Chapter VI: Part 6

But if we turn afterwards our attention on the multitude of beings inferior to men, we shall discover also, that their action is as complete and conformable in every respect to the faculties they are endowed with, since they are governed by an imperious instinct. Full of these ideas, struck with astonishment at the appearance of an harmony so general, have we not just grounds to presume, that man, transported into infinite space by his intelligence; that man, susceptible of improvement, and continually combatting obstacles; that man, in short, this most noble work of nature, only commences in this sublunary world his race? And, since all which composes the material order of the universe appears to us in an harmony so admirable, ought we not then to conclude, that the moral order in which we perceive some things vague and not determinate; that the moral order is connected with another life more sublime and more astonishing than the other parts of creation, and will one day be ultimately developed? This singular disproportion between the harmony of the physical and apparent confusion of the moral world, seems to announce a time of equilibrium and completion; a time when we shall all know its relation with the wisdom of the Creator, as we already perceive the wisdom of His designs, in the perfect agreement of the innumerable blessings on sature with the present wants of man, and every other animated creature.

The grandeur of the human mind is indeed a vast subject of reflection; this marvellous constitution seems to remind us perpetually of a design proportioned to such a noble conception; it seems almost unnecessary that God should have endowed the soul with such noble faculties for such a short life as ours, to fulfil its limited plans and trivial pursuits: thus every thing authorizes us to carry our views further; were I to see such men as Columbus, Vesputius, Vasco de Gama, in a ship, I should not suppose that they were mere coasters.

Some try to destroy our hopes, by endeavouring to prove, that the soul is material, and that it ought to be assimilated to every thing which perishes before us; but the forms only change, the vivifying force does not perish; perhaps the soul resembles it, but with this difference, that as it is composed of memory, reflection, and foresight, it exists only by a series of consequences, which forms the distinct attributes and particular character of its essence: it follows then, that it cannot be generalized like the blind force which animates in a universal manner vegetation; but that every soul is in some measure a world to itself, and that it ought to preserve separately an identity of interest, and consciousness of preceding thoughts. Thus, in this system, the corporeal body, which distinguishes us to the eyes of others, is only the transitory habitation of that soul which is not to die; of that soul susceptible of continual improvement, and which, by degrees we can have no idea of, will probably approach insensibly to that magnificent period, when it will be thought worthy of knowing more intimately the Author of Nature.

How can we conceive the action of the soul on our senses, without a point of contact? and how conceive that contact, without the idea of matter? For it is only by experience we are acquainted with the necessity of it to occasion a motion; and without that previous knowledge, the rapidity with which one body sometimes strikes another, could only have been represented by the length of time necessary for its approach to it: however, if we had not any metaphysical knowledge of the cause of motion, and if experience only guided our judgment in this respect, why resist an idea that there is within us a faculty which acts of itself? the intimate feeling which we have of it, is certainly an argument for its existence. We cannot, besides, maintain, that a like property may be opposite to the nature of things; since if we adopt the system of the creation of the world, this property may proceed, like all others, from the Divine Power; and if we admit, on the contrary, the irreligious opinion of the eternity of the universe, there must have been from eternity a general movement without impulsion, without exterior contact, or any cause out of itself; and the action of our souls might be subject to the same laws.

The idea of the necessity of a contact, to effect a movement, would never have occurred, if we had bounded our observations to the influence of our ideas on our determinations, and the influence of those determinations on our physical being. In short, the laws of attraction and repulsion are subject to great exceptions; which exceptions may serve to support the system of the spirituality of the soul. We may be allowed to say, that there exists a vacuum in the universe, since, without this vacuum, there could not have been any motion? It is known that this motion depends on the laws of attraction but how can attraction act through a vacuum, unless it is by a spiritual force, which acts without contact, and notwithstanding the absolute interruption of matter? It is then this force, or its equivalent, that I may adopt to define the cause of the impressions of which our souls are susceptible.

Let others explain, in their turn, by what material communication, the sight of a few immoveable characters, traced on insensible marble, disturbs my soul. It is very easy to comprehend by what mechanism the eye distinguishes these characters; but there ends the physical action, for we cannot attribute to that action, the general power of producing sensations in the mind, since, perhaps, many other men may consider the same characters, without receiving any impression.

It is very possible, that our intellectual preceptions have not any connection with motion, such as we conceive it. Our interior nature, which we distinguish by the name of immaterial, is probably subject to laws very different from those which govern nature in general; but as we are obliged to apply to the mysteries of our souls, those expressions which serve to delineate or to interpret the phœnomena submitted to our inspection; these expressions, and their continual use, have insensibly habituated us to certain opinions, about the causes and developement of our intellectual faculties. It is thus that, after having used the words motion, rest, agitation, and action, to discriminate different affections of our souls, of which we know very little, we have afterwards assimilated them, foolishly, to our moral nature, to all the ideas which were represented by these denominations; and even death itself, of which we have not any clear knowledge, but by the dissolution of our physical being; death, an image borrowed from things which are under the inspection of our senses, has not, perhaps, either relation or analogy with the nature and essence of our spirit; all these are incomprehensible secrets, not mixt with any thing we are acquainted with.

