{"collection":"philosophy-ethics","full_text_available":true,"graph_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/api/page/gutenberg_76773/graph","html_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/page/gutenberg_76773","id":"gutenberg_76773","license":"Public Domain (US)","rights_basis":"gutenberg_metadata_copyright_false","source":"gutenberg","source_url":"https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/76773","summary":null,"tags":["Category: Essays, Letters & Speeches","Category: Philosophy & Ethics","Category: Politics","Category: Religion/Spirituality","Christianity -- Early works to 1800"],"text":"OF THE\n                               IMPORTANCE\n                                   OF\n                          RELIGIOUS OPINIONS.\n\n                       TRANSLATED FROM THE FRENCH\n\n                                   OF\n\n                              MR.  NECKER.\n\n\n                                LONDON:\n\n        PRINTED FOR J. JOHNSON, N^o 72, ST. PAUL\u2019S CHURCH-YARD.\n\n                            M.DCC.LXXXVIII.\n\n\n\n\n                             ADVERTISEMENT.\n\n\n_In rendering this Work into English some Liberties have been taken by\nthe Translator, which seemed necessary to preserve the Spirit of the\nOriginal._\n\n\n\n\n                               CONTENTS.\n\n\n                                CHAP. I.\n _On the Connection of Religious Principles with public Order_    Page 1\n\n\n                                CHAP. II.\n _The same Subject continued. A Parallel and of Laws and\n   Opinions_                                                          48\n\n\n                               CHAP. III.\n _An Objection drawn from our natural Dispositions to Goodness_       98\n\n\n                                CHAP. IV.\n _An Objection drawn from the good Conduct of many irreligious\n   Men_                                                              104\n\n\n                                CHAP. V.\n _The Influence of Religious Principles on our Happiness_            118\n\n\n                                CHAP. VI.\n _The same Subject continued. The Influence of Virtue on\n   Happiness_                                                        149\n\n\n                               CHAP. VII.\n _On Religious Opinions, in their Relation with Sovereigns_          169\n\n\n                               CHAP. VIII.\n _An Objection drawn from the Wars and from the Commotions which\n   Religion has given Rise to_                                       189\n\n\n                                CHAP. IX.\n _Another Objection examined. The Sabbath_                           196\n\n\n                                CHAP. X.\n _An Observation on a particular Circumstance of public Worship_     206\n\n\n                                CHAP. XI.\n _That the single Idea of a God is a sufficient Support of\n   Morality_                                                         210\n\n\n                               CHAP. XII.\n _That there is a God_                                               278\n\n\n                               CHAP. XIII.\n _The same Subject continued_                                        296\n\n\n                               CHAP. XIV.\n _The same Subject continued_                                        316\n\n\n                                CHAP. XV.\n _On the Respect that is due from true Philosophy to Religion_       382\n\n\n                               CHAP. XVI.\n _The same Subject continued. Reflections on Intolerance_            399\n\n\n                               CHAP. XVII.\n _Reflections on the Morality of the Christian Religion_             417\n\n\n                              CHAP. XVIII.\n _Conclusion_                                                        446\n\n\n\n\n                             INTRODUCTION.\n\n\nMy thoughts having been detached from the study and disquisition of\nthose truths which have the political good of the state for their\nobject; and being no longer obliged to fix any attention on those\nparticular arrangements of the public interest, which are necessarily\nconnected with the operations of government; I found myself abandoned,\nas it were, by all the important concerns of life. Restless and\nwandering in this kind of void, my soul, still active, felt the want of\nemployment. I sometimes formed the design of tracing my ideas of men and\ncharacters; I imagined that long experience in the midst of those active\nscenes which discover the passions, had taught me to know them well; but\nelevating my views, my heart was filled with a different ambition, and a\ndesire to reconcile the sublimest thoughts with those meditations from\nwhich I was constrained to withdraw myself. Guided by this sentiment, I\nremarked, with satisfaction, that there existed a natural connection\nbetween the different truths which contribute to the happiness of\nmankind. Our prejudices and our passions frequently attempt to disunite\nthem; but to the eye of an attentive observer, they have all one common\norigin. From a similar affinity, the general views of administration,\nthe spirit of laws, morality, and religious opinions, are closely\nconnected; and it is by carefully preserving an alliance so beautiful,\nthat we raise a rampart round those works, which are destined for the\nprosperity of states and the tranquillity of nations.\n\nOne could not have taken an active part in the administration of public\naffairs; or made it the object of stedfast attention; one could not have\ncompared the several relations of this great whole, with the natural\ndispositions of minds and characters; nor indeed observed men in a\nperpetual state of rivalry and competition, without perceiving, how much\nthe wisest governments need support from the influence of that invisible\nspring which acts in secret on the consciences of individuals. Thus\nwhilst I am endeavouring to form some reflections on the importance of\nreligious opinions, I am not so far removed from my former habit of\nthinking as may, at the first glance, be imagined; and as in writing on\nthe management of finances, I omitted no argument to prove that there is\nan intimate connexion between the efficacy of governments, and the\nwisdom with which they are conducted; between the virtue of princes, and\nthe confidence of their subjects, I think I am still proceeding in the\nsame train of sentiment and reflection, when struck with that spirit of\nindifference which is so general, I endeavour to refer the duties of men\nto those principles which afford them the most natural support.\n\nAfter having studied the interests of a great nation, and run over the\ncircle of our political societies, we approach nearer perhaps to those\nsublime ideas which bind the general structure of mankind to that\ninfinite and Almighty Being, who is the first grand cause of all, and\nuniversal mover of the universe. In the rapid course of an active\nadministration, indeed one cannot indulge similar reflections; but they\nare forming and preparing themselves in the midst of the tumult of\nbusiness, and the tranquillity of retirement enables us to strengthen\nand extend them.\n\nThe calm which succeeds hurry and confusion, seems the reason most\nfavourable to meditation; and if any remembrance, or retrospective views\nof what is past should inspire you with a kind of melancholy, you will\nbe involuntarily led back to contemplations which border on those ideas\nwith which you have been long conversant. It is thus the mariner, after\nhaving renounced the dangers of the sea, sometimes seats himself on the\nbeach, and there, a more tranquil observer, considers attentively the\nboundless ocean, the regular succession of the waves, the impression of\nthe winds, the flux and reflux of the tide, and that magnificent\nfirmament, where, during the night, among lights innumerable, he\ndistinguishes the lucid point, which serves as a guide to the\nnavigators.\n\nIt is in vain, in those high stations under government, to interest\nyourself about the happiness of mankind in general; it is in vain, that,\npenetrated with a just respect for the important duties of office, a\npublic character shall dare to take in hand the cause of the people, and\nincessantly apply himself to the defence of the weak, in opposition to\nthe attacks of the powerful; he soon perceives how bounded are his\nabilities, and how limited are those, even of sovereignty itself. Pity\nfor the distresses of the individual is checked by the law of civil\nrights; benevolence by justice; and liberty by its own abuses: you\nperpetually behold merit struggling with patronage, honour with fortune,\nand patriotism with the interest of the individual. There is no such\nthing as real disinterestedness in the passions, only by fits and\nstarts; unless great circumstances, or vigorous virtue in an\nadministration, forcibly renewed the idea of public good, a general\nlangour would take place in every mind, and society itself would appear\none confused mass of opposite interests, which the supreme authority\nkeeps within bounds for the maintenance of peace, without any inquietude\nabout real harmony, or any revolution favourable to the manners or\nhappiness of the public.\n\nFrom the midst of these clashings and contradictions, continually\nrecurring, a minister, possessed of a reflecting mind, is incessantly\ncalled back to the idea of imperfection; he will, undoubtedly, be sorry,\nwhen he sees the great disproportion which exists between his duty and\nhis powers; and he will sometimes grieve and be discouraged, at\nperceiving the obstacles he must surmount, and the difficulties he must\novercome: he raises, with labour and care, banks on the strand, the\nwaters swell, their course becomes more rapid, and the first precautions\nrendered insufficient, oblige him to have recourse to new works, which,\nthrown down in their turn, hurry on a continued succession of fruitless\ntoil and useless attempts. What then would be the consequence, if once\nthe salutary chain of religious sentiments were broken? What would be\nthe event, if the action of that powerful spring were ever entirely\ndestroyed? You would soon see every part of the social structure tremble\nfrom its foundation, and the hand of government unable to sustain the\nvast and tottering edifice.\n\nThe sovereign, and the laws which are the interpreters of his wisdom,\nshould have two grand objects, the maintenance of public order, and the\nincrease of private happiness. But to accomplish both, the aid of\nreligion is absolutely necessary. The sovereign cannot influence the\nhappiness of individuals, but by a general solicitude; because the\nsentiments which spring from the different characters of men, or merely\nfrom the circumstances of their respective situations, are independent\nof him. Neither can he ensure the preservation of public order, but by\nrules and institutions, which are only applicable to actions, and to\nthose actions positively proved. It is necessary also that the laws\nshould extend their influence to society in a uniform manner; they\nshould always have a tendency to diminish the number of distinctions,\nshades, and modifications, that are to be found in the actions of men;\nin short, to prevent those abuses inseparably attendant on arbitrary\ndecisions.\n\nSuch are the bounds of sovereign authority, and such the necessary\ndevelopement of its means and powers. Religion, to attain the same ends,\nemploys other motives essentially different: first, it is not in a vague\nand general manner, that she influences the happiness of mankind; it is\nby addressing all men individually; by penetrating the heart of every\nhuman being, and pouring into it consolation and hope; by presenting to\nthe imagination every thing that can insensibly lead it captive; by\ntaking possession of men\u2019s sentiments; by occupying their thoughts; and\nby availing herself of this dominion over them, to sustain their\ncourage, and to afford them comfort under their afflictions and\ndisappointments. In this manner religion concurs to maintain good order,\nby means absolutely distinct from those of government; for she not only\ngoverns our actions, but even our sentiments: it is with the errors and\ninclinations of each man in particular, that she seeks to combat.\nReligion, in demonstrating the presence of the Deity, on all occasions,\nhowever secret, exercises an habitual authority over the consciences of\nmen; she seems to assist them under the perturbations of fear, and yet\nattends them in their flight; she equally notices their intentions,\nprojects, and repentance; and in the method which she takes, seems as\nundulating and flexible in all her motions, as the empire of the law\nappears immoveable and constrained.\n\nI should not, at present, extend these reflections any further; but, if\nreligion, in some measure, completes the imperfect work of legislation;\nif it ought to supply the insufficiency of those means which government\nis under the necessity of adopting, the subject I propose to treat of\nseems not foreign to those objects of meditation, which the study of\nadministration ought to comprehend.\n\nI well know, that it is impossible to explain the importance of\nreligion, without, at the same time, fixing the attention on the grand\ntruths on which it depends; and you must also frequently touch on many\nsubjects that are closely connected with the deepest metaphysics. We\nare, at least, obliged to seek for a defence against those arguments\nwhich sap the foundation of the most necessary opinions; by which the\nmost impassioned sentiments have been discouraged; by which some would\nreduce man to a vegetable, make the universe the result of chance, and\nmorality a state trick.\n\nAs soon as I discovered how far my subject was likely to lead me, I felt\nmyself intimidated; but I could not allow this to be a sufficient reason\nfor relinquishing my undertaking; and since the greater part of the\nphilosophers of the present age are united in opposition to those\nopinions, which the light of nature seems to have rendered sacred, it is\nbecome indispensably necessary, to admit to the combat all that offer;\nnay, even to select a champion from the main body of the army, when all\nthe strong ones are already gone over to the camp of the enemy.\n\nThere is nothing which seems to engross the attention of mankind more\nthan metaphysical enquiries, for it is by thinking alone they can be\nfathomed; the light gained by acquired knowledge is, in some measure,\nlost in those obscure depths which it is necessary to sound, and that\nimmense space which it is necessary to traverse. Thus, it were better,\nperhaps, that each should enter by chance into these labyrinths, where\nthe paths, already traced, lead to no one determined point. I have,\nbesides, often observed, that, even for those researches, where the\nhelps of science are most useful, we ought to set a certain value on the\nparticular excursion of each genius, which seeks out for itself a way,\nand which, indebted to nature alone for its peculiar formation,\npreserves in its progress a character of its own; it is then, and then\nonly, that we are not invested with the distinguishing marks of\nslavishness of thinking; but when, by devoting ourselves to reflection,\nwe coincide with the opinions of others, this conformity has nothing of\nservility in it, and the marks of imitation are not even recognized.\n\nIn vain would man resist the impression of truth; in vain would he\ndefend himself by a ridiculous indifference for ancient opinions; there\nnever could be an idea more worthy to occupy our meditations, there\nnever could be an idea, on which we might be more fully permitted to\nexpatiate, according to our knowledge and penetration, than that sublime\none of a Supreme Being, and the relation we bear to him: an idea, which\nthough far removed from us by its immensity, every moment strikes the\nsoul with admiration, and inspires the heart with hope.\n\nIt appears to me, that there are interests which may be considered as\npatriotic by intelligent and feeling beings; and while the inhabitants\nof the same country, and the subjects of the same prince, employ\nthemselves diligently in one common plan of defence, the citizens of the\nworld ought to be incessantly anxious to give every new and possible\nsupport to those exalted opinions on which the true greatness of their\nexistence is founded, which preserves the imagination from that\nfrightful spectacle of an existence without origin, of action without\nliberty, and futurity without hope. Thus after having, as I think,\nproved myself a citizen of France, by my administration, as well as my\nwritings, I wish to unite myself to a fraternity still more\nextended\u2014that of the whole human race: it is thus, without dispersing\nour sentiments, we may be able nevertheless to communicate ourselves a\ngreat way off, and enlarge in some measure the limits of our circle:\nglory be to our thinking faculties for it! To that spiritual portion of\nourselves which can take in the past, dart into futurity, and intimately\nassociate itself with the destiny of men of all countries, and of all\nages. Without doubt, a veil is thrown over the greater part of those\ntruths, to which our curiosity would willingly attain; but those which a\nbeneficent God has permitted us to see, are amply sufficient for our\nguide and instruction; and we cannot, for a continuance divert our\nattention without a species of slothful negligence, and a total\nindifference to the superior interests of man. How little is every thing\nindeed, when put in competition with those meditations, which give to\nour existence a new extent, and which, in detaching us from the dust of\nthe earth, seem to unite our souls to an infinity of space, and our\nduration of a day to the eternity of time! Above all, it is for you to\ndetermine, who have sensibility\u2014who feel the want of a Supreme Being,\nand who seek to find in him that support so necessary to your weakness,\nthat defender and that assurance, without which painful inquietude will\nbe perpetually tormenting you, and troubling those soft, tender\naffections which constitute your happiness.\n\nHowever, I must say, there never perhaps was a period, when it was more\nessentially necessary to recal to the minds of men, the importance of\nreligious sentiments; at present they are but prejudices, if we may\ncredit the spirit of licentiousness and levity; the laws dictated by\nfashion; and more particularly essential since we have had philosophical\ninstructions, which excite the various deviations of vanity, and rally\nthe wanderings of the imagination.\n\nThere is not any form of religion, undoubtedly, to which ideas more or\nless mystical have not been annexed; and of which the evidence has not\nbeen in proportion to the dictatorial language, and authoritative tone,\nwhich has been made use of in teaching and defending it; as such, one\nmight at any given period have been tempted to dispute about particular\nparts of worship, which different nations have adopted; but it is\nprincipally in the present age, that a certain class of men has sprung\nup, distinguished for their wit and talents; and who, intoxicated by the\nfacility with which they have gained a victory, have extended their\nambition, and had the daring courage to attack the reserved body of that\narmy of which the front ranks had already given way.\n\nThis struggle between persons, one of whom would imperiously rule by\nfaith alone, whilst the other thinks he has a right to reject with\ndisdain every thing that has not been demonstrated, will always be a\nfruitless combat; and only serve to nourish blind aversion and unjust\ncontempt. Some seek to wound their adversaries, others to humble them;\nin the mean time the good of mankind, and the true benefit of society,\nare absolutely lost sight of; yes, the real love of useful truths, the\nimpartial search after them, and the desire of pointing them out, these\nsentiments, so amiable and so truly laudable, seem to be entirely\nunknown. I see, permit me to say it, I see at the two extremities of the\narena, the savage inquisitor, and the inconsiderate philosopher; but\nneither the faggots lighted by the one, nor the derisions of the other,\nwill ever diffuse any salutary instruction; and in the eyes of a\nrational man, the intolerance of monks adds no more to the dominion of\ntrue religious sentiments, than the jests of a few licentious wits have\neffected a triumph in favour of philosophy.\n\nIt is between these opposite opinions, and in the midst of wanderings\nequally dangerous, that we must attempt to mark out our way; but as all\nthe opinions of men are subject to change; at present, when their minds\nare more averse to the maxims of intolerance, it is religion itself that\nprincipally needs support; and such is the daily diminution of it, that\nmeans supplying the deficiency seem to be already publicly preparing.\nFor some time past we have heard of nothing but the necessity of\ncomposing a moral catechism, in which religious principles should not be\nintroduced, as resources that are now out of date, and when it is time\nthey were discarded. Without doubt these principles might be more\neffectually attacked, could they ever be represented as totally useless\nfor the maintenance of public order; and if the cold lessons of a\npolitical philosophy could be substituted for those sublime ideas,\nwhich, by the spiritual tie of religion, binds the heart and mind to the\npurest morality. Let us now examine if we should gain any thing by the\nexchange; let us see, if the means they propose to employ can be put in\ncompetition with those which ought to be made use of; and, if they are\nmore solid, and more efficacious; let us see, if this new doctrine,\nwhich is recommended, will produce in the soul the same degree of\nconsolation; if it is calculated for those hearts which are possessed of\nsensibility; and, above all, let us attentively consider, if it can be\nsuitable to the measure of intelligence, and the social situation of the\ngreater part of mankind. In short, in considering the various questions,\nwhich in any manner, relate to the important subject we have undertaken\nto treat, let us not be afraid to resist, as well as we can, the foolish\nambition of those, who, availing themselves of the superiority of their\nunderstanding, wish to deprive man of his dignity, to place him on a\nlevel with the dust under his feet, and make his foresight a\npunishment:\u2014melancholy and deplorable destiny! from which, however, we\nare permitted to seek to defend ourselves; cruel and disastrous opinion!\nwhich tears up by the roots every thing which surrounds it, which\nrelaxes the most necessary bands, and, in an instant, destroys the most\ndelightful charm of life.\n\nO thou God unknown!