4. From what we've discussed, when terms like necessary, impossible, irresistible, unable, etc., are used in situations where no lack of will is assumed or can be assumed—because the nature of the situation itself rules out any opposition, will, or effort—these terms aren't being used in their proper meaning. The reason is clear: in such cases, we can't use these words to refer to any possible opposition, will, or effort. So, if someone uses these terms in such situations, they're either using them nonsensically or in a new sense, different from their original and proper meaning. For example, if someone says that it is necessary for a person to choose virtue over vice while they prefer virtue to vice, and that it's impossible and irresistible for it to be otherwise as long as this choice continues, they would be using terms like must and irresistible either without meaning or in a new sense, different from their common use. This common use refers to possible opposition, unwillingness, and resistance, but here, the very situation excludes and denies any such thing, because the situation is one of being willing and choosing.

5. From what has been discussed, it seems that philosophers and metaphysicians often use terms like necessary and impossible in a way that is quite different from their common and original meanings. They apply these terms to situations where no opposition can be imagined. For example, they use them concerning God's existence before the creation of the world, when no other being existed. They also use them regarding many of God's dispositions and actions, such as His love for Himself, His love for righteousness, and His hatred of sin. Similarly, they apply these terms to many situations involving the inclinations and actions of created intelligent beings where any opposition of the will is inherently excluded.

Metaphysical or philosophical necessity is the same as certainty. I'm not talking about the certainty of knowledge, but the certainty that exists in things themselves. This certainty is the foundation for the certainty of knowledge and is the reason why propositions that affirm them are infallible.

The definition sometimes given for philosophical necessity, like "that by which a thing cannot but be," or "whereby it cannot be otherwise," isn't a proper explanation for two reasons: First, the words can or cannot need as much explanation as the word necessity itself. We could explain can or cannot using necessity just as easily as explaining necessity with can or cannot. For example, if someone asks what we mean when we say a thing cannot but be, we might say it must necessarily be so, just as we might explain necessity by saying it's that by which a thing cannot but be. Secondly, this definition has a major flaw: the words cannot or unable are relative and relate to power being used or that could be used for the thing being discussed. As I've mentioned, the word necessity, as philosophers use it, doesn't refer to this.

Philosophical necessity is really just the complete and fixed connection between the things indicated by the subject and predicate of a statement, which declares something to be true. When there is such a connection, then what is stated in the proposition is necessary, in a philosophical sense; regardless of whether any opposition or contrary effort is considered or not. When the subject and predicate of the statement, which declares the existence of anything—whether substance, quality, act, or circumstance—have a complete and certain connection, then the existence or being of that thing is said to be necessary in a metaphysical sense. And in this sense, I use the word necessity in the following discussion, when I try to show that necessity is not incompatible with liberty.

The subject and predicate of a statement that affirms the existence of something can have a complete, fixed, and certain connection in several ways.

(1.) Some things are completely and perfectly connected by their own nature because it would be contradictory or absurd to think they aren't connected. For example, many things are naturally necessary. The eternal existence of being, in general, is necessary because denying the existence of being or saying there is absolute nothingness would be the greatest absurdity and contradiction. God's infinity and other attributes are also necessary. It's naturally necessary that two plus two equals four, and that all straight lines drawn from the center of a circle to the edge are equal. It's fitting and appropriate that people should treat others the way they want to be treated. Many metaphysical and mathematical truths are necessary in themselves; the subject and predicate of the propositions affirming them are perfectly connected by themselves.

(2.) The connection between the subject and predicate of a statement that claims something exists can be fixed and made certain because that thing's existence has already happened; it either exists now or has existed in the past. This makes its existence certain and unchangeably true. The past event has settled the matter of its existence, making it impossible for it not to be true. Therefore, the existence of anything that has already happened is now necessary; it is impossible for it not to be true that such a thing has been.

(3.) The subject and predicate of a statement that affirms something to exist can have a real and certain connection as a result; and so the existence of the thing can be consequently necessary. This is because it may be surely and firmly connected with something else that is necessary in one of the previous ways. It may be either fully and thoroughly connected with something that is absolutely necessary in its own nature or with something that has already been confirmed to exist. This necessity is explained by the connection of two or more propositions with each other. Things that are perfectly connected with other necessary things are themselves necessary, by a necessity of consequence.

Here, we can note that all future things, or things that will begin to exist later, can only be considered necessary in this last way. Their existence isn't necessary in itself; if it were, they would have always existed. Nor does their existence become necessary just because they have already happened. So, the only way anything that will happen in the future can be necessary is if it's connected to something that is necessary by nature, or something that already exists or has existed; meaning, if one thing is assumed, the other definitely follows. This is also the only way that all past things, except those from eternity, could have been necessary before they happened. Therefore, it's the only way any effect, event, or anything that has ever begun or will begin, has come into being necessarily, or will necessarily exist in the future. This is the type of necessity that is especially relevant to debates about the acts of the will.

It might be helpful in these debates to further consider metaphysical necessity. According to the distinction previously mentioned about necessity as commonly understood, things that exist can be considered necessary either with a general or particular necessity. The existence of something can be said to be necessary with a general necessity when, considering everything, there is a basis for being certain of its existence. Or, when looking at things in the most general and universal way, the subject and predicate of the statement that affirms its existence would appear to be infallibly connected.

An event or the existence of something can be considered necessary with a specific kind of necessity when nothing about a person, thing, or time changes the certainty of the event or the existence of the thing. Nothing can affect the sure connection between the subject and predicate in the statement that affirms the existence of the thing. So, for that person or thing, at least at that time, it's as if the existence were necessary with the most universal and absolute necessity. There are many things that happen to specific people, where their will has no influence, at least at that time. Whether these things are necessary in general, they are necessary for them and in relation to any decision they might make at that time, as they prevent any acts of will concerning the matter. I will apply this observation to specific examples in the following discussion. Whether the same things that are necessary with a particular necessity are also necessary with a general necessity might be considered later. Regardless, this doesn't change the usefulness of distinguishing between these kinds of necessity.

These explanations should be enough to clarify the terms "necessary" and "necessity" as technical terms. These terms are often used by metaphysicians and writers in theology in a way that is different from and broader than their original meaning in everyday language, which was explained earlier.

What has been explained about the terms "necessary" and "necessity" should be enough to clarify the opposite terms, "impossible" and "impossibility." The only difference is that the latter are negative, while the former are positive. Impossibility is the same as negative necessity, or a necessity that something should not happen. It is used in a similar specialized way, differing from the original and common meaning, just like "necessity."

The same can be noted about the words "unable" and "inability." It has been pointed out that these terms, in their original and common use, relate to will and effort, as something that can be considered in the situation, but not enough to achieve the desired outcome. However, when philosophers and theologians, especially those writing about debates on free will, use these terms, they often mean something quite different and much broader. They apply these terms to many situations where no will or effort to make something happen is or can be assumed.

The words necessary, impossible, unable, and so on, are often used by writers in debates in a way that is different from their usual meaning. The same thing has happened with the term contingent. Originally, something is called contingent, or said to happen by chance or accident, when we can't see its connection with its causes or what came before it, according to the usual way things happen. This means we have no way of predicting it. Something is especially called contingent or accidental for us when it happens without our knowing beforehand and outside of our plans and intentions.

But the word "contingent" is often used in a very different sense; not for something whose connection with the sequence of events we can't understand, so we can't predict the outcome, but for something that has absolutely no prior cause or reason that its existence is definitely connected to.