We act, in this respect, like men born deaf, who apply to sounds those terms which they were accustomed to use, to express the sensations the other senses produced.

I shall only add another observation to the ideas on which I have just dwelt: perhaps we should never have thought of applying the words which express action and motion, to all the operations of our souls, if we had not at first divided our spiritual being into a great number of dependencies, such as attention, reflection, thought, judgment, imagination, memory, and foresight; and if afterwards, in order to render intelligible the variable relations of these abstract parts of our mind (these parts of a unit which we have taken to pieces, though it composed that single being ourself) we had not been obliged to have recourse to some plain expressions, like those of action, motion, attraction, and repulsion; but this familiar use of these expressions, in order to explain the accidents of our intellectual system, very much resembles the use which we make of X in Algebra, to express unknown terms.

In short, were we to submit the action of our souls to the laws of a particular movement, forming one of the dependencies of the great one, we should still have to explain the cause of the consciousness that we have of this action, which Atheists refuse to nature itself, at the very moment they make it the God of the Universe. Were reasoning able to subject all the operations of our mind to the impressions of external objects, we could not rank under the same laws, that consciousness which we have of our existence, and of the different faculties of the soul. This consciousness is not an effect, or the production of any known force, since it has been always in us independent of any external object, consequently we cannot investigate it. The conception of the existence of our souls, is as incomprehensible to us as that of eternity; what a profound thought, which even our imagination cannot embrace!

Let us admit, however, for a moment, that all the operations of our souls are determined by some impulsion, whatever it may be, we shall still be struck with the absolute difference which exists, according to our knowledge between the regular movements of matter, and the almost infinite and unaccountable emotions of our hearts and minds; so variable and so differently modified, that the attention is lost in the examination of them. And after having vainly endeavoured to conceive the union established between our thoughts and exterior objects, we have still to form an idea of the actions of these thoughts on themselves, their progression and connection; our mind led astray, lost in such a meditation, leaves us only a consciousness of our weakness, and we feel, that there is an intellectual altitude which the human faculties can never reach.

We distinguish, in a single character which our judgment can decypher, an absolute difference between soul and matter: we cannot avoid representing the latter as infinitely divisible, whilst, on the contrary, all the efforts of our imagination could never divide that indivisible unit which composes the soul, and which is the sovereign over our will, thoughts, and all our faculties[5].

But if we examine again, under another appearance, the properties of matter, we know not how to assimilate to them the emotions of our soul; for we distinctly feel those emotions, let their number be ever so numerous, when even they act together and terminate in the same center, which is that Indivisible Being before alluded to; whereas matter, by an essential property, cannot, in the same instant be pressed or struck in several manners, unless it is in parts which have a tendency to different centres.

There is not then any resemblance between the impressions that our souls receive, and the various effects which may be attributed to the action of all the material substances of which we can form any conception: they are always connected with the idea of space and extent; but that centre, where all our perceptions meet, that Judge, who dictates laws in the internal empire, whose revolutions we only know, that last Director of our will, this Indivisible Being, at the same time our friend and master, is not to be found in any compounded idea; and this unity so simple, ought necessarily to convince us, that nothing which is submitted to the dominion of our senses, can serve as a type of the idea which we are to form of the soul.

We discover the traces of this truth, when we fix our attention on the comparisons with which our spiritual unit, our identical self, is continually occupied: we imagine it seated on a throne, listening, and examining the various reasons which ought to determine its action; we see it, like Nero, yielding sometimes to Narcissus, and sometimes to Burrhus; but at the same time we distinctly perceive all the counsellors, all the flatterers, all the enemies which surround it; we never remark but a single master in the midst of the tumult and the intrigues of this court.

Whilst our soul then is thrown into motion by contemplation, and by the imperceptible modification of a fugitive idea, as well as by every thing which is opposed to material action, why should we not suppose that it is purely intelligent and spiritual? It must be confessed, that sometimes our corporeal infirmities influence our minds; but this relation is not a proof of identity, since our body may be an instrument entrusted to our soul, one of the organs which it is to make a transitory use of. The continuity of existence, considered abstractedly, certainly is in the universe a simple and natural state; and the temporary existence is perhaps the only one which is heterogeneous and accidental; the soul seems too noble to be assimilated to the latter state, it may exist in a different manner when joined to a material substance, but that connection does not make it lose its original essence.