\u2014\u2014but whose beneficent idea has ever filled my soul,\nif thou ever throwest a look on those efforts which man makes to\napproach thee, sustain my resolution, enlighten my understanding, raise\nmy thoughts, and reject not the desire I have to unite still more, if\npossible, the order and happiness of society, with the intimate and\nperfect conception of thy divinity, and the lively idea of thy sublime\nexistence.\n\n\n\n\n                                 OF THE\n\n                               IMPORTANCE\n\n                                   OF\n\n                          RELIGIOUS OPINIONS.\n\n\n\n\n                                CHAP. I.\n     _On the Connection of Religious Principles with public Order._\n\n\nWe know not distinctly the origin of most political societies; but as\nsoon as history exhibits men united in a national body, we perceive, at\nthe same time, the establishment of public worship, and the application\nof religious sentiments, to the maintenance of good order and\nsubordination. Religious sentiments, by the sanction of an oath, bind\nthe people to the magistrates, and the magistrates to their engagements;\nthey inspire a reverential respect for the obligations contracted\nbetween sovereigns; and these sentiments, still more authoritative than\ndiscipline, attach the soldier to his commander; in short, religious\nopinions, by their influence on the manners of individuals, have\nproduced an infinite number of illustrious actions and instances of\nheroical disinterestedness, of which history has transmitted us the\nremembrance. But as we have seen a philosophy spring up among nations\nthe most enlightened, anxiously employed in depriving religion of all\nthat merited respect, dissertations on times far removed from us, and\nthe various systems that they would endeavour violently to associate\nwith religion, would become an endless source of controversy. It is\nthen, by reasoning alone, by that exercise of the mind, which belongs\nequally to all countries and all ages, that we can support the cause\nwhich we have taken in hand to defend. There is, perhaps, something weak\nand servile in our wishing to draw assistance from ancient opinions;\nreason ought not, like vanity, to adorn herself with old parchments, and\nthe display of a genealogical tree; more dignified in her proceeding,\nand proud of her immortal nature, she ought to derive every thing from\nherself; she should disregard past times, and be, if I may use the\nphrase, the contemporary of all ages.\n\nIt was reserved, particularly for some writers of our age, to attack\neven the utility of religion; and to seek to substitute, instead of its\nactive influence, the inanimate instruction of a political philosophy.\nReligion, say they, is a scaffold fallen into ruins, and it is high time\nto give to morality a more solid support. But what support will that be?\nwe must, in order to discover, and form a just idea of it; distinctly\nconsider the different motives of action on which depend the relations\nthat subsist between men; and it will be necessary to estimate,\nafterwards, the kind and degree of assistance which we may reasonably\nexpect from a like support.\n\nIt appears to me, that in renouncing the efficacious aid of religion, we\nmay easily form an idea of the means that they will endeavour to make\nuse of to attach men to the observance of the rules of morality, and to\nrestrain the dangerous excesses of their passions. They would,\nundoubtedly, place a proper value on the connection which subsists\nbetween private and general interest; they would avail themselves of the\nauthority of laws, and the fear of punishment; and they would confide\nstill more in the ascendency of public opinion, and the ambition, that\nevery one ought to have, of gaining the esteem and confidence of his\nfellow-creatures.\n\nLet us examine separately these different motives; and first,\nattentively considering the union of private with public interest, let\nus see if this union is real, and if we can deduce from such a principle\nany moral instruction truly efficacious.\n\nSociety is very far from being a perfect work; we ought not to consider\nas an harmonious composition the different relations of which we are\nwitnesses, and particularly the habitual contrast of power and weakness,\nof slavery and authority, riches and poverty, of luxury and misery; so\nmuch inequality; such a motly piece could not form an edifice\nrespectable for the justness of its proportions.\n\nCivil and political order is not then excellent by its nature, and we\ncannot perceive its agreement, till we have deeply studied, and formed\nto ourselves those reflections which legislators had to make, and the\ndifficulties that they had to surmount. It is then only, with the\nassistance of the most attentive meditation, that we discover how those\nparticular relations, which are established by social laws, form,\nnevertheless, that system of equilibrium, which is most proper to bind\ntogether an immense diversity of interests; but a great obstacle to the\ninfluence of political morality is, the necessity of giving, for the\nbasis of the love of order, an abstract and complicated idea. What\neffect on vulgar minds would the scientific harmony of the whole have,\nopposed daily to the sentiment of injustice and inequality, which arises\nfrom the aspect of every part of the social constitution, when we\nacquire the knowledge of it, in a manner solitary and circumscribed; and\nhow limited is the number of those, who can continually draw together\nall the scattered links of this vast chain!\n\nIt could not be avoided, in the best regulated societies, that some\nshould enjoy, without labour or difficulty, all the conveniencies of\nlife; and that others, and far the greater number, should be obliged to\nearn, by the sweat of their brow, a subsistence the most scanty, and a\nrecompense the most confined. It is not to be prevented, that some will\nfind, when oppressed by sickness, all the assistance which officious\ntenderness and skill can afford; whilst others are reduced to partake,\nin public hospitals, the bare relief that humanity has provided for the\nindigent. We cannot prevent some from being in a situation to lavish on\ntheir families all the advantages of a complete education; whilst\nothers, impatient to free themselves from a charge so heavy, are\nconstrained to watch eagerly for the first appearance of natural\nstrength, to make their children apply to some profitable labour. In\nshort, we cannot avoid perpetually contrasting the splendour of\nmagnificence with the tatters which misery displays. Such are the\neffects, inseparable from the laws, respecting property. These are\ntruths, the principles of which I have had occasion to discuss in the\nwork which I composed on administration and political \u0153conomy; but I\nought to repeat them here, since they are found closely connected with\nother general views. The eminent power of property is one of the social\ninstitutions, the influence of which has the greatest extent; this\nconsideration was applicable to the commerce of grain; it ought to be\npresent to the mind, in disquisitions on the duties of administration;\nand it is still more important, when the question is to be examined,\nwhat kind of moral instruction may be proper for mankind?\n\nIn effect, if it appertains to the essence of the laws of right,\nconstantly to introduce and maintain an immense disparity in the\ndistribution of property; were it an essential part of these laws, to\nreduce the most numerous class of citizens, to that which is simply the\nmost necessary; the inevitable result of such a constitution would be,\nto nourish, amongst men, a sentiment of habitual envy and jealousy.\nVainly would you demonstrate, that these laws are the only ones capable\nof exciting labour, animating industry, preventing disorder, and\nopposing obstacles to arbitrary acts of authority; all these\nconsiderations sufficient, we grant, to fix the opinion and the will of\nthe legislator, would not strike in the same manner the man thrown on\nthe earth, without property, without resources, and without hopes; and\nhe will never render free homage to the beauty of the whole, when there\nis nothing for him but deformity, abjectness, and contempt.\n\nMen, in most of their political reasonings, are deceived by resemblances\nand analogies: the interest of society is certainly composed of the\ninterests of all its members; but it does not follow from this\nexplication, that there is an immediate and constant correspondence\nbetween the general and private interest; such an approximation, could\nonly be applicable to an imaginary social state; and which we might\nrepresent as divided into many parts, of which the rich would be the\nhead, and the poor the feet and hands: but political society is not one\nand the same body, except under certain relations, whilst, relatively to\nother interests, it partakes in as many ramifications of them as there\nare individuals.\n\nThose considerations, to which we annex an idea of general interest,\nwould be very often susceptible of numberless observations; but the\nprinciples, we are accustomed to receive and transmit, in their most\ncommon acceptation; and we discover not the mixt ideas which compose\nthem, but at the moment when we analyze the principles, in order to draw\nconsequences from them, in like manner as we perceive not the variety of\ncolours in a ray of light, till the moment we divide them by means of a\nprism.\n\nThe formation of social laws, with reason, ought to appear one of our\nmost admirable conceptions; but this system is not so united in all its\nparts, that a striking disorder would always be the necessary effect of\nsome irregular movement: thus the man, who violates the laws, does not\nquickly discover the relation of his actions with the interest of\nsociety; but at the instant enjoys, or thinks to joy, the fruit of his\nusurpations.\n\nShould a theatre be on fire, it is certainly the interest of the\nassembly that every one go out with order; but if the people, most\ndistant from the entrance, believed they should be able to escape sooner\nfrom the danger, by forcing their way through the crowd which surrounds\nthem, they would assuredly determine on this violence, unless a coercive\npower prevented them; yet the common utility of restricting ourselves to\norder in such circumstances, would appear an idea more simple, and more\ndistinct, than is the universal importance of maintaining civil order in\nsociety.\n\nThe only natural defence of this order, is government; its function\nobliges it ever to consider the whole; but the need which it has of\npower to carry its decrees into execution, proves evidently, that it is\nthe adversary of many, even when acting in the name of all.\n\nWe are then under a great illusion, if we hope to be able to found\nmorality on the connection of private interest with that of the public;\nand if we imagine, that the empire of social laws can be separated from\nthe support of religion. The authority of these laws has nothing\ndecisive for those who have not assisted to establish them; and were we\nto give to the hereditary distinctions of property an origin the most\nremote, it is no less true, on this account that the poor succeeding\ninhabitants of the earth, struck with the unequal division of its rich\ndomains, and not perceiving the limits and lines of separation traced by\nnature, would have some right to say; these compacts, these partitions,\nthis diversity of lots, which procures to some abundance and repose; to\nothers, poverty and labour; all this legislation, in short, is only\nadvantageous to a small number of privileged men; and we will not\nsubscribe to it, unless compelled by the fear of personal danger. What\nare then, they would add, these ideas of right and wrong, with which we\nare entertained? What are these dissertations on the necessity of\nadopting some order in society, and of observing rules? Our mind bends\nnot to those principles, which, general in theory, become particular in\npractice. We find some satisfaction and compensation, when the idea of\nvirtue, of submission, and of sacrifice, are united to religious\nsentiments; when we believe we shall render an account of our actions to\na Supreme Being, whose laws and will we adore, and from whom we have\nreceived every thing, and whose approbation presents itself to our eyes,\nas a motive of emulation, and an object of recompense: but if the\ncontracted bounds of life limit the narrow circle in which all our\ninterest ought to confine itself, where all our speculations and our\nhopes terminate, what respect owe we then to those whom nature has\nformed our equals? To those men sprung from lifeless clay, to return to\nit again with us, and to be lost for ever in the same dust? They have\nonly invented these laws of justice, to be more tranquil usurpers. Let\nthem descend from their exalted rank, that they may be put on our level,\nor, at least, present us with a partition less unequal, and we shall\nthen be able to conceive, that the observance of the laws of right is of\nimportance to us; till then, we shall have just motives for being the\nenemies of civil order, which we find so disadvantageous; and we do not\ncomprehend how, in the midst of so many gratifications which excite our\nenvy, it is, in the name of our own interest, that we ought to renounce\nthem.\n\nSuch is the secret language which men, overwhelmed with the distress of\ntheir situation, would not fail to use; or those who, merely in a state\nof habitual inferiority, found themselves continually hurt by the\nsplendid sight of luxury and magnificence.\n\nIt would not be an easy task to combat these sentiments, by endeavouring\nto paint forcibly the vanity of pleasure in general, and the illusion of\nmost of those objects which captivate our ambition, and the apathy which\nfollows in their train. These reflections, without doubt, have their\nweight and efficacy; but if we attentively consider the subject, every\nthing that deserves the name of consolation in this world, cannot be\naddressed with any advantage; but to minds prepared for mild sentiments,\nby an idea of religion and of piety, more or less distinct; we cannot,\nin the same manner, relieve the barren and ferocious despondency of an\nunhappy and envious man, who has thrown far behind him all hope.\nConcentred in the bare interests of a life, which is for him eternity,\nand the universe itself; it is the passion of the moment which enslaves\nhim, and nothing can disengage him from it; he has not the means to\ncatch any vague idea, nor of being content; and as even reason has need,\nevery instant, of the aid of the imagination, he cannot be encouraged,\neither by the discourse of his friends, or his own reflections.\n\nBesides, if we can maintain, in general, that the allotments of\nhappiness and misery are more equal than we imagine; if we can\nreasonably advance, that labour is preferable to idleness; if we can\nsay, with truth, that embarrassments and inquietudes often accompany\nwealth, and that contentment of mind appears to be the portion of the\nmiddle state of life; we ought to acknowledge, at the same time, that\nthese axioms are only perfectly just in the eyes of the moralist, who\nconsiders man in a comprehensive point of view, and who makes his\ncalculation upon a whole life: but, in the recurrence of our daily\ndesires and hopes, it is impossible to excite to labour by the\nexpectation of fortune, and detract, at the same time, this fortune, in\ndecrying the pleasures and conveniences that it procures. These subtle\nideas, without excepting those which may be defended, can never be\napplicable to real circumstances; and if we sometimes use with success\nsuch kind of reflections to alleviate unavailing sorrow and regret, it\nis when we have only shadows to cope with.\n\nIn short, when we have reduced to precept, all the well known\nreflections, on the apparent, but delusive advantages of rank and\nfortune, we cannot prevent uncultivated minds from being continually\nstruck with the extreme inequality of the different contracts which the\nrich make with the poor; it might be said, in those moments, that one\nportion of mankind was formed only for the convenience of another; the\npoor man sacrifices his time and his strength to multiply round the rich\ngratifications of every kind; and he, when he gives in exchange the most\nscanty subsistence, does not deprive himself of any thing; since the\nextent of his physical wants is bounded by the laws of nature: equality\nthen is only re-established by the lassitude and apathy which the\nenjoyment even of pleasure produces. But these disgusts compose the back\nground in the picture of life; the people perceive them not; and as they\nhave only been acquainted with want, they cannot form any idea of the\nlangour attendant on satiety.\n\nWill any one imprudently say, that if the distinctions of property are\nan obstacle to the establishment of a political system of morality, we\nought, therefore, to labour to destroy them? But if in past ages, when\nthe different degrees of talents and knowledge were not so unequal, men\nwere not able to preserve a community of possessions, can you imagine,\nthat these primitive relations could be re-established at a time when\nthe superiority of rank and power is enforced by the immoveable strength\nof disciplined armies?\n\nBesides, when even in the composition of an ideal world, we should have\nintroduced the most exact division of the various possessions esteemed\nby men, it would still be necessary, to preserve a system of real\nequality, that every one should execute faithfully the duties imposed on\nhim by universal morality; since this is incumbent on every individual,\nfor the sacrifice that all the members of society have made; which\nsociety ought to recompense every citizen in particular, for the\nrestriction to which he submits himself.\n\nIt is essential to observe still further, that it is not only personal\ninterest, when clearly understood, which ought to be annexed to the idea\nof public order; it is the same interest when led astray by the\npassions, then a mere guide is no longer sufficient; a yoke must be\nimposed; a check always acting, which must be used absolutely. Nothing\ncan be more chimerical than to pretend to restrain a man, hurried on by\nan impetuous imagination, by endeavouring to recal to his remembrance\nsome principles and instructions, which, in the terms of an academic\nthesis[1], ought to be the _result of analysis, of methodizing, of the\nart of dividing, of developing, and circumscribing ideas_.\n\nIt would be, at present, a hardy enterprize, to attempt to conduct men\nby reason alone, since the first thing that reason discovers is its own\nweakness; but when we want to rest on maxims which admit of controversy;\nwhen we wish to oppose to the strong motive of personal interest, a\nmoral consideration which cannot act but with the concurrence of\nprofound reflection; we recollect the doctrine of the first \u0153conomists,\nwho, in establishing the extravagant principles respecting an exclusive\nright of exporting or monopolizing grain, put off the care of preventing\npopular commotions till they should happen.\n\nIt appears to me, that false reasoning, on the union of private with\npublic interest, arises from applying to the present state of society,\nthe principles which have served as the base for their formation; this\nvery natural confusion is one grand source of error. Let us try to\nrender clear a proposition, which, at first, appears difficult to\ncomprehend; and in this light we will suppose, for a moment the future\ngeneration assembled in idea, in an imaginary world, and ignorant before\nthey inhabit the earth, who those individuals are that shall be born of\nparents loaded with the gifts of fortune, and those who are beset with\nmisery from their cradle. They are instructed in the principles of civil\nrights, and the convenience of the laws of order, has been represented\nto them, and a sketch is drawn of the disorder, which would be the\ninevitable consequence of a continual variation in the division of\nproperty; then all those who are to compose the new generation, equally\nuncertain of the lot that the chance of birth reserves for them,\nsubscribe unanimously to those events which await them; and at the very\nmoment in which the relations of society exist only in speculation, it\nmight be truly said, that the personal interest is lost in the public;\nbut this identity ceases, when each, arrived on the earth, has taken\npossession of his lot; it is then no longer possible, that the various\npersonal interests should concur to the maintenance of these prodigious\ngradations of rank and fortune, which are derived from the chance of\nbirth; and those to whom cares and wants have fallen, will not be\nresigned to the inferiority of their condition, but by a grand religious\nprinciple alone, which can make them perceive an eternal justice, and\nplace them in imagination before time, and before the laws.\n\nThere is nothing so easy, as the establishment of conventions, and\nmaking rules to be observed, till the moment of the drawing of a\nlottery; every one then, at the same point of view, finds all good, all\njust, and well contrived, and peace reigns by common agreement; but as\nsoon as the blanks and prizes are known, the mind changes, the temper\ngrows sour; and without the check of authority, it would become\nunmanageable, envious, quarrelsome, and sometimes unjust and violent.\n\nWe see, however, the consequence to be drawn from the preceding\nreflections; that political societies in contemplation, and in reality,\npresent to our observation two different periods; and as these periods\nare not separated by any apparent limits, they are almost always\nconfounded in the mind of the political moralist. He who believes in the\nunion of private interest with that of the public, and who celebrates\nthis harmony, has only considered society in its general and primitive\nplan; he who thinks, on the contrary, that the whole is wrong and\ndiscordant, because there is a great difference of power and fortune,\nhas considered it only under its actual vicissitudes. Both these\nmistakes have received a sanction from celebrated writers. The man\nhurried away by a lively imagination, and strongly impressed by present\nobjects, has been struck by the inequality of conditions; and the\nphilosopher, who, transported by his abstractions beyond the circle of\nhuman society, has only perceived those relations and principles which\nled men to form the first institution of civil laws. Thus, every where\nwe see, that most disputes relate to mere difference of positions, and\nto the various points of view in which the same subject is considered;\nthere are so many stations in the moral world, that, according to that\nwhich we choose, the picture changes entirely.