But this false distinction opens a door to the solution of the whole difficulty. Their improper question has been, ‘Is the will free?’ The proper question would be, ‘Is the understanding free?’ that is, has a man’s will all the case before it, when he decides upon any given question? A blind understanding will lead to a false determination, though that determination is made without anything approaching compulsion.
Now, this I apprehend to be just the true state of the case: the NATURAL man, having his understanding darkened, being alienated from the life of God through the ignorance that is in him because of the blindness of his heart — and moreover, being possessed by the devil, whose energizing consists in maintaining and increasing his blindness — forms his decisions and determinations upon partial and false evidence. The same observation extends to the SPIRITUAL man, in so far as he is not spiritual; in so far as his flesh (through which the devil acts upon him) is allowed, in subservience to the great general principle, ‘God’s glory in his real good’ to influence the determination of his will. So that it is the judgment, perception, or understanding, not the will, correctly speaking, which is really in bondage — that faculty which presents objects to the determining faculty, presenting them erroneously, either by suppressing what ought to be made present, or giving a false colour or distorted appearance to that which is and ought to be there. This suggestion will explain the paradox that the will is at the same time, free and not free. In popular language, the will is free, inasmuch as, from its very nature, it cannot be compelled; the will is not free, inasmuch as it acts in the dark: so that it may more fitly be called blind-will, than bond-will, which is Luther’s term.
This suggestion will go further; it will explain all mysteries and all paradoxes: Paul’s conflict in Romans 7 — Pharaoh’s hardening — our own daily experience — indeed, the whole system of God’s government, in ruling as He does, a world of moral beings — these all flee before it. Only those considerations which He makes present, can really constitute the materials of any judgment which we form, and consequently of any determination which we can come to, with respect to our own actings. That is, our volitions, while free, are subject to His agency, and through the means of our perceptions, His will becomes ours. — I have adopted throughout, however, the language of the combatants; which is also the language of common life.
I speak of the will as free, or in bondage; and I use the term Freewill, as expressive of some supposed power in man, separating it into a sort of distinct substance, and almost continually personifying it.
Let it be conceded then, that the question is not correctly worded: that the proper inquiry is not whether man’s will is free, but whether man is free; or rather, as we have just seen, whether his perceptive faculty is clear and entire. Still, the substance of the debate remains unaltered, and its importance unimpaired. Essentially, we are ascertaining what is the moral state of man; and the considerations, indeed, even the expressions, introduced into many parts of the discussion, will show that it is not an abstract and isolated question about the will which we are entertaining, but an investigation of our Adam-soul. What would be called momentous, if this subject is not so? What can be understood, if this is unknown? Of what sort is the Christ of an ignorant Freewiller? (See Part i. Sect. v., vi., vii., viii.) The truth is, ignorance of the real state of man lies at the root of all religious ignorance. And it is manifestly the ordained, arranged, and continually operated course of the Lord’s dealings with his people, to bring them to the knowledge, use, and enjoyment of Himself through the means of deep, minute, self-emptying and self-abasing self-knowledge. How can this be, if not by opening to us the abyss of impotency as well as crime, of blindness as well as enmity, into which we have freely plunged ourselves?
It is the peculiarity of this treatise to explore the present state of the human soul by the aid of scripture testimonies and scriptural reasonings exclusively — without one syllable of abstract philosophical investigation beyond what is absolutely necessary to writing and reading bout it intelligibly. 54 Luther was not ignorant of metaphysics.
He had been thoroughly trained in Aristotle and the schoolmen.55 If he forbore to use such weapons, it was because he disdained them; I should rather say, it was because, according to his own testimony as recited already, he found them pernicious. Erasmus sometimes compels him to break a lance of this kind, when he gives full proof that he could have handled such weapons dexterously, if he had deemed them to be the weapons of the sanctuary. One who was no common speculator, and no unskilful arbitrator, said of him, ‘Even in the metaphysical niceties, which could not be entirely avoided in this abstruse inquiry, he greatly proved an overmatch for Erasmus.’ But those who have really submitted themselves to the authority of Scripture, and drunk deeply enough to know the Father’s testimony concerning Jesus, will feel that, as this subject is the most momentous which can engage the human soul, so this method of investigating it can alone be expected to yield a satisfactory conclusion. They will rejoice therefore, that such a man as Erasmus — a man well acquainted with the letter of Scripture (so Luther testifies of him qui sic nostra omnia perlustravit — Part iii. Sect. vi. note e) — should have delivered his challenge in the form of an appeal to the canonical Scriptures only; and that such a man as Luther, who had penetrated to no inconsiderable depth in the mines of that volume, should have accepted and brought it to issue.
The ORDER of the argumentation is minutely shown in the Table of Contents which follows, and is afterwards noticed at the head of each Part and Section. I shall only premise therefore, that after a short Introduction, Luther pursues the order of Erasmus’ march (who, desultory as he is, furnishes us with a clue for his labyrinth), first examining his Preface, then his Proem, then his testimonies, then his pretended refutation, and afterwards establishing his own position by direct proof. He concludes the whole with a pathetic address, even as each Part exhibits a specimen of the melting mood, in its close. It is a common idea that Luther wanted softness; yet the once-cloistered, but afterwards conjugal and paternal monk, could weep, be gentle, be compassionate, be a little child.
The FORM of the treatise is epistolary: it is truly nothing but a LETTER to Erasmus; and therefore I have preferred the division of PARTS to that of CHAPTERS — considering chapters of a letter as anomalous, though I grant that we are accustomed to it in our distribution of the Scriptures. This division, however, it is to be remembered, has no authority, and has led to much misconstruction; Locke advises those who would understand Paul to disregard it. I have only one caution to give with respect to these Parts; which is that the reader not allow himself to take fright at some of the less inviting gladiations of the first Part — not that I account them uninteresting, but that the work increases in interest, as it proceeds. I trust the reader will find it so, and will remember meanwhile, that we must make a way to the walls, as well as storm them.
I cannot compliment Luther upon his STYLE: the sentences are long, the ideas multifarious; the words often barbarous, their collocation inharmonious. But there is always meaning in what he says, although that meaning is not always obvious, or clear.
He is sometimes elaborately eloquent, and often simply so. The language is like the man. He is Hercules with his club, rather than Achilles with his sword; more of a Menelaus than an Ulysses; always forcible, sometimes playful; drawing wires now and then; never leaving a loophole for his adversary to escape through, but dragging him through many of his own.
The EXCELLENCES of this treatise are a noble stand for truth on its proper ground — God’s testimony unmixed with man’s testimony (see Part ii. Sect, i-xii.); that ground is cleared from objection (Part ii. Sect. xiii. xiv.); an integral part of the truth of God is firmly set on its base (see Part iii. Part iv. Part v.); much of it, besides, is collaterally and incidentally asserted or implied — proved, or left to clear and palpable inference — so that a man need not fear to say, ‘Give me Luther, and I will give you THE TRUTH.’
But Luther has not given it to us, either in this treatise or elsewhere. The defects of his theological system are manifest in this best of his best, 56 as well as his other performances. I say ‘theological system,’ because TRUTH is one vast whole, not a number of disjointed and dissevered propositions — a whole made up of many parts