It is to be acknowledged, that it is through the medium of our senses we know all the force of our existence; and that they are those parts of our mixt being which strike us most during a little while; and it is perhaps by a law of the same kind that we see men, engrossed by a great passion, entirely strangers to every other moral affection; but, why should it be contrary to the nature of things, that the soul, once stripped of its terrestrial cloathing, should be acquainted with the nature of its existence, and at the same time perceive those truths which now are obscured by clouds. An innate fire languishes a long time unknown in a rough stone, that stone is struck, and we see issue out a splendid light; this is perhaps a faint picture of the state in which our soul is when death breaks its fetters.

In short, in a matter so obscure every supposition is admissable, which assures us that the soul is not on earth in a state of enchantment, or in a kind of interruption of its ordinary existence. All that we see of the universe is an assemblage of incomprehensible phœnomena; and when we wish to discover the conclusion, through the aid of the ideas most on a level with our intelligence, we wander perhaps from truth; since, according to appearances, it is in the depths of infinity that it reposes.

I doubt, whether we can allow the authority of those metaphysical arguments which are made use of to defend the spirituality of the soul to be decisive; but they are sufficient to repulse the different attacks of materialists. The most evident opinion to me is, that we are too weak to comprehend the secret we search for. We have, according to our petty knowledge, divided the universe into two parts, spirit and matter; but this division serves only to distinguish the little we know from that which we have no knowledge of; there is perhaps an infinite gradation between the different properties which compose motion and life, instinct and intelligence; we can only express the ideas conceived by our understandings, and the general words which we make use of, serve only to detect the vain ambition of our mind; but with respect to the universe, in considering its immensity, we shall find, that there is sufficient space for all the shades and modifications we have no idea of. We confess, that it is the connection between our physical powers and intellectual faculties, and the action that they seem to have on each other, which nourishes our doubts and anxieties; but without this relation, without the appearance of our fall, all would be distinct in the fate of man, all would be manifest. It is then, because that there is a shade in the midst of the picture, which continually catches our attention, that we have need to collect the light of the mind and the feelings, in order to see in perspective our destiny; and it is from this motive that we find it necessary, above all, to be penetrated with the idea of a God, and to search for, in his power and goodness, the last explication which we want.

There is, in the judgments of men, a contrast which I have often been struck with. Those people, who, at the sight of the immensity of the universe, at the view of the wonders in the midst of which they are placed, fear not to attribute to our intellectual faculties the power of interpreting and understanding every thing, and even the capacity of attaining almost to the hidden secrets of our nature; these same people are nevertheless most eager to strip the soul of its true dignity, and the most obstinate in refusing it spirituality and duration, and every thing else which can exalt it.

But happily, these refusals or concessions fix not our fate: the nature of the soul will always be as unknown as the essence of the Supreme Being; and it is one of the proofs of its grandeur, to be wrapped up in the same mysteries which hide from us the universal spirit. But there are simple ideas and sentiments, which seem to bring along with them more comfort and hope than metaphysical arguments.

We cannot profoundly meditate on the marvellous attributes of thought; we cannot attentively contemplate the vast empire which has been submitted to it, or reflect on the faculty with which it is endowed, of fixing the past, approaching the future, and bringing into a small compass the expanded views of nature, and of containing, if I may use the phrase, in one point the infinity of space, and the immensity of time; we cannot consider such a wonder, without continually uniting a sentiment of admiration to the idea of an end worthy of such a grand conception, worthy of Him whose wisdom we adore. Shall we, however, be able to discover this end, in the passing breath, in the fleeting moments which compose life? Shall we be able to discover it in a succession of phantoms, which seem destined only to trace the progress of time? Shall we, above all, perceive it in this general system of destruction? and ought we to annihilate in the same manner the insensible plant, which perishes without having known life; and the intelligent man, who every day explores the charms of existence? Let us not thus degrade our fate and nature; and let us judge and hope better of that which is unknown. Life, which is a means of improvement, should not lead to an eternal death; the mind, that prolific source of knowledge, should not be lost in the dark shades of forgetfulness; sensibility and all its mild and pure emotions, which so tenderly unite us to others, and enliven our days, ought not to be dissipated as if it were the vapour of a dream; conscience, that severe judge was not intended to deceive us; and piety and virtue are not vainly to elevate our views towards that model of affection, the object of our love and adoration. The Supreme Being, to whom all times belong, seems already to have sealed our union with futurity by endowing us with foresight, and placing in the recesses of our heart the passionate desire of a longer duration, and the confused sentiment which it gives of obtaining it. There are some relations still obscure, some connections between our moral nature and futurity; and perhaps our wishes, our hopes, are a sixth sense, a faint sense, if I may be allowed to express myself so, of which we shall one day experience the satisfaction. Sometimes also I imagine, that love, the most noble ornament of our nature, love, sublime enchantment, is a mysterious pledge of the truth of these hopes; for in disengaging us from ourselves, transporting us beyond the limits of our being, it seems the first step towards an immortal nature; and in presenting to us the idea, in offering to us the example of an existence out of ourselves, it seems to interpret by our feelings that which our minds cannot comprehend.