\n\nHitherto we have endeavoured to understand the effect which we might\nexpect from a system of morality, by applying this kind of instruction\nonly to private interest, when most clearly ascertained. It remains now\nto show, that every species of education, which demands time and\nreflection, cannot belong, in any manner, to the class of men most\nnumerous; and to be sensible of this truth, it is sufficient to turn our\nattention on the social state of those who are destitute of property,\nand talents which might supply its place; obliged to have recourse to\nhard labour, where nothing is required but to employ their bodily\nstrength, their concurrence, and the power of riches reduce the wages of\nthis numerous class to what is absolutely necessary; they cannot without\ndifficulty support their children, and they may well be impatient of\nqualifying them for useful occupations to relieve themselves; and this\nprevents their being sent to public schools, except during their\ninfancy: thus, ignorance and poverty are in the midst of our societies,\nand the hereditary lot of the greater part of the citizens; there is\nonly to be found an alleviation of this general law, in those countries\nwhere the constitution of the government encourages the high price of\nlabour, and gives the poor some means of resisting the despotism of\nfortune. However, if such is the inevitable effect of our civil and\npolitical legislation, how shall we be able to bind men without\ndistinction, to the maintenance of public order, by any instruction, I\ndo not say complicated, but to which the exercise of long reasoning\nforms only a necessary introduction? It would not be sufficient to endow\ninstitutions; it would be still more necessary to pay the scholars for\ntheir time; since, for the lower class, time is, even very early in\nlife, their only means of subsistence.\n\nNevertheless, morality is not, like other human sciences, a knowledge,\nthat we may be at liberty to acquire at our leisure; the quickest\ninstruction is still too slow, since man has a natural power of doing\nevil before his mind is in a state to apply to reflection, and connect\nthe most simple ideas.\n\nIt is not then a political catechism which would be proper for the\ninstruction of the people; it is not a course of precepts founded on the\nunion of public and private interest, which can suit with the measure of\ntheir understanding; when a doctrine of that kind would appear as just\nas it seems to me liable to be disputed, they will never be able to\nrender the principles of it distinct enough, to apply them to the\npurposes of instructing those whose education continues for so short a\ntime. Morality, founded on religion, by its active influence, is\nprecisely adapted to the particular situation of the greater number of\nmen; and this agreement is so perfect, that it seems one of the\nremarkable features of universal harmony. Religion alone has power to\npersuade with celerity, because it excites passion, whilst it informs\nthe understanding, because it alone has the means of rendering obvious\nwhat it recommends; because it speaks in the name of God, and it is easy\nto inspire respect for him, whose power is every where evident to the\neyes of the simple and skilful, to the eyes of children, and men\nadvanced to maturity.\n\nIn order to attack this truth, let it not be said, that the idea of a\nGod is of all others the most incomprehensible; and if it is possible to\nderive useful instruction from so metaphysical a principle, we ought to\nexpect more good from precepts which depend on the common relations of\nlife. Such an objection is a mere subtilty; the distinct knowledge of\nthe essence of a God, the creator of the world, is, undoubtedly above\nthe comprehension of men of every age, and all faculties; but it is not\nthe same with the vague idea of a heavenly power, who punishes and who\nrewards; parental authority, and the helplessness of infancy, prepare us\nearly for ideas of obedience and command; and the world is such a\nstupendous wonder, a theatre of such continual prodigies, that it is\neasy to annex, at an early period, hope and fear to the idea of a\nSupreme Being. Thus, the infinity of a God, creator and director of the\nuniverse, is so far from having power to divert our respect and\nadoration, that even the clouds with which he invelopes himself, lend a\nnew force to religious sentiments. A man often remains uninterested\namidst: the discoveries of his reason; but it is always easy to move\nhim, whenever we address ourselves to his imagination; for this faculty\nof our mind excites us continually to action, by presenting to our eyes\na great space, and by keeping us always at a certain distance from the\nobject we have in view. Man is so disposed to wonder at a power, of\nwhich he is ignorant of the springs; this sentiment is so natural to\nhim, that what we ought to guard against the most in his education, is\nthe inconsiderate insinuation of various terrors, of which he is\nsusceptible. Thus, not only the true idea of the existence of an\nAll-powerful God, but mere credulous faith in superstitious opinions,\nwill always have more power over the common class of men, than abstract\nprecepts, or general considerations. I know not even, if it might not be\nsaid, with truth, that the future of this short life, when we\ncontemplate it, is further from us than the distant perspective offered\nto the mind by religion; because our imagination is less restrained, and\nthe minutest description of reason can never equal in power, the lively\nand impulsive ardour of the affections of our souls.\n\nI resume the series of my reflections, and set down here an important\nobservation: which is, that the more the increase of taxes keeps the\npeople in despondency and misery, the more indispensable is it to give\nthem a religious education; for it is in the irritation of wretchedness,\nthat we all have need of a powerful restraint and of daily consolations.\nThe successive abuse of strength and authority, in overturning all the\nrelations which originally existed between men, have raised, in the\nmidst of them, an edifice so artificial, and in which there reigns so\nmuch disproportion, that the idea of a God is become more necessary than\never, to serve as a leveller of this confused assemblage of disparities;\nand if we can ever imagine, that a people should exist, subject only to\nthe laws of a political morality, we should represent, without doubt, a\nrising nation, which would be restrained by the vigour of patriotism in\nits prime; a nation which would occupy a country where riches had not\nhad time to accumulate; where the distance of the habitations from each\nother contributed to the maintenance of domestic manners; where\nagriculture, that simple and peaceful occupation, would be the favourite\nemployment; where the work of the hands would obtain a recompense\nproportioned to the scarcity of the workmen, and the extensive\nusefulness of the labour; we should represent, in short, a nation where\nthe laws and the form of government would favour, during a long time,\nequality of rank and property. But in our ancient kingdoms in Europe,\nwhere the growth of riches continually augments the difference of\nfortunes and the distance of conditions;\u2014in our old political bodies,\nwhere we are crowded together, and where misery and magnificence are\never mingled, it must be a morality, fortified by religion, that shall\nrestrain these numerous spectators of so many possessions and objects of\nenvy, and who, placed so near every thing which they call happiness, can\nyet never aspire to it.\n\nIt may be asked, perhaps, in consequence of these reflections, whether\nreligion, which strengthens every tie, and fortifies every obligation,\nis not favourable to tyranny? Such a conclusion would be unreasonable;\nbut religion, which affords comfort under every affliction, would\nnecessarily sooth also the ills which arise from despotism; however, it\nis neither the origin, nor the support of it: religion, well understood,\nwould not lend its support but to order and justice; and the\ninstructions of political morality proposes to itself the same end.\nThus, in both plans of education, the rights of the sovereign, as well\nas those of the citizens, constitute simply one of the elementary parts\nof the general system of our duties.\n\nI shall only observe, that the insufficiency of political morality would\nappear still more obvious, in a country where the nation, subject to the\nauthority of an absolute prince, would have no share in the government;\nfor personal interest no longer having an habitual communication with\nthe general interest, there would be just ground to fear, that in\nwishing to hold out the union of these two interests as the essential\nmotive of virtue, the greater number would retain only this idea, that\npersonality was admitted for the first principle; and consequently every\none ought to reserve to himself the right of judging of the times and\ncircumstances when self-love and patriotism are to be separated, or\nunited. And how many errors would not this produce? Public good, like\nall abstract ideas, has not a precise definition; it is for the greater\npart of mankind a sea without bounds, and it requires not much address\nor shrewdness to confound all our analogies. We may know how we would\nform, according to our taste, the alliance of all the moral ideas, in\nconsidering with what facility men know how to reconcile with one\nquality the habitual infirmities of their character; he who wounds\nwithout discretion, prides himself in his frankness and courage; he who\nis cowardly and timid in his sentiments and in his words, boasts of his\ncaution and circumspection; and by a new refinement of which I have seen\nsingular examples, he who asks of the sovereign pecuniary favours,\nendeavours to persuade him that he is impelled to this solicitation,\nonly by a noble love of honourable distinction; every one is ingenious\nin fixing the point of union which connects his passions with some\nvirtue: would they then be less expert at finding some conformity\nbetween their own interest and that of the public?\n\nI cannot, I avow, without disgust, and even horror, conceive the absurd\nnotion of a political society, destitute of that governing motive\nafforded by religion, and restrained only by a pretended connexion of\ntheir private interest with the general. What circumscribed judges! What\na multiplicity of opinions, sentiments, and wills! All would be in\nconfusion, if we left to men the liberty of drawing their own\nconclusions: they must absolutely have a simple idea to regulate their\nconduct, especially when the application of this principle may be\ninfinitely diversified. God in delivering his laws on Mount Sinai, had\nneed but to say, _Thou shalt not steal_; and with the awful idea of that\nGod, whom every thing recals to our minds, whom every thing impresses on\nthe human heart, this short commandment preserves, at all times, a\nsufficient authority; but when political philosophy says, _Thou shalt\nnot steal_, it would be necessary to add to this precept a train of\nreasoning, on the laws of right, on the inequality of conditions, and on\nthe various social relations; in order to persuade us that it\ncomprehends every motive, that it answers all objections, and resists\nall attacks. It is necessary, further, that by the lessons of this\nphilosophy the most uncultivated minds should be qualified to follow the\ndifferent ramifications which unite, disunite, and reunite afresh the\npersonal to the public interest: what an enterprize! It is, perhaps,\nlike wishing to employ a course of anatomy, in order to direct a child\nin the choice of such aliments as are proper for it, instead of\nbeginning to conduct it by the counsels and the authority of its mother.\n\nThe same remarks are applicable to all the virtues, of which the\nobservance is essential to public order: what method would plain\nreasoning take to persuade a single man, that he ought not to deprive a\nhusband of the affections of his wife? Where would you assign him a\ndistinct recompense for the sacrifice of his passion? What windings\nshould we not be obliged to run over, to demonstrate to an ambitious\nman, that he ought not, in secret, to calumniate his rival; to the\nsolitary miser, armed with indifference, that he ought not to remove\nhimself from every occasion of doing good; to a disposition ardent and\nrevengeful, that he ought not to obey those urgent impulses which hurry\nhim away; to a man in want, that he ought not to have recourse to\nfalsehood to procure attention, or to deceive in any other manner? And\nhow many other positions would offer the same difficulties, and still\ngreater? Abstract ideas, the best arranged, can never conquer us but by\nlong arguments, since the peculiar nature of these ideas is to disengage\nour reasoning from the feelings, and consequently from striking and\nsudden impressions; besides, political morality, like every thing which\nthe mind only produces, would be always for us merely an opinion; an\nopinion from which we should have a right to appeal, at any time, to the\ntribunal of our reason. The lessons of men are nothing but\nrepresentations of their judgment; and the sentiments of some draw not\nthe will of others. There is not any principle of morality, which, under\nforms absolutely human, would not be susceptible of exceptions, or of\nsome modification; and there is nothing so compounded as the idea of the\nconnexion of virtue with happiness: in short, while our understanding\nhas a difficulty in comprehending and clearly distinguishing that union,\nthe objects of our passions are every where apparent, and all our senses\nare preengaged by them. The miser beholds gold and silver; the ambitious\nman, those honours which are conferred on others; the debauchee, the\nobjects of his luxury; virtue has nothing left but reasoning; and is\nthen in want of being sustained by religious sentiments, and by the\nenlivening hopes which accompany them.\n\nThus, in a government where you would wish to substitute political\nmorality for a religious education, it would become, perhaps,\nindispensable to guard men from receiving any ideas calculated to exalt\ntheir minds; it would be necessary to divert them from the different\ncompetitions which excite self-love and ambition; they must withdraw\nthemselves from the habitual society of women; and it would be still\nmore incumbent on them to abolish the use of money, that attracting and\nconfused image of all kinds of gratifications: in short, in taking from\nmen their religious hopes, and depriving them thus of the encouragements\nto virtue which the imagination gives birth to, every exertion must be\ntried to prevent this unruly imagination from seconding vice, and all\nthe passions contrary to public order: it was because Telemachus was\naccompanied by a Divinity, that he could, without danger, visit the\nsumptuous court of Sesostris, and the enchanting abodes of Eucharis and\nCalypso.\n\nIt is indeed an age the most pleasant, as well as the safest of our\nlife, which we cannot pass without a guide; we must then, in order to\npass with security through the tempestuous days of youth, have\nprinciples which command us, and not reflections to counsel us; these\nhave not any power but in proportion to the vigour of the mind, and the\nmind is only formed by experience and a long conflict of opinions.\n\nReligious instructions have the peculiar advantage of seizing the\nimagination, and of interesting our sensibility, those two brilliant\nfaculties of our early years: thus, then even supposing that we could\nestablish a course of political morality, sufficiently propped by\nreasoning, for defending from vice men enlightened by maturity, I should\nstill say, that a similar philosophy would not be suitable to youth, and\nthat this armour is too heavy for them.\n\nIn short, the lessons of human wisdom, which cannot govern us during the\nardour of our passions, are equally insufficient, when our strength\nbeing broken by disease, we are no longer in a state to comprehend a\nvariety of relations; instead of which, such is the pleasing emotions\nthat accompany the language of religion, that in the successive decline\nof our faculties, this language still keeps pace with them.\n\nNevertheless, if we were ever to be persuaded, that there was on earth a\nmore certain encouragement to virtue than religion, its powers would be\nimmediately weakened; it would not be half so interesting, nor could\nreign when divided; if its sentiments did not overflow, as we may say,\nthe human heart, all its influence would vanish.\n\nReligious instruction, in assembling all the means proper to excite men\nto virtue, neglects not, it is true, to point out the relations, which\nexist between the observance of the laws of morality and the happiness\nof life; but it is as an accessary motive, that these considerations are\npresented; and it is not necessary to support them by the same proofs as\na fundamental principle requires. Also, when people are taught early\nthat vices and crimes lead to misery on earth, these doctrines make not\na lasting impression on them, but in proportion as we succeed at the\nsame time, in convincing them of the constant influence of a Providence\nover all the events of this world.\n\nOne important reason still exempts religious professors, from attaching\nthemselves to demonstrate, that the principal advantages which excite\nthe envy of men, are an absolute consequence of the observance of the\nlaws of order: it is, that sacrifices, supported by an idea of duty, are\nchanged into real satisfactions; and the sentiments, which the virtuous\nenjoy from piety, compose an essential part of their happiness. But what\nconsolation can a man have by way of return; what secret approbation can\nwe grant him, when we know not any other authority than that of\npolitical morality, and when virtue is nothing but an opposition between\nprivate and public interest?\n\nReligion certainly proposes to man his own happiness, as an object and\nultimate end; but as this happiness is placed at a distance, religion\nconducts us to it by wholesome restrictions and temporary sacrifices; it\nregards only the sublimest part of us, that which disunites us from the\npresent moment, in order to connect us with futurity; it offers us\nhopes, which withdraw us from worldly interest, so far as is necessary\nto prevent us from being immoderately devoted to the disorderly\nimpressions of our senses, and the tyranny of our passions. Irreligion,\non the contrary, whose lessons teach us, that we are only masters of the\npresent moment, concentres us more and more within ourselves, and there\nis nothing beautiful or good in this condition; for grandeur, of every\nkind, relates to the extent of those relations which we comprehend; and,\nin a like acceptation, our sentiments submit to the same laws.\n\nThose who represent the obligations of religion as indifferent, assure\nus, that we may repose safely the maintenance of morality on some\ngeneral sentiments, which we have adopted; but do not consider that\nthese sentiments derive their origin, and almost all their force, from\nthat spirit of religion which they wish to weaken. Yes, even humanity,\nthis emotion of a noble soul, is animated and fortified by the idea of a\nSupreme Being; the alliance between men holds but feebly from the\nconformity of their organization; nor can it be attributed to the\nsimilitude of their passions, that continual source of so much hatred;\nit depends essentially on our connexion with the same author, the same\nsuperintendant, the same judge; it is founded on the equality of our\nright to the same hopes, and on that train of duties inculcated by\neducation, and rendered respectable by the habitual dominion of\nreligious opinions. Alas! it is a melancholy avowal, that men have so\nmany infirmities, so much injustice, selfishness, and ingratitude, at\nleast, in the eyes of those who have observed them collectively, that we\nnever can keep them in harmony by the mere lessons of wisdom: it is not\nalways because they are amiable that we love them; it is sometimes, and\nvery often indeed, because we ought to love them, that we find them\namiable. Yes, goodness and forbearance, these qualities the most simple,\nstill require to be compared, from time to time, with an idea general\nand predominate, the band of all our virtues. The passions of others\nwound us in so many ways, and there is often so much depth and energy in\nour self-love, that we have need of some succour to be constantly\ngenerous in our sentiments, and to be really interested for all our\nfellow-creatures, in the midst of whom we are placed.\n\nIn short, not to dissemble, if a man once came to consider himself as a\nbeing that is the child of chance, or of blind necessity, and tending\nonly to the dust from whence he sprung, and to which he must return, he\nwould despise himself; and far from seeking to rise to noble and\nvirtuous reflections, he would consider this species of ambition as a\nfantastic idea, which consumes in a vain and illusory manner, a part of\nthose fleeting minutes which he has to pass on earth; and all his\nattention being fixed on the shortness of life, and on the eternal\nsilence which must close the scene, he would only think _how to devour\nthis reign of a moment_.\n\nHow dangerous then would it be, on this supposition, to show to men the\nextremity of the chain which unites them together! It is in worldly\naffairs this knowledge of having received the last favour, which renders\nthem ungrateful towards those from whom they no longer expect any thing;\nand the same sentiment would weaken the power of morality if our lease\nwas manifestly only for this world. It is then religion which ought to\nstrengthen those ties, and defend the entire system of our duty against\nthe stratagems of reasoning and the artifices of our minds; it is\nnecessary, in order to oblige all men, to consider with respect the laws\nof morality, to teach them early that the social virtues are an homage\nrendered to the perfections and to the beneficent intentions of the\nSovereign Author of Nature, of that Infinite Being who is pleased with\nthe preservation of order, and the private sacrifices which the\naccomplishment of this grand design requires. And when I see modern\nphilosophers tracing, with an able hand, the general plan of our duties;\nwhen I see them fix with judgment the reciprocal obligations of\ncitizens, and giving, at last, for the basis to this legislation,\npersonal interest and the love of praise: I recollect the system of\nthose Indian philosophers, who, after having studied the revolutions of\nthe heavenly bodies, being perplexed to determine the power which\nsustained the vaulted firmament, thought they had freed it from\ndifficulty, by placing the universe on the back of an elephant, and this\nelephant on a tortoise. We shall imitate these philosophers, and, like\nthem, shall never proceed but by degradation, whenever, by endeavouring\nto form a chain of duties and moral principles, we do not place the last\nlink above worldly considerations, and beyond the limits of our social\nconventions.\n\n\n\n\n                               CHAP. II.\n    _The same Subject continued. A Parallel between the Influence of\n            Religious Principles, and of Laws and Opinions._\n\n\nAfter having examined, as I have just done, in the preceding chapter, if\nit were possible to found morality on the connexion of private with\npublic interest, it remains for me to consider, if the punishments\ninflicted by the sovereign, if the sceptre, which public opinion sways,\nhave sufficient power to restrain men, and bind them to the observance\nof their duty.\n\nIt is necessary to proceed by common ideas, in order to advance one\ndegree in the research of truth: thus I ought at first, in this place,\nto recollect, that the penal laws cannot be applied but to offences\nknown and proved; this consideration contracts their power within a very\nnarrow circle; however, crimes secretly committed, are not the only ones\nwhich are beyond the cognizance of laws; we must place in this rank\nevery reprehensible action, which, for want of a distinct character, can\nnever be pointed out; the number of them is prodigious: the rigour of\nparents, ingratitude of children, the inhumanity of abandoning their\nnurses, treachery in friendship, the violation of domestic comfort,\ndisunion sown in the bosoms of families, levity of principles in every\nsocial connexion, perfidious counsels, artful and slanderous\ninsinuations, rigorous exercise of authority, favour and partiality of\njudges, their inattention, their idleness and severity, endeavours to\nobtain places of importance, with a consciousness of incapacity, corrupt\nflatteries addressed to sovereigns or ministers, statesmen indifferent\nto public good, their vile and pernicious jealousies, and their\npolitical dissensions, excited in order to render themselves necessary,\nwars instigated by ambition, intolerance under the cover of zeal; in\nshort, many other fatal evils which the laws cannot either follow or\ndescribe, and which often do much mischief, before they give any\nopportunity for public censure. We ought not even to desire that this\ncensure pass certain bounds, because authority, applied to obscure\nfaults, or those susceptible of various interpretations, easily\ndegenerates into tyranny; and as there is nothing so transitory as\nthought, nothing so secret as our sentiments; none but an invisible\npower, whose authority seems to participate of the divine, has a right\nto enter into the secrets of our hearts.\n\nIt is then only, at the tribunal of his own conscience, that a man can\nbe interrogated about a number of actions and intentions which escape\nthe inspection of government. Let us beware of overturning the authority\nof a judge so active and enlightened; let us beware of weakening it\nvoluntarily, and let us not be so imprudent as to repose only on social\ndiscipline. I will even venture to say, that the power of conscience is\nperhaps still more necessary in the age we live in, than in any of the\npreceding; though society no longer presents us with a view of those\nvices and crimes which shock us by their deformity; yet licentiousness\nof morals, and refinement of manners, have almost imperceptibly blended\ngood and evil, vice and decency, falsehood and truth, selfishness and\nmagnanimity; it is more important then ever, to oppose to this secret\ndepravity, an interior authority, which pries into the mysterious\nwindings of disguise, and whose action may be as penetrating as our\ndissimulation seems artful and well contrived.\n\nIt is, undoubtedly, because a similar authority appears absolutely\nnecessary to the maintenance of public order, that several philosophic\nwriters have endeavoured to introduce it as a principle of atheism. In\nsuch a system the whole is fictitious; they speak of our blushing at the\nrecollection of our follies, of dreading our own secret reproaches, and\nof being afraid of the condemnation, which, in the calm of reflection,\nwe shall pronounce against ourselves; but these sentiments, which have\nso much force with the idea of a God, they know not what to unite them\nwith, when they would give only for a guide the most active personal\ninterest, and when all the grand communications, established between men\nby religious opinions, are absolutely broken; conscience is then an\nexpression void of meaning, a useless word in the language. We may still\nfeel remorse, that is to say, regret at being deceived in the pursuits\nof ambition, in promoting our interest, in the choice of means which we\nemploy to obtain the respect and praise of others; in short, in the\nvarious calculations of our worldly advantage: but such remorse is only\nan exaltation of our self-love; we deify, in some measure, our judgment\nand understanding, and we make at last all our actions appear before\nthese false idols, to reproach us with our errors and weaknesses; we\nthus voluntarily become our own tormentors; but when this perfection is\ntoo importunate, we have it in our power to command our tyrants to use\nmore indulgence towards us. It is not the same with the reproaches of\nconscience; the sentiments which produce them have nothing compounded or\nartificial in them, we cannot corrupt our judge, nor enter into a\ncompromise with him; that which seduces men never deceives him, and\namidst the giddiness of prosperity, in the intoxication of the greatest\nsuccess, his looks are inevitably fixed on us; and we cannot but with\nterror enjoy the applause and the triumphs which we have not merited.\n\nWe read in several modern books, that with good laws we should always\nhave morality sufficient; but I cannot adopt this opinion. Man is a\nbeing so compounded, and his relations with his species are so various\nand so fine, that to regulate his mind, and direct his conduct, he has\nneed of a multitude of sentiments, on which the commands of the\nsovereign have not any hold; they are all simple and declared duties,\nwhich the legislators have reduced to precepts, and this rough building,\ntermed civil laws, leaves vacancies throughout. The laws require merely\na blind obedience; and as they enjoin and defend only actions, are\nabsolutely indifferent to the private sentiments of men; the moral\nedifice which they raise is in several parts a mere exterior form, and\nit is at the roof, if I may say so, that they have begun. Religion\nproceeds in a manner diametrically opposite; it is in the heart, it is\nin the recesses of conscience, that it lays its first base; it appears\nto be acquainted with the grand secrets of nature; it sows in the earth\na grain, and this grain is nourished, and transformed into numerous\nbranches, which, without any effort, spring up, and extend themselves to\nall dimensions and in every kind of form.\n\nI will suppose, nevertheless, that we believed it sufficient for the\nmaintenance of public order, to reduce morality to the spirit of civil\nlaws, it would still be out of the power of men to draw from this\nassimilation familiar instructions proper to form a code of education;\nfor these laws, simple in their commands, are not so in their\nprinciples. We perceive not immediately why revenge, the most just, is\nprohibited; why we have not the power to do ourselves justice by the\nsame means a ravisher would use; why we have not a right to resist with\nviolence the tyrannic oppressor; in short, why certain actions, some\nindifferent in themselves, and some hurtful to others, are condemned in\na general and uniform manner: a kind of combination is necessary to\ndiscover, that the legislator himself is wandering from natural ideas,\nin order to prevent every person from being a judge in his own cause,\nand to avoid that, those exceptions and distinctions, of which every\ncircumstance is susceptible, might never be determined by the judgment\nof individuals. In the same manner, from those indirect motives, the\nlaws treat with more rigour an offence difficult to define, than a\ndisorder more reprehensible in itself; but of which the excesses might\nbe easily perceived: and they observe still the same rule with respect\nto crimes which are surrounded by greater allurements, though this\nseduction is even a motive for indulgence in the eyes of simple justice;\nin short, the laws, in adopting a more determinate method, to constrain\ndebtors to the discharge of their obligations, prove that they are not\ncompassionate to unforeseen misfortunes, nor actuated by other motives\nof equity which merit an equal interest; all their attention is fixed on\nthe relation of engagements with the political resources, which arise\nfrom commerce and its transactions. There exists thus a multitude of\nprohibitions of punishments, or gradations in the penalties, which have\nnot any connexion but with the general views of the legislation, and\nagree not with the circumscribed good sense, which determines the\njudgment of individuals. It is then often, by considerations very\nextensive and complicated, that an action is criminal or reprehensible\nin the eyes of the law: thus, we know not how to erect, on this base\nalone, a system of morality, of which every one can have a clear\nperception; and since the legislator carefully avoids submitting any\nthing to private examination, because he sacrifices often to this\nprinciple natural justice, how then can he wish, at the same time, to\ngive us for a rule of conduct a political morality, which is all founded\non reasoning?\n\nIt is of consequence still to observe, that to the eyes of the greater\nnumber of men, the sense of the laws, and the decrees formed by those\nwho interpret them, ought necessarily to be identified and blended, and\nform only one point of view; and as the judges are frequently exposed to\nerror, the true spirit of legislation remains often in obscurity, and we\nwith difficulty discern it.\n\nIt is, perhaps, because laws are the work of our understanding, that we\nare disposed to grant them a universal dominion: but I will avow, I am\nfar from thinking that they can ever be substituted instead of the\nsalutary influence of religion, and that I believe them insufficient\neven to regulate the things immediately under their jurisdiction; thus I\nwould request you to reflect, if the unfortunate errors with which we\nreproach criminal tribunals, have not their source in the faults\ncommitted by sovereign authority; when it has referred all the duties of\nthe judges to the injunctions of the law, and when it has refused to\nconfide any longer in the conscience and private sentiments of the\nmagistrates.\n\nLet us render this observation more clear by a single example chosen\nfrom a number. We demand at present, that the legislator explain himself\nafresh on the grand question, what witnesses are necessary? but will he\nnot always run the risk of being deceived, whether he absolutely rejects\na probable evidence, or whether he makes the fate of a criminal depend\nupon it? How will he determine, that the testimony of an honest man,\nidentifying the person of an assassin, in his own cause, should not be\nreckoned any thing by the judge; and how can he pretend also, that a\ntestimony of this nature is sufficient to determine a condemnation, when\nhe who gives the evidence appears suspicious, either from the motives,\nwhich we must suppose actuate him, or from the improbability of his\nassertion? Reason is then placed between two extremes; but intermediate\nideas not being consonant with the absolute language of law, we ought,\nin such circumstances, to leave much to the wisdom and integrity of the\nmagistrates; and so far from serving innocence by acting otherwise, we\nvisibly endanger it; because judges habituate themselves to render the\nlaws responsible for every thing, and respectfully submit to the letter,\ninstead of obeying the spirit, which is the earnest desire of obtaining\ntruth. What then, some will say, would you wish that there should be no\npositive instructions, neither to serve for a guide in the examination\nof crimes, nor to determine the character by which these crimes may be\ndistinguished? This was never in my mind; but I could wish, that in an\naffair of such serious importance, they would unite to the judgment\nwhich proceeded from the prudence of the legislator, that which may be\nbrought by the wisdom of the judges; I could wish, that the criminal\nlegislation prescribed to the magistrates, not all that they are obliged\nto do, but all from which they are not exempt; not all that is\nsufficient to determine their opinion, but all which ought to be the\nindispensable condition of a capital punishment. Guided by such a\nspirit, the commands given by the law, would be a safeguard against the\nignorance, or possible prevarication of the judges; but as any general\nrule, any immutable principle, is not applicable to an infinite\ndiversity of circumstances, I would give to innocence a new defender,\ninteresting in a more immediate manner the morality of the judges to\nsearch for and examine the truth, and to recal continually all the\nextent of their obligations; I could wish, that previous to their\npassing a sentence of condemnation, raising one of their hands towards\nheaven, they pronounced with earnestness these words: \u201cI attest, that\nthe man accused before us, appears to me guilty, according to the law,\nand according to my own private judgment.\u201d It is not sufficient, that we\ncommand a judge to examine with probity, if the proofs of an offence,\nare conformable to those required by the statute; it is necessary to\ninform a magistrate, that he ought to enquire into the truth by all the\nmeans that scrupulous anxiety can suggest; he should know, that, called\nto decide on the life and the honour of men, his understanding and his\nheart, ought to be enlisted in the cause of humanity, and that there are\nnot any limits opposed to bound his duty; then, without failing in any\nof the enquiries ordained by the laws, he would force himself to go\nstill further, that no evidence proper to make an impression on a\nreasonable man might be rejected, at the same time, that none might have\nso decisive a force, that the examination of circumstances would ever\nappear useless; the judges then would make use of that sagacity, which\nseems to discern instinctively; they would not then disdain to read even\nthe looks of the accuser and the accused, and they would not believe it\na matter of indifference to observe with attention, all those emotions\nof nature, where sometimes truth is painted with so much energy; then,\nin short, innocence would be under the protection of something as pure\nas itself, the scrupulous conscience of a judge.\n\nWe have never, perhaps, sufficiently considered how much a methodical\norder, when we confine ourselves too servilely to it, contracts the\nbounds of the mind; it becomes then like a foot-path traced between two\nbanks, which prevents our discovering what is not in a strait line. The\nstrict observance of method diverts us also from consulting that light,\nsometimes so lively, of which the soul only is the focus; for in\nsubjecting us to a positive course of things always regular, and in\nmaking us find pleasure in a determined path, which offers continual\nrepose to our thoughts, it incapacitates for thinking that delicate\nperception of natural sentiments, which has nothing fixed or\ncircumscribed, but whose free flight often makes us approach to truth,\nas by a kind of instinct or inspiration.\n\nI should stray too far from my subject, if I extended these reflections,\nand I hasten to connect them with the subject of this chapter, in\nrepeating again, that if the laws are insufficient, even in those\ndecisions submitted to their authority, and if the they have absolute\nneed of the aid of religion, whenever they impose on their private\nexpounders duties a little complicated; they would be still less able to\nsupply the habitual and daily influence of that motive, the most\npowerful of all, and the only one at the same time, of which the action\nwill be sufficiently penetrating to follow us in the mazes of our\nconduct, and in the labyrinth of our thoughts.\n\nI ought now to direct your attention towards other considerations. All\nthat is required by public order, all that is of importance to society,\nsome will say, is, that criminals may not escape the sword of justice,\nand that an attentive superintendance discover them under the cloud\nwhere they seek to conceal themselves. I will not here recal the various\nobstacles, which are opposed to the plenitude of this vigilance; every\none may perceive them, or form an idea of them; but I hasten to observe,\nthat in considering society in its actual state, we ought not to forget,\nthat religious sentiments have greatly diminished the talk of\ngovernment; a scene quite new would open, if we had for our guide only\npolitical morality; it would not then be a few men without principles,\nwho would trouble the public order, more able actors would mix in the\nthrong, some conducted by mature reflection, and others, carried away by\nseducing appearances, would be incessantly at war with all those, whose\nfortune excited their jealousy; and then only we should know how many\nopportunities there are of doing evil, and injuring others. It would\nalso happen, that all these enemies of public order not being\ndisconcerted by the reproaches of their conscience, would become every\nday more expert in the art of avoiding the observation of justice; and\nthe dangers to which the imprudent exposed themselves, would not\ndiscourage the ingenious.\n\nIt is then, if I may be permitted so to express myself, because the laws\nfind men in a healthy state, prepared by religious instruction, that\nthey can restrain them; but if a system of education merely political\nwas ever to prevail, new precautions and new chains would become\nabsolutely necessary, and after having freed us from the mild ties of\nreligion, the projectors of such a system would increase our civil\nslavery, would bend our necks under the hardest of all yokes, that which\nis imposed by our fellow-creatures.\n\nReligion, whose influence they wish us to reject, is better appropriated\nthan they think, to the mixture of pride and weakness, which constitutes\nour nature, and for us, such as we are; its action is far preferable to\nthat of the penal laws; it is not, before his equals, armed with the rod\nof vengeance, that the culprit is made to appear; it is not to their\nignorance, or to their inexorable justice, that he is abandoned; it is\nat the tribunal of his own conscience, that religion informs against\nhim; before a God, sovereign of the world, that it humbles, and in the\nname of a tender and merciful Father that it comforts him. Alas! while\nyou at once take from us both our consolation and our true dignity, you\nwish to refer every thing to private interest and public punishment; but\npermit me to listen to those commands which come from on high; leave me\nto divert my attention from the menacing sceptre which the potentates of\nthe earth weild in their hand; leave me to account with Him, before whom\nthey shrink into nothing; leave me, in short, to address myself to him\nwho pardons, and who, at the moment I have offended, permits me still to\nlove him, and rely on his grace!\u2014Alas! without the idea of a\nGod,\u2014without this connexion with a Supreme Being, author of all nature,\nwe should only listen to the vile counsels of selfish prudence, we\nshould only have to flatter and adore the rulers of nations, and all\nthose who in an absolute monarchy, are the numerous representatives of\nthe authority of the prince; yes, talents, sentiments, ought to bend\nbefore these distributors of so much good and evil, if nothing exists\nbeyond worldly interest; and when once every one cringes, there is no\nmore dignity in the character, men become incapable of any great action,\nand unequal to any moral excellence.\n\nReligious opinions have the double merit of maintaining us in the\nobedience due to the laws and the soveriegn, and of nourishing in our\nhearts a sentiment which sustains our courage, and which reminds men of\ntheir true grandeur; teaches submission without meanness, and prevents,\nabove all, cowardly humiliations before transitory idols, in showing at\na distance the last period, when all must return to an equality before\nthe Master of the World.\n\nThe idea of a God, at the same distance from all men, serves also to\nconsole us for that shocking superiority of rank and fortune under the\noppression of which we live; it is necessary to transport ourselves to\nthe heights religion discovers, to consider with a kind of calmness and\nindifference the frivolous pretentions of some, and the confident\nhaughtiness of others; and such objects of regret, or of envy, which\nappeared a Colossus to our imagination, are changed into a grain of\nsand, when we contrast them with the grand prospects which such sublime\nmeditations display to our view.\n\nThey are then blind, or indifferent to our interest, who wish to\nsubstitute, instead of religious instructions, political and worldly\nmaxims; and in like manner, those are inflexible and unfeeling, who\nbelieve they shall be able to conduct men only by terror; and who, in\ncontesting the salutary influence of religious opinions, expect less\nfrom them than the axe of the lictors, and the apparatus of execution.\nWhat is then this wretched system? For supposing even that the different\nmeans of securing public tranquillity were equal in their effect, should\nwe not prefer religious principles, which prevent crimes, to the strict\nlaws which punish them? I understand not besides, how, with the same\nhand that they repel religious sentiments, they wish to raise every\nwhere scaffolds, and multiply, without scruple, those frightful theatres\nof severity; for if men, hurried onwards to crimes, were only governed\nby blind necessity, alas! what do they deserve? And if we still\ndetermine to destroy them as examples, we should assist at their\nexecution, as at that of beings devoted for the good of society, as\nIphigenia was sacrificed at Aulis for the salvation of Greece.\n\nReligion is, in another respect, superior to the laws, which are ever\narmed for vengeance; instead of that, religion, even when threatening,\nnourishes also the hopes of pardon and felicity; and I believe, contrary\nto the generally received opinion, that man, by his nature, is more\nconstantly animated by hope, than restrained by fear; the former of\nthese sentiments compose the tenor of our life, whilst the latter is the\neffect of an extraordinary circumstance, or particular situation; in\nshort, courage, or want of consideration, turns our attention from\ndanger, whilst ideas of happiness are perpetually present, and blended,\nif I may use the expression, with our whole existence.