In short, and this reflection is the most awful of all, when I see the mind of man grasp at the knowledge of a God; when I see him, at least, draw near to such a grand idea; such a sublime degree of elevation prepares me, in some manner, for the high destiny of the soul; I search for a proportion between this immense thought and all the interests of the world, and I discover none; I search for a proportion between these boundless meditations and the narrow picture of life, and I perceive none: there is then, I doubt not, some magnificent secret beyond all that we can discern; some astonishing wonder behind this curtain still unfurled; on all sides we discover the commencement of it. How imagine, how resolve the thought, that all which affects and animates us, all which guides and captivates us, is a series of enchantments, an assemblage of illusions? The universe and its majestic pomp would then have been only destined to serve as the theater of a vain representation; and such a grand idea, so magnificent a conception would have had for an object a mere dazzling chimera. What would then have signified that mixture of real beauties and false appearances? What had signified that concourse of phantoms, which, without design or end, would be less admirable than a ray of light, destined to enlighten our abode? In short, what had signified in men that union of sublime thoughts and deceitful hopes? Guard us from giving credit to such a supposition! Is it to Him then, whose power has not any limits, that we dare to attribute the artifices of weakness? Should we have seen every where order, design, and exactness, as far as our understanding can reach, and as soon as we are arrived at the utmost boundary of our faculties, should we stop the views of the Supreme Intelligence, and imagine that all is finished, because futurity is unknown? Alas! we endure but a moment, and we presume to know the past and the future! But grant us only the idea of a God; do not deprive us of our confidence in Him; it is in relying on that grand truth, that we shall be able to guard our hopes against all the metaphysical arguments which we are not immediately prepared to answer.

Would you object, that hope is not sufficient to determine men to the observance of morality, and to subject them to the sacrifices which the practice of virtue seems to impose? What then attracts them, in all the bustle of life, unless it is hope; what is it that renders them greedy of honour and of fortune, unless it is expectation? And when they obtain the object of their wishes, they have frequently only the imaginary advantages hope created. Why then would you ask for a demonstrated certainty, in order to devote yourself to all the researches which the human mind can conceive to be the most grand, the most worthy of an ardent pursuit? On the contrary, the most trifling degree of expectation should become a motive of encouragement. And what is it, of all our interests, which could be put in competition with the most fugitive idea, with the slightest hope of pleasing the Master of the World, and maintaining the intercourse which seems to be indicated by our natural sentiments, and by the first perceptions of our minds?

I would wish to go still further, and I would demand, not of all men, but of some at least, if, were even this life to be their only heritage, they would think themselves freed from the desire of pleasing the Sovereign Author of Nature. The moment that is given us to know and admire Him, would it not still be a blessing? We celebrate the memory of those princes who have done good to men; are we not to do the same with Him to whom we are indebted for our existence; to Him who has contrived, if I may be allowed to say so, the various enjoyments we are so unwilling to detach ourselves from? Shall we dare, weak and ignorant as we are, to measure the wisdom, and calculate the power of our Benefactor, and rashly reproach him for not having done more for us? This would be the language of ingratitude. But, as I have shown, our sentiments have not been put to this test; and it is on more liberal terms that we have been admitted to treat with the Supreme Being: He has surrounded us with every thing that can encourage our expectations; He allows us, by contemplation, to attain almost a knowledge of his perfections; He lets us read them in that collection of glory and magnificence which the universe displays; He permits us to perceive his power and goodness, infinity and happiness; and by that succession of ideas he has guided our wishes and our hopes. How grand is the contemplation of the Eternal, they who have sensibility can tell! But this idea should be very early implanted in the human heart, it is necessary that it should be connected with our first feelings, that it should rise by degrees, in order to gain strength before men are thrown into the midst of that world which boasts of being freed from childish prejudices; left, hurried along by its levity, they follow every day a new master, and render themselves the slaves of pleasure and vanity.

And that which is to maintain, amongst men, the principles first inculcated, is public worship, an idea as beautiful as simple, and the most proper to vivify all that is vague and abstract in reasoning and instruction: public worship, in assembling men, and in turning them without public shame to their weaknesses, and in equalising every individual before the Master of the world, will be, in this point of view a grand lesson of morality; but this worship, besides, habitually reminds some of their duty, and is for others a constant source of consolation; in short, almost all men, astonished and overwhelmed by the ideas of grandeur and infinity, which the appearance of the universe, and the exercise of their own thoughts, present to them, aspire to find repose in the sentiment of adoration which unites them in a more intimate manner to God, than the developement of their reason ever will.