\n\nI perceive, however, that some may say to me, it is not only of civil\nand penal laws that we mean to speak, when we maintain that good public\ninstitutions would be an efficacious substitute for the influence of\nreligion; it would be necessary to introduce laws of education, proper\nto modify, beforehand, the mind and form the character. But they have\nnot explained, and I am ignorant that there are such laws, which they\nwish to distinguish from the general doctrines we are acquainted with;\ndoctrines susceptible, undoubtedly, of different degrees of perfection,\nwhich, before instructing us not only in the virtues simple and real,\nbut in all those mixed and conventional, have necessarily a vague\ncharacter, and could not separate themselves from the support that they\nborrow from the fixed and precise ideas of religion. They may cite the\nexample of Sparta, where the state undertook the education of the\ncitizens, and formed by laws the extraordinary manners which history has\ndelineated; but that government, aided in this enterprize by all the\ninfluence of paternal authority, nevertheless proposed but two great\nobjects, the encouragement of martial qualities, and the maintenance of\nliberty: morality was not made interesting, though among us it requires\nso much application; and it was rendered less necessary, as every\ninstitution tended to introduce a perfect equality of rank and fortune,\nand opposed all kind of communication with foreigners. In short, it was,\nafter all, a religious opinion which subjected the Spartans to the\nauthority of their legislator; and without their confidence in the\noracle of Delphos, Lycurgus had only been a celebrated philosopher.\n\nWe are still further, at present, from the disposition and situation\nwhich would allow laws of education to govern us, supported only by a\npolitical spirit; in order to make the trial, we must be divided into\nlittle associations; and by some means, not yet discovered, be able to\noppose invincible obstacles to the enlargement of them, and to preserve\nus from the desires and voluptuousness which are the inevitable\nconsequence of an augmentation of wealth, and the progress of the arts\nand sciences: in short, and it is a singular remark, at a period when\nman is become a being the most compounded, on account of these social\nmodifications, he has need, more than ever, of a principle which will\npenetrate to the very source of his numerous affections; consequently it\nwould be necessary suddenly to carry him back to his primitive\nsimplicity, to make him agree, in some measure, with the limited extent\nof an education purely civil. Let me add, that a like education could\nnot be adapted to the commonalty, as in Sparta; they must be separated\nfrom the citizens, and kept in servitude: an observation which leads me\nto a very important reflection; it is, that in a country where slavery\nwould be introduced, where the most numerous class would be governed by\nthe continual fear of the severest chastisement, they would be able to\nconfide more in the mere ascendency of political morality; for this\nmorality only having to keep in order the part of society represented by\nthose who have property, the task would not be difficult; but among us,\nwhere happily all men, without any distinction, are subject to the yoke\nof the law, an authority so extensive, must necessarily be strengthened\nand seconded by the universal influence of religious opinions.\n\nI shall conclude this part of my subject by one reflection more;\nsupposing, even in the sovereign authority, an exertion sufficiently\ngeneral to prevent or repress evil, religion would still have this great\nadvantage, that it inculcates the beneficent virtues, which the laws\ncannot reach; and yet, in the actual state of society, it is become\nimpossible to omit those virtues. It is not sufficient to be just, when\nthe laws of property reduce to bare necessaries the most numerous class\nof men, whose weak resources the most trivial accident disconcerts; and\nI hesitate not to say, that such is the extreme inequality established\nby these laws, that we ought at present to consider the spirit of\nbeneficence and forbearance, as constituting a part of social order; as\nin all places and times, it softens by its assistance the excess of\nwretchedness, and by an innumerable multitude of springs spreads itself\nas the vital juice, through forlorn beings, whom misery had almost\nexhausted. But if this spirit, properly intermediate between the rigour\nof civil rights, and the original title of humanity, did not exist, or\nshould ever be extinct, we should see all the subordinate ties relax\nimperceptibly; and a man, loaded with the favours of fortune, never\npresenting himself to the people under the form of a benefactor; they\nwould more forcibly feel the great extent of his privileges, and would\naccustom themselves to discuss them. Men must then find a way of\nmoderating the despotism of fortune, or render homage to religion,\nwhich, by the sublime idea of an exchange between the blessings of\nheaven and earth, obliges the rich to give what the laws cannot demand.\n\nReligion then comes continually to assist the civil legislation, it\nspeaks a language unknown to the laws, it warms that sensibility which\nought to advance even before reason; it acts like light and interior\nwarmth, as it both enlightens and animates; and what we have not\nsufficiently observed, is, that in society its moral sentiments are the\nimperceptible tie of a number of parts, which seem to be held by their\nown agreement, and which would be successively detached, if the chain\nwhich united them was ever to be broken: we shall more clearly perceive\nthis truth, in the examination we are going to make of the connexion of\nopinion with morality.\n\nWhen we imagine we should be able to subject men to the observance of\npublic order, and inspire them with the love of virtue, by motives\nindependent of religion, we propose, undoubtedly, to put in action two\npowerful springs; the desire of esteem and praise; and the fear of\ncontempt and shame. Thus, to follow my subject in all its branches, I\nought necessarily to examine what is the degree of force of these\ndifferent motives, and what is also their true application. I have\nalready spoken, in other works of mine, of the opinion of the world, and\nof its salutary effects; but the subject I am now treating obliges me to\nconsider it under a different point of view, and it is by placing myself\nbehind the scene, that I shall be able to fulfil this task.\n\nI remark, at first, that the opinion of the world exercises its\ninfluence in a very confined space, as it is particularly called in to\njudge men, whose rank and employments have some splendour in the world;\nthe opinion of the public is an approbation or censure, exercised in the\nname of the general interest; thus it ought only to be applied to\nactions and to words, which either directly or indirectly affect this\ninterest. The private conduct of him who discharges in society the most\nimportant functions, is indeed submitted to the judgment and\nsuperintendance of the public at large; and we ought not to wonder that\nit should, since in similar circumstances the principles of an\nindividual appear an earnest, or presage of his public virtues; but all\nthose, whose sole occupation is to spend their income, those who are\nentirely devoted to dissipation, and have not any connexion with the\ngrand interests of the community, become independent of the opinion of\nthe world; or at least they do not experience its severity, till, by\nfoolish extravagance or inconsiderate pretentions, they draw the\nattention of the public on their conduct. In short, a great number of\nmen, who, by the obscurity of their condition and moderate fortune, find\nthemselves lost in a crowd, will never dread a power that singles out of\nthe ranks its heroes and victims: thus people, concealed under humble\nroofs scattered in the country, are as indifferent to the opinion of the\nworld, as are to the rays of the sun, those unhappy tribes who labour at\nthe bottom of mines, and pass their whole lives in a dark subterraneous\ncavern.\n\nWe cannot then form any kind of comparison between the peculiar\nascendency of reputation, and the general influence of religious\nmorality.\n\nFame only recompenses rare actions; and would have nothing to bestow on\na nation of heroes. Religion tends continually to render virtue common;\nbut the universal success of its instructions would take away nothing\nfrom the value of its benefits.\n\nIn order to receive the rewards which fame bestows, men must appear with\nsplendour on the stage of life. Religion, on the contrary, extends its\nmost distinguished favours to those who despise praise, and who do good\nin secret.\n\nThe world almost always requires, that talents and knowledge should\naccompany virtue; and it is thus that the love of praise becomes the\nseed and spring of great actions. Religion never imposes this condition;\nits recompenses belong to the ignorant as well as the learned, to the\nhumble spirit as well as to the exalted genius; and it is in animating\nequally all men, in exciting universal activity, that it effectually\nconcurs to the maintenance of civil order.\n\nThe world, only judging of actions in their state of maturity, takes not\nany account of efforts; and, as men do not seize the palm till the\nmoment when they approach the goal, it is necessary, at the commencement\nof the career, that every one should derive from his own force his\ncourage and perseverance. Religion, on the contrary, if I may say so,\ndwells with us from the moment that we begin to think; it welcomes our\nintentions, strengthens our resolutions, and supports us even in the\nhour of temptation; it is, at all times, and in all situations, that we\nexperience its influence, as we are continually reminded of its rewards.\n\nFame distributing only favours, whose principal value arises from\ncomparisons and competitions, often draws on its favourites the\nenvenomed breath of slander, and then sometimes they doubt about their\nreal value. Religion mingles no bitterness with its reward; it is in\nobscurity that it confers content; and as it has treasures for all the\nworld, what is granted to some never impoverishes others.\n\nThe world is often mistaken in its judgment, because in the midst of so\nvast a circle it is often difficult to distinguish true merit and the\nsplendour which follows it, from the false colours of hypocrisy.\nReligion extends its influence to the inmost recesses of the heart, and\nplaces there an observer, who has a closer view of men than their\nactions afford, and whom they cannot either deceive or surprise.\n\nIn short, I will say it, there are moments when the opinion of the world\nloses its force, and becomes enervated or governed by a servile spirit,\nit searches to find faults in the oppressed, and attributes grand\nintentions to powerful men, that it may, without shame, abandon one, and\ncelebrate the other. Ah! it is in such moments we return with delight to\nthe precepts of religion, to those independent principles, which, while\nthey illustrate every thing deserving of esteem or contempt, enable us\nto follow the dictates of our heart, and speak according to our\nconscience!\n\nThus, the opinion of the world, whose influence I have seen increase,\nwhich unites so many motives to excite men to distinguished actions, and\nto exalt them even to the great virtues, still ought never to be\ncompared with the universal, invariable influence of religion, and with\nthose sentiments which its precepts inspire men of all ages, of all\nconditions, and every degree of understanding.\n\nWould it be straying from my subject, to remark here the illusion we are\nunder, if we expect any important utility to arise from those marks of\ndistinction lately introduced into France, under the name of public\nrewards for virtue? Those trivial favours of opinion can never be\ndecreed but to a few dispersed actions; and it might be apprehended,\nthat if we rendered such institutions permanent and general, they might\nturn the attention of the people at large from the grand recompense,\nwhich ought to be the spring and encouragement of all that is great and\nvirtuous. Experienced hunters, at the moment when all the pack is still\npursuing the most noble ranger of the forest, would not permit them to\nturn, to run after a prey which darted out of a lurking hole or thicket.\n\nThe establishments on which I here fix my attention, have, perhaps, also\nthe inconvenience of rousing a sentiment of surprise at the appearance\nof a good action, and announcing thus too distinctly, that they believe\nthem rare, and above the common exertions of humanity; and if we\nextended still further these institutions, they would only introduce a\nspirit of parade, always ready to languish, when applause was distant;\nand it would be a great misfortune, if such a spirit ever took place of\nsimple and modest integrity, which receives from itself its motives and\nreward: virtue and vanity make a bad mixture; men are then accustomed\nonly to act to be seen, and these opportunities, at present not very\nnumerous, they wish to choose. There is besides a class of men so ill\ntreated by fortune, that we should commit a great mistake in habituating\nthem to connect continually calculations of probable rewards from men,\nwith the practice of their duty; they would too often be deceived.\n\nIt is then, we cannot too often repeat it, it is respect for morality,\nwhich it is necessary to maintain, by strengthening religious\nprinciples, its most solid foundation; all other extraordinary helps\nderive their force from novelty; and at the period when society would\nhave the greatest need of their succour, it would, perhaps, have arrived\nat its greatest depravity.\n\nThus far at present, I have considered the influence of opinion, only in\ngeneral; but men manifest more in a private manner, the idea that they\nhave conceived of each other; and this sentiment, which takes then the\nsimple name of esteem, is connected with a determinate knowledge of the\nmoral character of those with whom we have an habitual correspondence;\nesteem under this view, has not the splendour of reputation; but as\nevery one can pretend to it in the circle where his birth and\noccupations have placed him, the hope of obtaining it ought to be\nreckoned among the grand motives which excite us to the observance of\nmorality. However, if we supposed that this esteem was entirely\nseparated from religious sentiments, it would be like many other\nadvantages, which every one would estimate by his own fancy; for\nwhatever comes solely from men, can only have a price relative to our\nconnexion with them: thus the esteem of one, or of several persons,\nwould not indemnify for such a sacrifice; and often also this sentiment,\non their part, would appear inferior to some other objects, of ambition;\nin a word, from the moment every preference, every valuation was brought\nto a standard, each would insensibly have his own book of rates; and the\njustness of them would depend on the degree of judgment and foresight of\nevery individual. But how can we imagine that perfection in morality\nwould ever be secure, when it depended on wavering and arbitrary\ncomparisons, whose foundation would be continually changed by the\nvarious circumstances and situations of life? The motives which religion\npresents are absolutely different; it is not by confused contrasts, that\nit directs men; it is a predominate interest to which they are recalled;\nit is round a beacon, of which the brilliant flames are seen on all\nsides, that they are assembled; in short the rules which it prescribes\nare not uncertain, and the advantages which it promises do not admit of\nan equivalent.\n\nLet us further observe here, that selfishness, after having compared the\nenjoyment of esteem with pleasures of a different kind, would not fail\nto reckon the chances which afford a hope of imposing on men; and in the\nmidst of these perplexed calculations, the passion of the moment would\nbe almost always victorious. Besides, we might ask, what is the esteem\nof others, to that numerous class which misery makes solitary? And what\nis it but a sentiment, of which the effect is never obvious, to those\nwhose view is limited to the present day, or the next, because they only\nlive by instantaneous resources? All the advantages annexed to\nreputation are promisory notes, of which it is necessary to be able to\nwait the distant expiration; reflection and knowledge only acquaint us\nwith their value; and the ignorance of the greater part of a nation\nwould render them unequal to this kind of combination.\n\nIf then, after having taken a view of the lowest, I observe those who\ncompose the superior class, I will venture a reflection of a very\ndifferent kind; that in a country where we have the hope of obtaining\nthe most splendid marks of distinction, and where fame has power to\nraise heroes, great ministers, and men of genius in every profession, we\ndo not find that the duties of private life are best known and the most\nrespected. Men, uniting to celebrate with ardour great talents and\nactions, consider with more indifference the morals and manners of\nindividuals; they make an ideal beauty, composed of every thing which\ncontributes to the celebrity of their country and the honour of their\nnation; but by accustoming themselves to refer every thing to these\ninterests, they become extremely negligent with respect to common\nvirtues, and sometimes they even decide, that the rare qualities of the\nmind may absolutely dispense with them. Besides, if fame can serve to\nreward the most assiduous labour and painful self-denial, it is far from\nbeing necessary, that moderate sentiments of esteem should indemnify\nthose who obtain them for the sacrifice of their passions; it does not\nfollow, that this sentiment should give them strength to resist the\nmultiplied seductions that the hopes of ambition and the chances of\nfortune present to our view; and this consideration acquires more force\nin a kingdom, where, among the distinctions of which the favour of the\nprince is the origin, there are some which attract so much homage, that\nthey resemble fame itself.\n\nIn short, and what I am going to say comprehends, in a general manner,\nthe various questions which I have just treated: the esteem of men, even\nwhen this sentiment seems the most foreign to religion, receives,\nnevertheless, from it its principal strength, and even origin; it is a\nreflection of great importance, and of which I will endeavour to\ndemonstrate the truth.\n\nWe ought, at first, to ask what is the original principle of society,\nwhich gives weight to the various expressions of the sentiment of\nesteem: we shall find, undoubtedly, that it is a distinct idea of the\nduties of men, a notion of good morals, as general as firm. Now the\nduties of life cannot be fulfilled without the assistance of religion,\nsince the connexion of private and public interest, the only foundation\nof the virtues of our framing, is, as we have demonstrated an imperfect\nsystem, and susceptible of a multitude of exceptions, or arbitrary\ninterpretations. It is necessary then that our social obligations should\nbe fixed in an authentic manner, if we wish that our judgment and the\nsentiments which we adopt should be a real indication of the relation\nthe conduct of men has with moral perfection; but, if this perfection\nwas only determined by human conventions, if it was despoiled of the\nmajesty which religion invests it with, reputation, and sentiments of\nesteem, which are the pledge and stamp of good morals, would insensibly\nlose their value; we should then recollect that coin, which some vainly\nwished to preserve the current value of in commerce, after having\nmaterially altered either the weight or the standard; and, in effect, to\nfollow the simile a moment longer, how could we alter the essence of\nmorality more, and lessen the respect which is due to it, than by\nseparating it from the sublime motives which religion presents, to unite\nit only to political considerations.\n\nOne objection I ought to obviate: it may be said, perhaps, that the\ninfluence of honour in the army, seems to be a proof that reputation,\nwithout the aid of any other impulse, would have sufficient influence to\ndirect the mind to the end which we propose to ourselves. This objection\ndoes not appear to me decisive: honour in armies preserves a great\nascendency, because amongst men thus assembled, it is impossible to\nescape shame, and the punishment incurred by cowardice; it is in war\nthat the power of authority and that of fame unite all their forces,\nbecause that they exercise their influence on men engaged in one action,\nactuated by the same spirit, by that singular subordination, termed\ndiscipline. Thus, when in the commencement of the Roman republic, the\narmy participated more of the air of the city, and was not yet\nfamiliarized to the military yoke, it was then only through the sanction\nof an oath, supported by religious sentiments, that the general\ncontrived to prevent the inconstancy and defection of those who followed\nhim to the camp. Whatever then may be at present, the power of honour in\narmies, whatever at present may be its influence in the field of battle,\nwhere the actors, spectators, and judges, are on the same stage, and\nhave nothing else to do but to practise, remark, and praise a particular\nvirtue, we should not be able to draw any deduction from it, applicable\nto the social relations, whose extent is immense, and to whose diversity\nthere is no bound. Besides, military honour is very far from being\nforeign to the general principles of morality, and consequently to\nreligious opinions, the most solid support of those principles; for\nsentiments which contain, in some manner, the idea of a noble sacrifice,\nwould lose great part of their force, if the great basis of our duty was\never shaken.\n\nA perfect model is necessary to fix the admiration of men; and it is\nonly by an intercourse more or less constant with that first model, that\nseveral opinions which seem, in appearance, to arise merely from\nconvenience have consistency.\n\nHowever, there has resulted from our warlike customs an opinion purely\nsocial, which is very powerful: it is that of the point of honour, when\nwe consider it in its singular and simple acceptation, when a man is\nready to sacrifice his life to guard himself from the slightest\nhumiliation. This opinion, it is true, only dictates its rules among\nequals, and the exercise of its authority extends to an inconsiderable\npart of a nation, which, wholly given up to worldly concerns, are\noccupied entirely with comparisons and distinctions; it is one of the\nancient appendages of military honour, and in uniting all its force\ntowards a single idea it is become a simple principle, which has been\nblindly transmitted and as blindly respected.\n\nIt is by the effect of a similar habit that savages affix all their\nglory to a contempt of bodily pain, and to demonstrations of gaiety, in\nthe midst of the most cruel torments. Can we doubt, that their\nsupernatural exultation would not be weakened, at the very instant they\nwere acquainted with our most common ideas of virtue? likewise our\nnotions of honour, which, in its exaggerated state, resembles their\ndeath songs, would not resist metaphysical arguments, if ever\nmetaphysics became our sole guide in morality; for after having analyzed\nthe motives of our most important obligations, we should analyze also\nour fine-spun sentiment, which makes us regardless of danger. Yes, if\nrespect for religion was absolutely destroyed; if this simple opinion,\nwhich carries with it so many obligations, and serves to defend so many\nduties, had no other support, the idea of honour would soon be weakened;\nand our personal interest, insensibly disengaged from all the ties of\nthe imagination, would take a character so rude, and so determined, that\nour habitual impressions, and our relation with others, would be\nabsolutely changed.\n\nPermit me then to make another reflection: it will be always easy to\nsubject men to a governing opinion, when they themselves, and those who\ngovern them, unite al their efforts to attain the same end; but, if this\ngoverning opinion is not, like religion, the general principle of our\nconduct; if it cannot give us laws in the different situations of life,\nit would serve only to throw us out of an equilibrium, or at least its\nutility would be partial and momentary\u00b7 Nevertheless, if, with a design\nof remedying this inconvenience, we searched to multiply these opinions,\nthey would weaken each other; for every time we wish strongly to\nrestrain the imagination, it is necessary that a single idea, a single\nauthority, a single object of interest, should engage the attention of\nmen. Perfection, in this respect, is the choice of a single principle,\nwhose consequence extends to all; and such is the particular merit of\nreligious opinions.\n\nWe can then, in the name of reason, of policy, and philosophy, demand\nsome respect for them; and I ought to repeat, since it is time for me to\nresume my subject, that esteem or contempt, honour or shame, are so far\nfrom being able to supply the place of the active influence of religion,\nthat its sentiments confirm the opinion of the world, and, more or less,\nobviously direct it. It follows, that we should soon reason shrewdly, on\nthe value which we ought to set on the esteem of the world, if the\nexpression of its approbation was not united in our contemplation to\nsomething more noble than the judgment of mankind, and if an awful\nrespect for virtue was not imbibed by means of a religious education. We\nshould soon experience that, in wishing to found every thing on the\ncalculations of worldly wisdom, these same calculations would destroy\nall; and morality having at once lost its grand support, we should try\nin vain to prop it by a scaffold of laws, and the vain efforts of an\nopinion without a guide. Hypocrisy and dissimulation would become\nimmediately a necessary science, a legitimate defence, which would weary\nthe attention of every inspector; and testimonies of esteem appearing\nonly an ingenious encouragement granted to the sacrifices of\nselfishness, the applause decreed to a generous mode of conduct would be\ninsensibly discredited by those who gave and by those who received them,\nand would end, perhaps, in becoming a secret object of derision, as mere\nplay from one to another.\n\nEvery thing is replaced and firmly established by religion; it\nsurrounds, I may say, the whole system of morality, resembling that\nuniversal and mysterious force of physical nature, which retains the\nplanets in their orbits, and subjects them to a regular revolution; and\nwhich, in the midst of the general order it maintains, escapes the\nobservation of men, and appears to their feeble sight unconscious of its\nown work.\n\n\n\n\n                               CHAP. III.\n    _An Objection drawn from our natural Dispositions to Goodness._\n\n\nMen, according to the opinion of some, have received from nature a\nsecret tendency towards every thing just, good, and virtuous; and from\nthis happy inclination, the task of the moralist is confined to prevent\nthe alteration of our original constitution: an easy task, add they, and\nwhich may be fulfilled without any extraordinary effort, and without\nhaving recourse to religion.\n\nWe ought, at first, to observe, that the existence of this excellent\ninnate goodness has been a long time a subject of debate, as every\nassertion always will be, of which we cannot demonstrate the truth,\neither by argument or experience. We shall never be able to perceive\ndistinctly the natural dispositions of men, since, to our view, they are\nnever separated from the improvement, or the modification, which they\nowe to education and habit. One or two examples they produce of children\narrived at maturity found in a forest; but we are ignorant at what\nprecise age they were abandoned by their parents, and what might have\nbeen their dispositions, if, brought back to society, they had not been\nguided by instruction, or restrained by fear and subordination. It is\nnot very probable, that man derived from his original nature all the\ndispositions which lead to goodness; such a thought agrees not with his\npride or dignity, since the intellectual faculties with which he is\nendowed, the power he has of gradually tending to perfection, announce\nto him that he ought to fulfil his career with the assistance of reason,\nand that, very different from those beings governed by an invariable\ninstinct, he should elevate himself as much above them, by cultivating\nthe abilities entrusted to him, as by the granduer of the destiny to\nwhich he is permitted to aspire.\n\nReason, however, our faithful guide, would be insufficient to attach us\nto sentiments of order, justice, and beneficence, if it was not seconded\nby a nature proper to receive the impression of every noble sentiment;\nbut such reflections, far from favouring any system of independence or\nimpiety, receive from religious opinions their principal force. What is,\nin effect, in this respect the course of our thoughts? We attribute, at\nfirst, to a Supreme and Universal Being all the perfections which seem\nto constitute his essence; and from this principle we are led to\npresume, that we, his intelligent creatures, and his most noble work,\nparticipate, in some manner, of the Divine spirit, of which we are an\nemanation: but, if we could ever be persuaded, that our confidence in\nthe idea of a God is a deceitful illusion, we should not have any reason\nto believe that the mere child of nature, blind and without a guide,\nwould be disposed to good, rather than evil. We must derive our opinion\nof innate goodness from a secret sentiment, and from a perfect\nconviction of the existence of a power which keeps every thing in order,\nthe model of all perfection: but, as we obtain equally from this power,\nthe faculties which render us capable of acquiring knowledge, of\nimproving by experience, of extending our views into futurity, and\nelevating our thoughts to God; we should not know how to distinguish\nthese last expedients of ability and virtue from those which belong to\nour first instinct; and we have no interest in doing it.\n\nThat which we perceive most clearly is, that there is a correspondence,\na harmony between all the parts of our moral nature; and therefore we\ncannot deny the existence of our natural inclination towards goodness,\nnor consider this inclination as a disposition which has not need of any\nreligious sentiment to acquire strength, and become a rational conductor\nthrough the rough road of life. The production of salutary fruits\nrequires, before all things, a favourable soil; but this advantage would\nbe useless without seed and the labour of the husbandman, and the\nfertilizing warmth of the sun: the Author of Nature has thought fit that\na great number of causes should concur continually to renovate the\nproductions of the earth; and the same intention, the same plan, seems\nto have determined the principle and the developement of all the gifts\nof the mind: it is necessary, in order to attach intelligent beings to\nthe love of virtue, and respect for morality, that not only happy\nnatural dispositions, but still more, a judicious education, good laws,\nand, above all, a continual intercourse with the Supreme Being, from\nwhich alone can arise firm resolutions, and every ardent thought, should\nconcur; but men ambitious of submitting a great number of relations to\ntheir weak comprehension, would wish to confine them to a few causes. We\nshall discover, every moment, the truth of this observation; actuated by\na similar motive, many wish to attribute every thing to education;\nwhilst others pretend, that our natural dispositions are the only source\nof our actions and intentions, of our vices and virtues. Perhaps, in\nfact, there is, in the universe, but one expedient and spring, one\nprolific idea, the root of every other: yet, as it is at the origin of\nthis idea, and not in its innumerable developements, that its unity can\nbe perceived, the first grand disposer of nature: only ought to be in\npossession of the secret; and we, who see, of the immense mechanism of\nthe world, but a few wheels, become almost ridiculous, when we make\nchoice sometimes of one, and sometimes of another, to refer to it\nexclusively, the cause of motion, and the simplest properties of the\ndifferent parts of the natural or moral world.\n\n\n\n\n                               CHAP. IV.\n  _An Objection drawn from the good Conduct of many irreligious Men._\n\n\nYou may think, perhaps, after having read the preceding chapter, that I\nhave taken little room to treat a question on which so much has been\nwritten; but if it be allowed that I have made some approaches to truth,\nI shall not need any excuse. The researches after truth resemble those\ncircles which we trace sometimes one round another; the furthest from\nthe centre has necessarily the greatest extent.\n\nI will then endeavour, with the same brevity, to examine the objection\nwhich is to make the subject of this chapter.\n\nSociety, some say, is at present filled with persons, who, to borrow the\nexpression of the times, are absolutely disengaged from every kind of\nprejudice, who believe not even the existence of a Supreme Being; and\nyet, their conduct appears as regular as that of the most religious men.\n\nBefore replying to this objection I ought to make an important\nobservation. The detractors of a religious spirit habitually confound,\nin their discourse, devotion and piety; they attribute besides to\ndevotion an exaggerated sense, which its natural definition will not\nbear; and derive from this misconception a great advantage. Piety,\nsimple in its sentiments and deportment, commonly escapes the heedless\nglance of a man of the world; and the greater part of those who speak of\nit, would have some difficulty to delineate it well; devotion, on the\ncontrary, such as we are accustomed to represent, seems to attach some\nvalue to appearances; it displays itself, it makes a parade of the\nausterity of its principles; and often soured by the sacrifices, of the\nconstraint, which it has imposed on itself as a law, it contracts a\nrough and inflexible spirit, which banishes sentiment, amiable and\nindulgent: in short, devotion is sometimes mixed with hypocrisy, and\nthen it is only a despicable assemblage of the most contemptible vices.\nIt is easy to judge, from these two pictures, that judicious piety,\nrational and indulgent, forms the true characteristic of a religious\nspirit, considered in its purity. It is then with morality, inspired by\na like spirit, that it is necessary to compare those men, who are guided\nonly by the principles they frame to themselves; and I believe, that one\nof these two systems of morality is far superior to the other; but we\nrun a risk of deceiving ourselves in our observations, when we do not\nextend them beyond the narrow circle, known amongst us by the name of\n_society_. Men, in the circumscribed relations which arise from the\ncommunications of idleness and dissipation, require of each other, only\nqualities applicable to these kind of relations; their code of laws is\nvery short, integrity in the commerce of life, constancy in friendship,\nor, at least, politeness in our intercourse, a kind of elevation in\ntheir discourse and manner; in short, probity is the grand outline; and\nthis is all that is required, in order to display ourselves to the best\nadvantage in the midst of the active scenes which surround us, where we\nsometimes form a confederacy proper to serve as a support of the great\nvirtues; but what they wish for before every thing is, a grant of\nindulgence in favour of vices, which do not disturb the order or the\npeace of their pleasures, and which only render unhappy parents,\nhusbands, and creditors, vassals and the commonalty. Far distant,\nindeed, from a like tolerance, are those collective obligations which\nmorality dictates, obligations, of which I made a concise sketch, when I\ncompared them with those which are imposed by civil laws. It is then\nonly, after having retraced ourselves the entire system of our duties,\nit is only after having compared them with the conventions softened by\nfashionable society, that we are in a state to judge, if the conduct of\npersons, disengaged from every religious tie, ought to be given as an\nexample, and if their morality can suffice for all the circumstances of\nlife.\n\nBut in admitting, for a moment, this supposition, we should not have a\nright to draw any deduction contrary to the truths, which I have\nendeavoured to establish; for all those who free themselves at a certain\nage, from the yoke of religion, have been at least prepared by it to\nrespect virtue. Principles inculcated early in life, have a great\ninfluence on the human heart, a long time even after our understanding\nhas rejected the reasoning which served as the basis of those\nprinciples: the soul, formed when the reason begins to dawn, to the love\nof order, and sustained in this disposition by the force of habit, never\nentirely loses this principle. So that, whatever be the opinions adopted\nwhen the judgment is formed, it is slowly, and by degrees, that these\nopinions act on the character and direct the conduct. Besides, while\nreligion maintains amongst the greater number of men, a profound respect\nfor morality, those who reject these sentiments know, nevertheless, that\nprobity leads to esteem, and to the various advantages which depend on\nit. Of course, a virtuous atheist merely makes us recollect, that he\nlives where virtue is respected; and it is not the inefficacy, but, on\nthe contrary, the indirect influence of religious opinions, which his\nconduct demonstrates to me. I think I see, in a beautiful piece of\nmechanism, a small part broken off from the chain, and which maintains\nits place, by the force still subsisting of general equilibrium.\n\nWhat! would you have need of religion to be an honest man? Here is an\ninterrogative, with which they hope to embarrass those who wish to\npreserve to morality its best support; and the dread that some have of\nnot giving an honourable idea of their sentiments, induces them to reply\nwith quickness, that certainly they should not need the check of\nreligion, and that the dictates of their heart would always be\nsufficient to direct them. This answer is undoubtedly very respectable;\nbut for my part, I avow, I should merely say, that virtue has so many\ncharms, when it has been a long time practised, that a truly sensible\nman would continue to be just, even when every religious sentiment was\nannihilated; but that it is uncertain whether, with a political\neducation, his principles might have been the same; and I should add\nfurther, that no one, perhaps, could be certain, that he would have\nsufficient strength to resist a revolution of ideas similar to those\nthat we have just supposed, were he to fall at the same time into a\nstate of misery and dejection, which would make him revolt at the\nenjoyments and the triumphs of others. It is always in a like situation,\nthat it is necessary to place ourselves, to judge properly of certain\nquestions; for all those who enjoy the favours of fortune, have, in\nconsequence of this fortunate condition, fewer objects of envy, and are\nless subject to temptations; and in the midst of the different comforts,\nwhich peaceably surround them, it is not the principles of others of\nwhich they know the want.\n\nAs for philosophical writers, if it were amongst them, that we are to\nsearch for the principal defenders of the new opinions, and if, at the\nsame time, their moral conduct was cited as an example, we should have\nto observe, that a retired life, love of study, and a constant habit of\nreflection, ought to spread a kind of calm over their sentiments;\nbesides, delivered up to abstraction, or preoccupied by general ideas,\nthey know not all the passions, and they are seldom personally engaged\nin those ardent pursuits which stimulate society. They cannot then\ndetermine, with certainty, what would have been the degree of their\nresisting force, if without any other defensive arms than their\nprinciples, and no guide but convenience, they had to combat against the\nallurements of fortune and ambition, which present themselves in every\nstep of our worldly career. They have also, like all the inventors and\nthe propagators of a new system, vanity, which engages them to multiply\nthe number of their disciples: and how, in fact, could they be able to\nflatter themselves with any success, if, in attacking the most\nrespectable opinions, they had not endeavoured to prove that their\ndoctrines were not in opposition to morality. Besides, it is very\nnecessary, after having silently sapped the foundation of our dwelling,\nthat they support for some time the edifice, were it only while they\nhave with us a common habitation; were it only during the interval when\nwe should be able to judge in their presence, of the utility of their\ninstructions: in short, very often, perhaps, the dupes of their own\nheart, they have been induced to believe that, because they were at the\nsame time irreligious by system, and just by character and habit,\nreligion and virtue have not a necessary union; and if it is true, that\nin the grand interests of life, the slightest doubt has some influence\non our actions, would it be possible, that at the time when they would\nseek to shake religious opinions, even when they are ridiculed in\nconversation, that they would still endeavour to preserve a secret\nconnexion with them, by the propriety of their conduct? It is thus that,\nin the disputes of princes, or in the quarrels of ministers, the members\nof the same family have sometimes the art of dividing themselves, in\norder, at all events, that one of their friends should be in each party.\n\nThese different reflections ought necessarily to be taken into\nconsideration, before we give ourselves up to the inferences that they\nwould wish to draw from the manners of irreligious men; but, to\ndiscredit their arguments, it is sufficient to observe, that we cannot\nmake any application of them to the most numerous class of men: honest\natheists have never existed among the commonalty, religion comprehends\nall their knowledge in morality; and if once they were to lose this\nguide, their conduct would be absolutely dependent on chance and\ncircumstances.\n\nIt is still essential to observe, that, according to the motives to\nwhich we can attribute the relaxation of moral principles, there exists\na great difference between the various characters which attend vicious\nactions: a depraved man, though religious, does wrong by accident,\nthrough weakness, and according to the successive transports of his\npassions; but the wicked atheist has not a fixed time; opportunities do\nnot surprise him, he searches for them, or waits for them with\nimpatience; he yields not through the contagion of imitation; but he\ntakes pleasure in setting an example; he is not a corrupt fruit, he is\nhimself the tree of evil.\n\nAnother objection is raised, but of a very different kind: they point\nout the contrast, frequently perceived, between the conduct and the\nreligious sentiments of the greater part of men; an opposition from\nwhence they would wish to conclude, that these sentiments are not a\ncertain safeguard: and they add, to support their argument, that in\nexamining the belief of all those, whose licentious life is terminated\nby an ignomious death, we perceive that the greater number is composed\nof people blindly subject to religious opinions.\n\nUndoubtedly, these opinions form not, at all times, a complete\nresistance to the different starts of our passions; but it suffices,\nthat they may be the most efficacious. There has been, and there ever\nwill be, vicious men in the bosom of society, even where religion has\nthe greatest influence; for it acts not on us like a mechanical force,\nby weights, levers, and springs, of which we can calculate exactly the\npower; it is not an arbitrary modification of our nature; but we are\nenlightened, guided, and animated, according to our dispositions and\nsensibility, and according to the degree of our own efforts in the\nnumerous conflicts which we have to sustain; it would be then an evident\npiece of treachery, to attack religion, by drawing a picture of the\nvices and crimes, from which it has not been able to guard society,\ninstead of fixing our attention on all the disorders which it checks or\nprevents.\n\nThey would be equally wrong, who represent the general languor of\nreligion, as a proof that it has, in our time, very little influence on\nmorality; it would be necessary rather to remark, how great must have\nbeen that power, which even in the decline of its force is still\nsufficient to concur to the maintenance of public order; we should be\nauthorized to say, how valuable is the whole, when we receive so much\nadvantage from a part?\n\nIn short, the consequence that they would wish to draw from the\nopinions, and from the faith of wretches sinking under the sword of\njustice, in an abuse of reasoning: men termed religious, forming the\nmajor part of the populace, we must among them necessarily meet the\ngreater number of malefactors; in the same manner that we are sure to\nfind, in this class, more men of a particular age, stature, or\ncomplexion; but, if they have a right to use such an argument to censure\na religious education, they might, with the same reason, contest the\nsalubrity of breast milk, alledging, that many sick and dying persons\nhave received this nourishment. We should never confound a common\ncircumstance with a general cause; these are two ideas absolutely\ndistinct.