We should guard ourselves carefully from despising the emotions of piety, which cannot be separated from its advantages; and philosophers themselves know not how far they would go, when they try to reduce the interests of men to the narrow circle of demonstrated truths: that which we perceive confusedly, is more precious than all we have a certain knowledge of; that which we anticipate, is of more value than the blessings scattered round us. Thus, we should be miserably impoverished, if they could retrench from the various comforts which we shall never possess, but through the aid of the imagination. However, if we take this imagination as a guide and encouragement, when we are engaged in the pursuits of fortune and ambition, and if the wise themselves find that to be good which serves to nourish our passions, why would you reject it, when, simply more grand and more sublime in its object, it becomes the support of our weaknesses, the safeguard of our principles, and the source of our most interesting consolations?

It is the part of legislators to study these truths, and to direct towards them the spirit of laws, and the uncertain course of opinions. How honourable is it for them to be called to form the august alliance which is to unite happiness with morality, and morality with the existence of a God!

CHAP. XII.
_That there is a God._

That there is a God! How is it possible to avoid being penetrated with an awful respect in uttering these words? How reflect on them without the deepest humility, and even an emotion of surprise, that man, this weak creature, this atom dispersed in the immensity of space, undertakes to add some weight to a truth, of which all nature is the splendid witness? However, if this truth is our supreme good, if we are nothing without it, how can we banish it from our minds? Does it not constrain us to dwell continually on the subject? Compared with it, all other thoughts are insignificant and uninteresting; it gives birth to, and sustains all the sentiments on which the happiness of an intelligent creature depends. I confess I tremblingly discussed the different objections which are employed to destroy our confidence in the existence of a Supreme Being; I dreaded the melancholy which those arguments produced; I was afraid to feel the impression of it myself, and thus to hazard the opinion most dear to my heart, and most essential to my happiness; it appeared to me, that a few general ideas, supported by lively feelings, would have been sufficient for my tranquillity; and without an interest more extended, without the desire of opposing, according to my powers, a spirit of indifference and false philosophy, which is every day gaining ground, I should never have stepped beyond my circle. But, I am far from regretting the part I have taken: I have ran over, without much trouble, those books where the most pernicious doctrines are ingeniously disseminated; and have thought that a person, endowed with common sense, on whom metaphysical subtleties were obtruded, would resemble those savages who are brought sometimes amongst us, and who, from the depraved refinement of our morals and manners, have often recalled us, by some natural reflections, to those simple principles which we have abandoned, to those ancient truths whose vestiges are lost.

The whole structure of religion would be overturned, if, by the strength or artifices of reasoning, men could destroy our confidence in the existence of a Supreme Being: morality, being detached from the opinions which sustain it, would remain a wavering, unsupported notion, only defended by a policy, whose power time would insensibly weaken. A fatal languor invading every mind, where would be that universal interest, that sentiment felt by all men, and proper to form a general alliance between them? Then those, who, with pure intentions, can only be guided and sustained by an intimate persuasion, would retire sad, and leave to others the care of supporting moral order by fictions and falsehoods; they would pity that dismayed race, called to appear and pass away like flowers, which bloom but for a day; they would despise those animated phantoms which only come to make a buz with their vanity and trivial passions, and fall in a little while into eternal oblivion. All that appears beautiful in the universe, and excites our enthusiasm, would soon lose its splendour and enchantment, if we perceived nothing in this brilliant scene but the play of some atoms, and the uniform walk of blind necessity; for it is always because a thing may be otherwise, that it acquires a claim to our admiration: in short, that soul, that spirit, which vivifies man, that faculty of thought which surprises and confounds those who reflect, would only appear a vain movement, if nothing was before, or was to follow, if some unknown breath, or general intelligence, did not animate nature. But we have dwelt too long on those gloomy thoughts; reassume your light and life, admirable works of God; come and confound the pride of some, and comfort others; come and take possession of our souls, and direct our affections towards Him whom we ought to love, towards Him who is the eternal model of perfect wisdom, and unlimitted goodness!

I shall not endeavour to prove that there is a God, by reciting all the wonders the works of nature display to our eyes; several celebrated writers have already done it, and have missed their aim. Infinity can only be represented by astonishment and respect, which overwhelms all our thoughts: and when we labour to explain the successive and varied picture of the wonders of nature, this change of objects is more calculated to relax our admiration than to increase it; for any change eases our mind, by affording those relaxations which our weakness has need of; and if we were to investigate only one phœnomenon, we should soon discover the utmost extent of our faculties. We find the limits of our understanding in the examination of the organization of the smallest insect, as well as in observing the faculties of the soul; and the mysteries of the simplest vegetation is as far above the reach of our intelligence, as the principal agent of the universe.

It is then as a hymn of praise to the Supreme Being, and not as necessary instruction that I freely follow the course of my thoughts. I shall begin by throwing a rapid glance on the principal characters of wisdom and grandeur, which we are all equally struck with, when we contemplate the wonder of the universe.