\n\nThere are other objections which equally deserve to be discussed; but\nthey will find a place, with more propriety, after the chapter where, I\nshall examine, under different heads, the influence of religious\nopinions on our happiness. You have seen, and you will perceive still\nmore, in the progress of this work, that I do not endeavour to elude\ndifficulties; for before I determined to defend, according to my\nabilities, a cause which I could wish to render dear to mankind, I\ncarefully studied the means; and after having fortified myself against\nthe systems opposite to my sentiments, I fear not to examine the motives\nwhich serve to support them.\n\n\n\n\n                                CHAP. V.\n       _The Influence of Religious Principles on our Happiness._\n\n\nAs we have shown the close connexion of morality with religious\nopinions, we have already pointed out the principal relation of these\nopinions with public good, since the repose and interior tranquillity of\nsociety essentially depend on the maintenance of civil order, and the\nexact observance of the laws of justice. But a great part of human\nhappiness does not arise from the community: thus, the benefits religion\nimparts would be very imperfect, if they were not extended to our most\nintimate sentiments, if they were not useful in those secret conflicts\nof different affections which agitate our souls, and which pre-occupy\nour thoughts. Religion is very far from deserving this reproach; that\nwhich raises it indeed above every kind of legislation is, that it\ninfluences equally public good and private happiness. We ought to\nexamine this truth; but to do it philosophically, we must necessarily\ncontemplate, and pry into our nature, and examine, for a moment, into\nthe first causes of the enjoyments or the anxieties of our minds.\n\nMen, when they have advanced a few steps in the world, and as soon as\ntheir intellectual faculties begin to open, extend their views, and live\nin the future; sensual pleasures and bodily pain only detain them in the\npresent; but in the long intervals which exist between the renewal of\nthese sensations, it is by anticipation and memory that they are happy\nor miserable; and recollection is only interesting, as it is perceived\nto keep up the connexion between the past and future. Undoubtedly, the\ninfluence of the future, on all our moral affections, escapes often our\nnotice; to cite some examples of this truth, we believe, that only the\npresent moment produces happiness, when we receive elogiums, obtain some\nmark of distinction, or are informed of an unexpected augmentation of\nour fortune; and still more, when we are pleased with the sport of our\nimagination, or the discoveries of our reason in our closet or in\nconversation. These enjoyments, and many others similar, we call present\nhappiness; though there is not any one of them which does not owe its\nvalue, and even reality, to the single idea of futurity. In fact,\nrespect, applause, the triumphs of self-love, the forerunners of fame,\nand even fame itself, are the acquisitions which education and habit\nhave rendered precious, in exhibiting always beyond them some other\nadvantage, of which these first were only the symbols. Often, indeed,\nthe last object of our ambition is but an enjoyment of opinion, the\nconfused image of some possession more real. Every where we see vague\nhopes hurry away our imagination; we see the expected good, the\nimmediate end of our meditation, or the obscure motive of the estimation\nwe annex to the various satisfactions, of which our present happiness is\ncomposed. Thus, indirectly, and almost unknown to ourselves, all is in\nperspective in our moral existence; and it is by this reasoning that,\nalways deluded, we are seldom perfectly deceived. Subjected by long\nhabit, it is in vain that we would wish to separate the imaginary\nadvantages of opinion from the delusions of hope which surround them,\nand by which we have been seduced all our life.\n\nThere is but a small part of the moral system, which we cannot make\nagree with this manner of explaining the principal cause of our\npleasures and of our pains. I am very far, however, from wishing to make\nthe sentiments, which unite men by the charm of friendship, depend on\nthe same principle; and which have such an essential influence on their\nhappiness. All is real in these affections, since they are a simple\nassociation of ourselves to others, and them to us; in this view it may\nbe considered as, in some measure, prolonging our own existence; but\nthis division, so intimate, of the good and evil of life, does not\ndestroy their essence. Friendship doubles our pleasures and our\ncomforts; and it is by the close alliance of two sympathizing souls that\nwe are fortified against all events; but it is always with the same\npassions that it is necessary to combat; thus whether we remain\nsolitary, or live in others, the future preserves its influence over us.\n\nIf such is, however, our moral nature, that the object of our wishes\nwill always be at some distance; if our thoughts, like the course of the\nwaves, are ever active, and pressing forward; if our present enjoyments\nhave a secret tie with the imaginary advantages of opinion, of which the\nlast term is still a fleeting shadow; in short, if all is future in the\nfate of man; with what interest, with what love, with what respect,\nought we not to consider this beautiful system of hope, of which\nreligious opinions are the majestic foundation! What encouragement they\npresent! What an end to all other ends! What a grand and precious idea,\nby its connexion with the most intimate and general sentiment, the\ndesire of prolonging our existence! That which men dread most, is the\nimage of an eternal annihilation; the absolute destruction of all the\nfaculties which compose their being, is for them the downfall of the\nwhole universe; and they are anxious to seek for a refuge against this\noverwhelming thought.\n\nUndoubtedly, it is according to nature, according to the degree of\nstrength of their religious opinions, that men seize with more or less\nconfidence the hopes which they give, and the recompense they promise;\nbut, doubt and obscurity have a powerful action, while supreme happiness\nis the object; for even in the affairs of this life, the grandeur of the\nprize offered to our ambition excites still more our ardour, than the\nprobability of success. But where should we fix, where attach the\nslightest hope, if even the idea of a God, this first prop of religion,\nwas ever destroyed; if, from the infancy of men, we did not present to\ntheir reflection, that worldly considerations are as transient as\nthemselves; and if, early in life, they were humbled in their own eyes;\nif men applied themselves to stifle the internal sentiments, which\ninform them of the spirituality of their souls? Discouraged in this\nmanner, by the first principles of their education, slackened in all the\nmovements which carry thier reflections into futurity, they would often\ntake retrospective views: the past recalling an irreparable loss, would\ntoo much captivate their attention; and their minds, in the midst of\ntime, would no more be in a necessary equilibrium to enjoy the present\nmoment; in short, this moment, which is not, in reality, but an\nimperceptible fraction, would appear almost nothing to our eyes, if it\nwere not united in our contemplations, to the unknown number of days and\nyears which are before us. It is then, because that there is nothing\nlimited in the ideas of happiness and duration, with which religious\nsentiments impress us, that our imagination is not forced to recoil on\nitself, when it is insensibly lost in the immensity of futurity.\n\nWhen, in following the course of a noble river, a vast horizon is\npresented to our view, we turn not our observation on the sandy banks we\nare coasting: but if, changing our situation, or twilight narrowing this\nhorizon, our attention was turned on the barren flat we are near; then\nonly we should remark all its dryness and sterility. It is the same in\nthe career of life: when the grand ideas of infinity elevate our\nthoughts and our hopes, we are less affected by the weariness and\ndifficulties strewed in our path; but, if changing our principles, a\ngloomy philosophy were to obscure our perspective, our whole attention\ndrawn back on the surrounding objects, we should then very distinctly\ndiscover the void and illusion of the satisfactions of which our moral\nnature is susceptible.\n\nLet us recollect, then, all the happiness which we owe to religious\nsentiments and obvious reflections, which, in attracting us continually\ntowards the future, seem willing to save from the present moment the\npurest part of ourselves; these are, without our perceiving it, the\nenchantments of the moral world; if it were possible that, by cold\nreasoning, we at length destroyed them, a sad melancholy would ally\nitself to most of our reflections; and it would seem as if a\nwinding-sheet had taken place of that transparent veil, through which\nthe prospects of life are embellished. Undoubtedly, there would be still\nsome charm in the days of youth, when the pleasures of the senses press\non us, and fill a considerable time; but when the passions are tempered\nby age, when our strength has been broken by years, or prematurely\nattacked by sickness; in short, when the time is arrived, when men are\nconstrained to seek, in the principles of morality, the chief support of\ntheir happiness; what would become of them, if those hopes and opinions\nwere dissipated, which afford solid comfort and encouragement; and if an\nimagination, thus active, were weakened, which enlivens all the objects\nthat anticipation can reach?\n\nReflect, then, with attention, on the different consequences which would\nbe the fatal train of the annihilation of religious opinions; it is not\na single idea, a single view, that men would lose; it would be, besides,\nthe interest and the charm of all their desires and ambition. There is\nnothing indifferent, when our actions and designs can be in any respect\nattached to a duty; there is nothing indifferent, when the exercise and\nthe improvement of our faculties appear the commencement of an\nexistence, whose termination is unknown: but, when this period offers\nitself on all sides to our view, when we approach it every moment, what\nstrong illusion would be sufficient to defend us from a sad despondency?\nStrictly circumscribed in the space of life, its limits would be in such\na manner present to our mind, to every sentiment and enterprize perhaps,\nthat we should be tempted to examine, what it is which can merit, on our\npart, an assiduous research; what it is which deserves close and painful\napplication. Indeed, fame itself, which is called immortal, would no\nmore hurry us on in the same manner, if we had a secret conviction, that\nit cannot grow, rise, subsist, but in such portions of space, and such\ndurations of time, as our imagination cannot conceive. It is necessary,\nthat the uncertain future be still our country, in order that we should\nbe able to feel that unquiet love of a long celebrity, and those ardent\nimpulses towards great things which is the salutary effect of it.\n\nWe deceive ourselves then, I think, when we accuse religion of\nnecessarily rendering the business and the pleasures of the world\nuninteresting; its chief pleasures, on the contrary, are derived from\nreligion, from those ideas of eternity, which it presents to our mind,\nwhich serve to sustain the enchantments of hope, and the sense of those\nduties of which our moral nature is ingeniously composed.\n\nReligious opinions are perfectly adapted to our nature, to our\nweaknesses and perfections; they come to our succour in our real\ndifficulties, and in those which the abuse of our foresight creates. But\nin what is grand and elevated in our nature, it sympathizes most: for,\nif men are animated by noble thoughts; if they respect their\nintelligence, their chief ornament; if they are interested about the\ndignity of their nature, they will fly, with transport, to bow before\nreligion, which ennobles their faculties, preserves their strength of\nmind, and which, through its sentiments, unites them to Him, whose power\nastonishes their understanding. It is then that, considering themselves\nas an emanation of the Infinite Being, the commencement of all things,\nthey will not let themselves be drawn aside by a philosophy, whose sad\nlessons tend to persuade us, that reason, liberty, all this immaterial\nessence of ourselves, is the mere result of a fortuitous combination,\nand an harmony without intelligence.\n\nWe have never perhaps observed, with sufficient attention, the different\nkinds of happiness which would be destroyed, or at least sensibly\nweakened, if this discouraging doctrine was ever propagated.\n\nWhat would then become of the most sublime of all sentiments, that of\nadmiration, if, instead of the grand view of the universe, far from\nreviving the idea of a Supreme Being, we retraced only a vast existence,\nbut without design, cause, or destination; and if the astonishment of\nour minds was itself but one of the spontaneous accidents of blind\nmatter?\n\nWhat would become of the pleasure which we find in the developement,\nexercise, and progress of our faculties, if this intelligence, of which\nwe love to glory, was only the result of chance, and if all our ideas\nwere but a mere obedience to the eternal law of motion; if our liberty\nwas but a fiction, and if we had not, if I may say so, any possession of\nourselves?\n\nWhat would become then of that active spirit of curiosity, whose charm\nexcites us to observe continually the wonders with which we are\nsurrounded, and which inspires, at the same time, the desire of\npenetrating, in some measure, into the mystery of our existence, and the\nsecret of our origin? Certainly it would little avail us to study the\ncourse of nature, if this science could only teach us to comprehend the\nafflicting particulars of our mechanical slavery: a prisoner cannot be\npleased to draw the form of his fetters, or reckon the links of his\nchains.\n\nBut how beautiful is the world, when it is represented to us as the\nresult of a single and grand thought, and when we find every where the\nstamp of an eternal intelligence; and how pleasing to live with the\nsentiments of astonishment and adoration deeply impressed on our hearts!\n\nBut what a subject of glory are the endowments of the mind, when we can\nconsider them as a participation of a sublime nature, of which God alone\nis the perfect model. And how delightful then to yield to the ambition\nof elevating ourselves still more, by exercising our thoughts and\nimproving all our faculties!\n\nIn short, how many charms has the observation of nature, when, at every\nnew discovery, we believe we advance a step towards an acquaintance with\nthat exalted wisdom which has prescribed laws to the universe, and\nmaintains it in harmony! It is then, and only then, that the study is\ntruly interesting, and the progress of knowledge becomes an increase of\nhappiness. Yes, under the influence of opinions, arising from the\nnotions of materialists, all is languishing in our curiosity, all is\nmere instinct in our admiration, all is fictitious in the sentiments\nwhich we have of ourselves; but with the idea of a God, all is lively,\nall is reasonable and true: in short, this happy and prolific idea\nappears as necessary to the moral nature of man, as heat is to plants\nand to all the vegetable world. You may think, perhaps, that in\nexamining the influence of religion on happiness, I have dwelt on\nseveral considerations, which are not of equal importance to all men;\nthere are, indeed, some more particularly adapted to that part of\nsociety, whose minds are improved by education; but I am very far from\nwishing to divert a moment my attention from the numerous class of the\ninhabitants of the earth, whose happiness and misery arises from a\nsimple idea, proportioned to the extent of their interests and\nreflections.\n\nThose who seem to have a more pressing and constant need of the\nassistance of religion, have been left by the misfortunes of their\nparents to the wide world, devoid of property, and deprived also of\nthose resources which depend on education. This class of men, condemned\nto hard labour, are, as it were, confined in a rough and uniformly\nbarren path, where every day resembles the last, where they have not any\nconfused expectations, or flattering illusion to divert them: they know\nthat there is a wall of separation between them and fortune; and if they\ncarried their views in life forward, they would only discover the\ndreadful state any infirmity would reduce them to; and the deplorable\nsituation to which they might be exposed, by the cruel neglect which\nattends old age. With what transport, in this situation, would they not\ncatch at the comfortable hopes which religion presents! With what\nsatisfaction would they not learn, that after this probationary state,\nwhere so much disproportion overwhelmed them, there would come a time of\nequality! What would be their complaints, if they were to renounce a\nsentiment which still conforms itself, for their advantage, to a general\nidea, the only one, in short, of which they can make use in all events\nand circumstances of life. It is God\u2019s will, they say to themselves, and\nthis first thought supports their resignation: God will recompense you,\nGod will return it to you, say they to others, when they receive alms;\nand these words remind them, that the God of the rich and powerful is\nalso theirs; and that far from being indifferent to their fate, He\ndeigns Himself to discharge their obligations.\n\nHow many other popular expressions continually recal the same sentiment\nof confidence and consolation. It is this continual relation of the poor\nwith the Deity which raises them in their own eyes, and which prevents\ntheir sinking under the weight of contempt with which they are\noppressed, and gives them sometimes courage to resist the pride of\nearthly greatness. What grander effect could be produced by an idea so\nsimple? Thus, among the different things which characterise religion, I\nremark, above all, what seems more particularly the seal of a divine\nhand; it is, that the moral advantages, of which religion is the source,\nresembling the grand blessings of nature, belong equally to all men; and\nas the sun, in the distribution of its rays, observes neither rank nor\nfortune, in the same way those comforting sentiments, which are\nconnected with the conception of a Supreme Being, and the hopes united\nto it, become the property of the poor as well as the rich, of the weak\nas well as the powerful, and can be as securely enjoyed under the lowly\nroof of a cottage, as in a superb palace. It is civil laws which\nincrease, or give a sanction to the inequality of possessions; and it is\nreligion which sweetens the bitterness of this hard disproportion.\n\nWe could not avoid feeling a compassion as painful as well founded, if,\nin considering attentively the fate of the greater number of men, we\nsupposed them all at one stroke deprived of the only thought which\nsupported their courage; they would no more have a God to confide their\nsorrows with; they would no more attend his ordinances to search for the\nsentiments of resignation and tranquillity; they would have no motive\nfor raising their looks to heaven; their eyes would be cast down, fixed\nfor ever on this abode of grief, of death, and eternal silence. Then\ndespair would even stifle their groans, and all their reflections\npreying on themselves, would only serve to corrode their hearts; then\nthose tears which they have a satisfaction in shedding, and which are\nattracted by the tender persuasion, that there exists some where\ncommiseration and goodness, these consoling tears would no more moisten\ntheir eyes.\n\nWho has not seen, sometimes, those veteran soldiers, who are prostrate\nhere and there on the pavement of a sanctuary, erected in the midst of\ntheir august retreat? Their hair, which time has whitened; their\nforehead marked with honourable scars; that tottering step, which age\nonly could impress on them, all inspire at first respect; but by what\nsentiments are we not affected, when we see them lift up and join with\ndifficulty their weak hands, to invoke the God of the universe, of their\nheart and mind; when we see them forget, in this interesting devotion,\ntheir present pains and past griefs; when we see them rise with a\ncountenance more serene, and expressive of the tranquillity and hope\ndevotion has infused through their souls. Complain not in those moments,\nyou who judge of the happiness of this world only from its enjoyments;\ntheir looks are humbled, their body trembles, and death awaits their\nsteps; but this inevitable end, whose image only terrifies us, they see\ncoming without alarm; they, through religion, have approached Him who is\ngood, who can do every thing, whom none ever loved without receiving\ncomfort. Come and contemplate this sight, you who despise religion, you\nwho term yourselves superior; come and see the real value of your\npretended knowledge for promoting happiness. Change the fate of men, and\ngive them all, if you can, some portion of the enjoyments of life, or\nrespect a sentiment which serves them to repulse the injuries of\nfortune; and since even the policy of tyrants has never dared to destroy\nit, since their power would be insufficient to enable them to succeed in\nthe savage attempt, you, to whom nature has given superior endowments,\nbe not more cruel, more inexorable than they; or if, by a pitiless\ndoctrine, you wish to deprive the old, the sick, and the indigent, of\nthe only idea of happiness which they can apply to, go from prison to\nprison, and to those dreary cells, where the wretched prisoners struggle\nwith their chains, and shut with your own hands, if you have the heart\nto do it, the only aperture through which any ray of light can reach\nthem.\n\nIt is not, however, a single class of society which derives an habitual\nassistance from religion, it is all those who have to complain of the\nabuse of authority, of public injustice, and the different vicissitudes\nof their fate; it is the innocent man who is condemned, the virtuous man\nwho is slandered, the man who has once acted inconsistently, and been\ncensured with too much rigour; all those, in short, who, convinced of\nthe purity of their own conscience, seek for, above all, a secret\nwitness of their intentions, and an enlightened judge of their conduct.