What a sight is that of the world! What a magnificent picture for those who can be roused out of the state of indifference, in which habit has thrown them. We know not where to begin, or stop, when we expatiate on so many wonders; and the most noble of all is, the faculty which has been bestowed on us of admiring and conceiving them. What an astonishing and sublime relation is that of the innumerable beauties of nature, with the intelligence which permits us to enjoy, and to be made happy by them! What relation so surprising, as that of the order and harmony of the universe, with the moral intelligence which enables us to anticipate the enjoyments of wisdom and unclouded knowledge! Nature is immense, and all that it contains, all that it spreads with so much splendour, seems within the reach of our sensibility, or the powers of our mind; and these faculties, invisible and incomprehensible, unite to form, that wonder of wonders, which we call felicity. Let not these plain words turn our attention from the magical ideas which they represent. It is because the grand phœnomena of our existence cannot either be defined or expressed many ways, that they are so much more wonderful; and those words, used by common consent, soul, mind, sensation, life, happiness, and many others besides, which we pronounce so slightly, confound not less our understanding, when we wish to discuss the essence of the properties of which they are the sign. It is for this reason, among several others, that the admiration of particulars, in the works of nature, is always insufficient for those who have sensibility, as such admiration is necessarily placed between two ideas susceptible of being known; ideas which we connect through the aid of our own knowledge; but the charm of our relation with the wonders which surround us, arises from experiencing every instant the impression of an infinite grandeur; and feeling the necessity of flying to that mild refuge of ignorance and weakness, the sublime idea of a God. We are continually carried towards this idea by the vain efforts which we make, in order to penetrate the secrets of our own nature; and when I fix my attention on those astonishing mysteries, which seem to terminate, in some manner, the power of our thoughts, I represent them with emotion, as the only barrier which separates us from the infinite spirit, the source of all knowledge.

Men endowed with the greatest genius, perceive quickly the bounds of their faculties when they wish to go very far in the study of abstract metaphysical truths; but the simplest and least exercised mind, can distinguish the proofs of that order, which announces with so much splendour the end and design of sovereign wisdom. It seems, that all the knowledge proper to interest men has been placed within their reach. The learned astronomer, observing the course of our globe round the sun, perceives the cause of that regular succession of repose and vegetation, which secures the earth its fecundity, and adorns every season with renewed beauties; but the simple cultivator, who sees the treasurers of the earth renovated every year, and answer, with singular precision, to the wants of animated beings, is not less a witness of a phœnomenon which is sufficient to excite his admiration and gratitude! Newton analyzed light, and calculated the swiftness with which it runs over the immensity of space; but the ignorant herdsman, who sees, when he wakes, his hut enlightened by the same rays which animate all nature, is equally benefitted by them. The indefatigable anatomist attains a just idea of our inimitable structure, and the ingenious texture of our different organs; but the man most devoid of instruction, who reflects an instant on the pleasures, and the variety of the sensations, which we find ourselves susceptible of, partakes the blessing equally.

The transcendent knowledge of some people, is a degree of superiority which disappears when contrasted with the incomprehensible grandeur of nature; when we contemplate infinity, those talents which exalt one man above another are no more seen; and probably it is beyond the limits of our intelligence that the greatest wonders of nature begin. The knowledge of all ages has not explained what is the imperious authority of our will over our actions, nor how our thoughts could reach the most remote ages, how our souls could investigate that innumerable multitude of present objects, of recollections and anticipations; neither has it informed us how all those excellencies of the mind, sometimes remain unknown to itself, nor how they are sometimes at its command, issuing out of their long obscurity, and succeeding each other with method, or are profusely poured forth. At the sight of these astonishing phœnomena, we think man presumptuous, when, puffed up with pride, he mistakes the measure of his strength and wishes to penetrate into the secrets, whose confines are shut by an invisible hand. He should be content to know, that his existence is united to so many wonders; he should be satisfied with being the principal object of the liberality of nature, and he should adore with reverential respect that powerful Sovereign, who bestows so many blessings on him, and who has made him to sympathize with all the powers of heaven and earth.

The globe on which we live runs over every year a space of two hundred millions of leagues; and in this immense course, its distance from the sun, determined by immutable laws, is exactly proportioned to the degree of the temperature necessary to our feeble nature, and to the successive return of that precious vegetation, without which no animated being could subsist.

That celestial body, which fertilizes the seeds of life shut up in the bosom of the earth, is, at the same time, the source of that light which opens to our view the glorious sight of the universe. The rays of the sun run over in eight minutes about thirty millions of leagues: such an impetuous motion would be sufficient to pulverize the largest masses of matter; but, by an admirable combination, such is the incomprehensible tenuity of these rays, that they strike the most tender of our organs, not only without wounding it; but with a measure so delicate and precise, that they excite in us those extatic sensations, which are the origin and the indispensable condition of our greatest enjoyments.

Man, in immensity, is only an imperceptible point; and yet, by his senses and intelligence, he seems in communication with the whole universe; but how pleasant and peaceable is this communication! It is almost that of a prince with his subjects: all is animated round man, all relates to his desires and wants; the action of the elements, every thing on earth, like the rays of light, seems to be proportioned to his faculties and strength; and whilst the celestial bodies move with a rapidity which terrifies our imagination, and whilst they hurry along in their course our dwelling, we are tranquil in the bosom of an asylum, and under the protecting shelter allotted us; we enjoy there in peace a multitude of blessings, which, by another wonderful affinity, ally themselves to our taste, and all the sentiments we are endowed with.

In short, and it is another favour, man is permitted to be, in some things, the contriver of his own happiness, by his will and ingenuity; he has embellished his habitation, and united several ornaments to the simple beauties of nature; he has improved, by his care, the salutary plants; and even in those which seemed the most dangerous he has discovered some wholesome property, and carefully separated it from the envenomed parts which surrounded it; he can soften metals, and make them serve to augment his strength; he obliges the marble to obey him, and assume what form he desires; he gives laws to the elements, or circumscribes their empire; he stops the invasion of the sea; he restrains the rivers in their natural bed, and sometimes obliges them to take a different course, in order to spread their benign influence; he erects a shelter against the fury of the winds, and by an ingenious contrivance, makes use of that impetuous force, which he could not at first dream of defending himself from; even the fire, whose terrible action seems to presage destruction, he subjugates, and renders it, if I may so express myself, the confident of his industry, and the companion of his labours.

What a source of reflections is this dominion of the mind over the most dreadful effects of the movement of blind matter. It seems as if the Supreme Being, in submitting thus to the intelligence of men the most powerful elements, chose to give us an anticipation of the empire which His sovereign wisdom has over the universe.

However, it is in the influence of our spiritual faculties on themselves, that we observe, above all, their admirable nature; we see, with astonishment, the perfections which they acquire by their own action. Intelligence, considered in a general manner, undoubtedly is a great phœnomenon; but it is a still greater wonder, to see the thoughts of a man reach, by the most ingenious means, the knowledge of others, and form an alliance between the past and present productions of the mind. It is by such an alliance that the sciences have been improved, and that the mind of man has been acquainted with all its strength. The mighty of the earth cannot break this association, nor subject to their tyrannic divisions the noble heritage of knowledge; this gift, so precious, preserves the stamp of a divine hand;—and no one has yet been able to say it is mine.

The most noble use that has ever been made of the admirable union of so many talents, and so much knowledge, was to demonstrate how every thing in nature relates to the idea of a first cause; which forcibly announces a design full of wisdom, and a beneficent intention; but now, unhappily, these proofs of the existence of a God are not sufficient; imperious philosophers have laboured to subvert every thing founded on the connection and wonderful harmony of the system of nature; it is not sufficient to oppose to these new opinions the mere authority of final causes; they do not contest that there is a perfect conformity between our desires and wants, between our senses and the bounties of nature; they do not contest, from the cedar to the hyssop, from the insect to man, that there is a beauty of proportion in the whole, which is to be found equally in the relation that objects have with each other, as well as in their different parts; but this admirable harmony, in which the pious man, the man of feeling, perceives with delight the stamp of an eternal intelligence; others less fortunate, undoubtedly, obstinately present it to us as a fortuitous collision, as a play of atoms agitated by a blind movement, or as nature itself, existing thus from all eternity. What trouble they take to invent and defend these systems destructive of our happiness and hopes! I prefer my feelings to all this philosophy; but, to avoid an encounter would be to favour their presumption, and give additional strength to their opinions.

Thus I shall treat the most important question that man can consider. I shall endeavour first to show, that the different conjectures on the origin of the world all centre in the single opinion of the eternal and necessary existence of every thing which is; and I shall afterwards compare the basis of that system with the reason of that happy and simple belief which unites the idea of a Supreme Being with all we see and know; in short, to the universe, the most unlimitted of our conceptions.

CHAP. XIII.
_The same Subject continued._

When we see the authors of the different systems, concerning the formation of the world, reject the idea of a God, under the pretext, that this idea is foreign to the nature of our perceptions, should we not have a right to expect some better substitute for it? But, far from answering our expectations, they abandon themselves to all the wanderings of the most fantastic imagination. In fact, whether we refer the origin of the universe to the effect of hazard, the fortuitous concourse of atoms, or whether we establish another hypothesis derived from the same principle, it is necessary at least to suppose the eternal existence of an innumerable multitude of little particles of matter, placed without order in the immensity of space; and to suppose, afterwards, that these atoms, disseminated to infinity, attracted each other, and corresponded by the inherent properties of their nature; and that there resulted, from their adhesion, not only organized, but intelligent faculties; it is necessary, in short, to suppose, that all those incomprehensible atoms have been settled with admirable order through the effect of a blind motion, and by the result of some of the possible chances in the infinity of accidental combinations. Indeed, after so many suppositions without example or foundation, that of an Intelligent Being, soul and director of the universe, had been more analogous and more consonant with our knowledge.

Let us return to the hypothesis we have just mentioned. We shall then recognize the trifling habit of the mind; it is accustomed to proceed from simple to compound ideas, every time it meditates, invents, or executes: thus, by an inverse method, the composers of systems have thought, that, in order to connect the universe to its origin, it was sufficient to detach, by the exercise of thinking, all its parts, and to break and subdivide them afterwards to infinity; but whatever may be the tenuity of these atoms, their existence, having organized and intellectual properties, which we should be obliged to grant them, would be a wonder almost equal to those phœnomena which surround us.

When we see a plant grow, embellished with different colours, we only think of the period when its vegetation may be perceived by our senses; but the seed of this plant, or if you like better, the organized atoms, the first principle of this seed, would have offered also a grand subject of admiration, if we had been endowed with the faculties necessary to penetrate into the occult secrets of nature. But perhaps, in transforming into an imperceptible powder all the parts of matter, which have been collected to compose the world, we have only before our eyes a fugitive vapour, to which even our imagination cannot reach; and those who unfortunately love and defend this admiration, find besides, in the system of divisible atoms, means to defer, according to their fancy, the moment of their astonishment.

All these fantastic combinations serve only to lead us astray in our researches; and I do not think it a matter of indifference to make a general observation. The study of the first elements, of all the sciences which we acquire, such as geometry, languages, civil legislation, and several others, appear to us the simplest parts of our instruction. It is not the same, when we seek to know the laws of the physical world; for the works of nature never appear more simple than in their compounded state; they are then, to our mind, that which harmony is to the ear; it is the agreement of all parts which forms a union perfectly proportioned to our intelligence. Thus, man, for example, that wonderful alliance of so many different faculties, does not astonish our understanding, but appears to us in one point of view, a simple idea; but we are troubled, and, as it were, dismayed, when we try to analyze him, or mount to the elements of his liberty, will, thought, and all the other properties of his nature.

We only advance towards infinity, and consequently towards the most profound darkness, when we destroy the world in order to divide it into atoms, out of the midst of which we make it issue afresh, after having rallied all we have dispersed.

Let us admit, for a moment, that there exists organized and intelligent atoms, and that they are such, either by their nature, or by their adhesion to other atoms. We are now, of all these scattered atoms, to compose the universe, that master-piece of harmony, and perfect assemblage of every beauty and variety, that inexhaustible source of every sentiment of admiration; and in rejecting the idea of a God, creator and preserver, we must have recourse to the power of chance, that is to say, to the effects of an unknown continual motion, which, without any rule, produces, in a limited time, all the combinations imaginable; but, in order to effect an infinite variety of combinations, it is not only necessary to admit a continual motion, but besides, to suppose this continual motion changes its direction in all the parts of space subject to its influence. The existence of such a change, and a similar diversity in the laws of motion, is a new supposition which may be ranked with the other wild ones.

However, after these chimerical systems have been granted, we are not freed from the difficulties which the notion of the formation of the world by a fortuitous concourse of atoms produces.

It is difficult to comprehend how particles of matter, agitated in every manner, and susceptible, as has been supposed, of an infinity of different adhesions, should not have formed such a mixture, such a contexture, as would have rendered, the harmonious composition of the universe in all its parts, impossible.

When we represent to ourselves, abstractedly, the unlimmitted number of chances that may be attributed to a blind movement, the imagination, unable to conceive, is left to guess how an infinite number of atoms, endowed with a property of uniting themselves, under an infinite diversity of movements, could compose the heavenly bodies; but, as long before that period, when such an accidental throw would become probable; these same atoms might have formed an innumerable multitude of partial combinations; if one of these combinations had been incompatible with the harmony and composition of a world, that world could not have been formed.

The same considerations may be applied to animated beings: chance might have produced men susceptible of life, and the transmission of it, long before chance gave them all the faculties which they enjoy; and if they had been formed with only four senses, they could not have acquired a fifth; for the same reason that we do not see a new one spring up. Besides, the chance which might have produced living beings, must have always preceded the chance which afforded those beings every thing necessary for their subsistence and preservation.

It may indeed be supposed, that atoms assembled in a manner incompatible with the disposition of the universe, have been separated by the continuation of the motion introduced into the immensity of space; but this continual motion, sufficient to sever that which it has joined, would it not have destroyed that harmony which has been the result of one of the fortuitous chances to which the formation of the world has been attributed?

Will some object, that all the parts of matter, once united in the masses and proportions which constitute the heavenly bodies, have been maintained by the impression of a predominant force at the same time invariable? But how is it possible to reconcile the existence and dominion of such a force with that continual motion, which was requisite for the composition of the universe?