\n\nA man of an exalted character, endowed with sensibility of heart,\nexperiences also the necessity of forming to himself an image of an\nunknown Being, to which he can unite all the ideas of perfection which\nfill his imagination; it is to Him that he refers those different\nsentiments, which are useless amidst the corruptions which surround him;\nit is in God alone that he can find an inexhaustible subject of\nastonishment and adoration; and with Him alone can he renew and purify\nhis sentiments, when he is wearied with the sight of the vices of the\nworld, and the habitual return of the same passions. In short, at every\ninstant the happy idea of a God softens and embellishes our path through\nlife, and by it we associate ourselves with delight to all the beauties\nof nature; by it every thing animated enters into communication with us;\nyes, the noise of the wind, the murmurs of the water, the peaceable\nagitation of plants, all serves to support, or melt our souls, provided\nthat our thoughts can rise to a universal cause, provided we can\ndiscover every where the works of Him whom we love, provided we can\ndistinguish the vestiges of His footsteps and the traces of His\nintentions; and, above all, if we can suppose, that we ourselves\ncontribute to the display of His power, and the splendour of His\ngoodness.\n\nBut it is principally over the enjoyments of friendship that piety\nspreads a new charm; bounds, limits, cannot agree with the sentiment\nwhich is as infinite as thought, it would not subsist, at least would be\ntroubled with continual anxiety; we should not consider without terror\nthe revolution of years and the rapid course of time, if those\nbenevolent opinions, which enlarge for us the future, did not come to\nour assistance. Thus, when we find ourselves separated from the objects\nof our affection, lonely meditations bring them back to aid the general\nidea of happiness, which, more or less, distinctly terminates our view;\nthen the tender melancholy, in which one is lost, is changed into\npleasing emotions: and you have, above all, need of those precious\nopinions, you, who, timid in a bustling world, or discouraged by\ndisappointments, find yourself a solitary wanderer on the earth, because\nyou partake not of the passions which agitate the greater part of\nmankind! You want a friend, and you only see pecuniary associations; you\nwant a comforter, and you only see the ambitious, strangers to all those\nwho have not power or a distinguished reputation; a tender confident is\nat least necessary, and the active scenes of society disperses the\naffections and diminishes every interest. In short, when you have this\nfriend, this confident, this comforter; when you have acquired it by the\nmost tender union; when you live in a son, a husband, or a cherished\nwife, what other idea, but that of a God, can come to your relief, when\nthe frightful image of a separation presents itself to your thoughts? It\nis, indeed, in such moments that we embrace with transport all those\nopinions which tend to foster the idea of continuity and duration? How\ngladly then we lend an ear to those words of comfort which are so\nperfectly consonant with the desires and the wants of our soul! What\nassociation of ideas, so frightful as that of the eternal annihilation\nof life and love? How can we unite to that soft division of interests\nand of sentiments, to that charm of our days; how can we unite to so\nmuch of existence and happiness, the internal persuasion and habitual\nimage of a death without hope, a destruction without return? How can we\noffer only the idea of oblivion to those affectionate minds, who have\ncentred all their self-love, all their ambition in the object of their\nesteem and tenderness; and who, after having renounced themselves, are,\nas it were, deposited entirely in the bosom of another, to subsist there\nby the same breath of life and the same destiny? In short, near the\ntomb, which, perhaps, they will one day bedew with their tears, how can\nthey pronounce the overwhelming words, forever!\u2014forever!\u2014Oh! horrors of\nhorrors, both for the mind and feelings! and if it be necessary that the\ncontemplations of a man of feeling approach a moment to the frightful\nconfines, let a benevolent cloud at least cover the dark abyss! Tears\nand sorrow still afford some comfort, when we give them to a beloved\nshade, when we can mix with our griefs the name of a God, and when this\nname appears to you the cement of all nature: but if in the universe all\nwas deaf to our voice; if no echoes were to repeat our plaints; if the\nshades of eternal darkness had hid from us the object of our love, and\nif they were advancing to drag us into the same night; if he is the most\nunhappy being, he who survives, and cannot even hope, that what death\nhas severed will again be united; if, when his whole soul was filled\nwith the recollection of a loved object, he could not say, he is in some\nplace, his heart so affectionate, his soul so pure and heavenly waits\nfor me, and calls me perhaps to be near that unknown Being, whom we\nhave, with common consent, adored; and if, instead of a thought so dear,\nit was necessary, without any doubt, to consider the earth as a\nsepulchre forever shut\u2014my heart dies within me\u2014unable to contend with\nthe dreadful images, the universe itself seems to dissolve, and\noverwhelm us in its downfall. O source of so many hopes, sublime idea of\na God! abandon not the man who has sensibility; Thou art his courage,\nThou art his futurity, Thou art his life; leave him not desolate, and,\nabove all, defend him from the ascendency of a barren and fatal\nphilosophy, which would afflict his heart by pretending to comfort it.\n\nWell, I make another effort, and I address myself to you, who boast of\nbeing enlightened by a fresh ray of wisdom. I am lost in the most\nprofound grief; a father, a mother, who guided me by their counsels, and\nwatched over me by their tenderness, these protecting parents have just\nbeen taken from me; a son, a daughter, both my comfort and pride, have\nbeen cut off in the prime of youth; a faithful companion, whose words,\nsentiments, and actions, were the support of my life, has vanished from\nmy arms;\u2014a moment of strength remains with me, I come to you, ye\nphilosophers; what have you to say?\u2014\u201cSeek for dissipation, turn your\nthoughts to some other object, an abyss not to be fathomed separates\nthee for ever from the objects of thy tenderness; and these\nrecollections, which pierce thee through with so many sorrows, they are\nonly a form of vegetation, the last play of organized matter.\u201d Alas!\nhave you ever loved, and can you pronounce tranquilly these cruel words!\nBanish far from me such consolations, I dread them more than my anguish.\nAnd thou, O daughter of heaven, lovely and mild religion, what wouldst\nthou say? Hope, hope; \u201cwhat God gave thee\u2014He can again restore.\u201d What a\ndifference between these two languages! One abases, the other exalts us!\nIt is left to men to choose, amongst their different guides, or rather\nto determine, whether they prefer darkness to light, death to life;\nwhether they prefer blighting winds to refreshing dews; the frost of\nwinter to the charms of spring; and the insensible stone to the most\nbrilliant gifts of animated nature.\n\nI will say it: the world, without the idea of a God, would be only a\ndesert, embellished by a few delusions;\u2014yet man, disenchanted by the\nlight of reason, would find nothing throughout but subjects of sadness.\nI have seen them, the dreams of ambition, the allurements of fame, and\nthe vain shews of grandeur; and even when the illusion was most\ndazzling, my heart always retired into itself, and was attracted to an\nidea more grand, to a consolation more substantial; I have experienced,\nthat the idea of the existence of a Supreme Being threw a charm over\nevery circumstance of life; I have found, that this sentiment alone was\nable to inspire men with true dignity: for every thing which is merely\npersonal is of little value, all that places some an inch high above\nothers; it is necessary, in order to have any reason to glory, that, at\nthe same time we exalt ourselves, we elevate human nature; we must refer\nit to that sublime intelligence, which seems to have dignified it with\nsome of its attributes. We then hardly perceive those trivial\ndistinctions which are attached to transitory things, on which vanity\nexercises her sway; it is then that we leave to this queen of the world\nher rattle and toys, and that we search elsewhere another portion; it is\nthen also that virtue, exalted sentiments, and grand views, appear the\nonly glory of which man ought to be jealous.\n\n\n\n\n                               CHAP. VI.\n  _The same Subject continued. The Influence of Virtue on Happiness._\n\n\nIt is not sufficient to have demonstrated, that religion, so necessary\nto feeling minds, agrees perfectly with the moral nature of men; it is\nstill necessary to observe, that the habitual exercise of virtue,\nenjoined as a duty in the name of God, is not in opposition with\nhappiness; and after having considered a truth so important, I will\nprove, that it is not contrary to what has been said in the first\nchapter of this work, on the impossibility of making men attentive to\npublic order, only by the motive of personal interest.\n\nWe cannot deny, that virtue often obliges us to conquer our appetites,\nand struggle with our passions; but if these conflicts, and the victory\nwhich attends them, lead to more solid and durable satisfactions, than\nthose which folly and vice portrays the image of, they would misconceive\nthe restrictions of morality, who perpetually united the idea of\nself-denial with that of a sacrifice.\n\nWe cannot fix our attention on the various objects of desire which\noccupy the thoughts of men, without seeing clearly, that if they\nabandoned themselves, unrestrained, to all their wild propensities, they\nwould often stray far from the state of happiness which forms the object\nof their wishes. Any of the blessings, strewed here and there in our\npath, cannot fill the void of life. Are they the gratifications of the\nsenses which captivate us? Their duration is determined by our weakness;\nand we cannot break loose from the immutable limits opposed by nature.\nAre they the advantages dependent on opinion that we look for, such as\nhonour and praise; or the exterior splendour, which fortune gives? You\nwill soon perceive, that quickly after they are obtained the charm is\nflown; they resemble Proteus in the fable, who only appeared a God at a\ndistance. Men then have more need than is supposed of an interest\nindependent of their senses and imagination; and this interest we find\nin the duties morality inculcates and establishes.\n\nIn all times, in all circumstances, we have a choice between good and\nevil: thus, virtue may be continually in a state of action, and we may\nfind the application of it even in the most apparently indifferent\nrelations of life, because virtue only has the privilege of connecting\nlittle things to a great object; and that it can only be encouraged by\nconscience, which, in accompanying all our actions and meditations,\nseems to augment our existence, and procure those satisfactions which\nare not known to the crowd who do not act from principle.\n\nSensual pleasures, the desires of vanity, the longings of ambition,\nwould soon extinguish themselves, if they were not fed by the continual\nactivity of society, which produces new scenes, and displays every\nmoment some changes of decoration. Virtue, satisfied with its views, has\nnot need of a succession of similar desires; its paths are varied, but\nthe end is ever the same.\n\nWe cannot search for the enjoyments of life in the imaginary advantages\nof opinion, without allowing others to construct the laws on which our\nhappiness is founded; and of course discord must result, which leaves us\na prey to every kind of emotion. Virtue has not any associates in her\ncounsels, she judges herself of all that is good; and in this respect a\nvirtuous man is the most independent of all beings, for it is from\nhimself alone that he receives commands, and expects approbation. Yes,\nthe obscure man, who does good in secret, is more master of his destiny,\nthan the being ever will be who seems loaded with all the favours of\nfortune, and has need, that fashion and transient gratifications come to\ndetermine his taste, and give laws to his vanity, to enable him to enjoy\nthem\n\nThe little passions of the world, trying to render us happy, lead us on\nfrom one illusion to another, and the last boundary always appears at a\ndistance. Virtue, very different, has its recompenses within itself: it\nis not in events nor in uncertain success that it places contentment; it\nis even in our resolution, in the calmness which accompanies it, and the\nsecret sentiment which precedes it.\n\nRecollection ever composes the principal happiness of virtue, whilst\nworldly vanity is tormented by the remembrance of what is gone for ever;\nand with regard to the passions in general, the past is but a gloomy\nshadow, out of which proceed, from time to time, sorrow and remorse.\n\nThe intervals which occur between the starts of violent passions, are\nalmost always filled by sadness and apathy; we all know, according to\nthe laws of nature, that lively and ardent sensations produce languor\nthe moment the tumult is over. Virtue, in the enjoyment of those\npleasures peculiar to itself, knows nothing of those irregular emotions,\nbecause all its principles are firm, and it acts round its own centre;\nbesides, it also invites us continually to set a just value on that\nhappiness which is most proper for us; it dictates its first laws in the\nbosom of domestic life, and employs all its strength to sustain, by the\nties of duty, our most rational and simple affections.\n\nVirtue, which is the offspring of religion, is of the greatest use in\ndelivering men from the tormenting solicitude of doubt, by presenting a\ngeneral system of conduct; and above all, by marking fixed points to\ndirect them, by telling them what to love, choose, and do. Thus, whilst\nmen, carried away by their imagination, continually allow that they are\ndeceived by phantoms, and lend the most glowing colours to those which\nhave just escaped them, virtue sets no value but on what it possesses,\nand knows not regret. It would seem, at the first glance, that the\ndesires and caprices of the imagination cannot agree with any kind of\nrestraint; however, it is not less true, that these trifling forerunners\nof our will have need of a guide, and often of a master; our first\ninclinations and sentiments are frequently uncertain, weak, and\nwavering; it is of consequence to our happiness, that this trembling\nstalk should be fixed and supported; and such is the service virtue\nrenders to the human mind.\n\nWe see not any uniformity in the conduct of those who are not influenced\nby motives of duty; they have too many things to regulate, too many to\ndecide about every instant, when convenience is their only guide: to\nsimplify the management of ourselves, we should submit to the government\nof a principle, which may be easily applied to most of our\ndeliberations.\n\nIn short, virtue has this great advantage, that it finds its happiness\nin a kind of respect for the rights and claims of the different members\nof the community, and that all its sentiments seem to unite themselves\nto the general harmony. The passions, on the contrary, are almost always\nhostile; the vain man desires that others should grace his triumphs; the\nproud wishes them to feel their inferiority; the ambitious, that they\nkeep clear of his pursuit; the imperious, that they bend to him. It is\nthe same of the different competitions, which an excessive love of\npraise, high reputation, or fortune, gives birth to; in the path they\nchoose every one would wish to go alone, or advance before all the rest,\nand occupied about their own interest, they clash inconsiderately with\nthose of others. Virtue, very different in following its course, fears\nneither rivals nor competitors; it does not jostle with any one, the\nroad is spacious, and all may walk at their ease; it is an orderly\nalliance, of which morality is the knot, drawing together, by the same\nmotives and hopes held in common, that chain of duties and sentiments\nwhich unite the virtues of men to the ideal model of all perfection.\n\nVirtue, which guards us from the snares of our senses, and checks our\nblind desires, is besides the basis of the most precious wisdom; but it\nis not the interest of a day, or the pleasures of a moment, that it\nprotects, it is the whole of life, that it takes under its\nsuperintendency; it is, to speak metaphorically, the vindicator of\nfuturity, the representative of duration, and becomes, to the feelings,\nwhat foresight is to the mind. We must then, with respect to private\nmanners, consider virtue as a prudent friend, taught by the experience\nof all ages, who directs our steps, and never lets the flambeau waver,\nwhose salutary light ought to guide them. Our tumultuous passions\ndispute the honour of partaking the government: it is necessary a master\nshould assign to each its proper limits, one who can keep in peace all\nthese petty domestic tyrants; which reminds us of the image of Ulysses,\narriving suddenly in the midst of the hundred kings who had taken\npossession of his palace.\n\nVirtue, some will say, severe in its judgments, and austere in its\nforms, would it not deprive us of the greatest happiness, the pleasure\nof being beloved? I reply, that virtue, in its most improved state, has\nnot this character; I represent it to myself as a just sentiment of\norder, far from banishing all other comforts, it leads to them: thus,\nbenevolence and forbearance, which agree so well with human weakness;\nthe social spirit so consistent with our nature; urbanity in discourse\nand manner; that amiable expression of a heart, which seeks to unite\nitself with others; all these qualities, very far from being strangers\nto virtue, are its attendants and brightest ornament.\n\nVirtue allies itself to all the ideas which can give extent to our mind,\nand early in life accustoms us to discern relations, and to sacrifice\nfrequently our present affections to distant considerations; it is, of\nall our sentiments, that which carries us farthest out of ourselves, and\nconsequently has the nearest resemblance with abstract thinking. It is\nthen, through the assistance of virtue, that a man acquires all his\nknowledge of his strength and all his grandeur. Vice, on the contrary,\nconcentres us in a little space; it seems to be conscious of its own\ndeformity, and fears all that surrounds it; it endeavours to fix on a\nsingle object, on a single moment, and would wish to have power to draw\ninto a point our whole existence.\n\nI must still add, that virtue, by uniting a motive to all our actions,\nand by directing towards an end all our sentiments, habituates our mind\nto order, and justness of conception; and prevents our wandering in too\ngreat a space: thus I have often thought, that it was not only by his\nvices, that an immoral man is dangerous in the administration of public\naffairs; we ought to fear him also as unable to comprehend a whole, and\nfor his want of capacity to rally all his thoughts and direct them\ntowards any general principle: every kind of harmony is unknown to him,\nevery rule is become a burthen; he is busy, but only by starts; and it\nis by accident that a man, always versatile, stumbles on what is right.\n\nIt may then truly be said, that morality serves as ballast to our\nsentiments, its aid enables us to go on without being agitated\ncontinually by the caprices of our imagination, without being obliged to\nturn back at the first appearance of an obstacle.\n\nVirtue then enlarges the mind, gives dignity to the character, and\ninvests it with every thing becoming. Of all the qualities of men, the\nmost rare, the most apt to create respect, is, that elevation of\nthought, sentiment, and manners; that majestic consistency of character\nwhich truth alone can preserve, but which the least exaggeration, the\nmost trivial affectation, would disconcert or banish. This resembles not\npride, and still less vanity, as one of its ornaments is, that it never\nseeks for the homage of others: the man endowed with real dignity, is\nplaced above even his judges; he accounts not with them, he lives under\nthe government of his conscience, and, proud of such a noble ruler, he\ndoes not wish for any other dependence: but as this grandeur is entirely\nwithin himself, it ceases to exist, when he dictates to others what he\nexpects from them; it can only be restrained in its just limits by\nvirtues which do not pretend to dazzle.\n\nIt is to the same principle, that men owe that noble respect for virtue,\nthe most graceful ornament of a great soul; they owe to it also that\nsimplicity in thinking and speaking, that happy habit of a conscience\nnot in want of being on its guard. A man truly honest considers disguise\nas a detractor, and desires to appear as he really is; it is not his\ninterest to conceal his weaknesses, for in a generous heart they are\nalmost always united to something good; and perhaps frankness would have\nbecome the policy of his mind, if it had not been one of the qualities\nof his character.\n\nThere is, in every virtue, a kind of beauty which charms us without\nreflection: our moral sense, when it is improved by education, is\npleased with that social harmony which the sentiments of justice\npreserves. These enjoyments are unknown to men, whose selfishness\nrenders them insensible to every kind of concord, and they appear to me\nto deserve our contempt in one essential point; it is, that they profit\nby the respect others have for order, without being willing to subject\nthemselves to the same rules, and without declaring publicly their\nintention; it seems to me, that, in this view, a defect of morality is\nindeed a breach of the laws of hospitality.\n\nIn short, talents, those faculties of the mind which belong more\nimmediately to nature, can never be applied to great things without the\naid of morality; there is no other way of uniting the interest of men,\nand of attaining their love and respect. Honesty resembles the ancient\nidioms, according to which you must know how to speak, when you wish to\nbe understood by the generality; and a language is never well known, but\nby constant practice. The understanding is sometimes sufficient to\nacquire an ascendency in circumscribed relations; you there take men one\nby one; and you often engage them by proportioning yourself to their\ndepth: but on a vast theatre, and principally in public administration,\nwhere we have need of captivating men in a body, it is necessary to\nsearch for a band which will embrace all; and it is only by a union of\ntalents and virtue that this chain can be formed. And when I see the\nhomage paid by a nation to virtuous characters; when I remark the almost\ninstinctive judgment which assists in discerning them; when I see that\nthey praise and love only what they can connect to pure virtue, and\nnoble intention, I return to my favourite sentiment, and believe I\nrecognize in these emotions the stamp of a hand divine.\n\nAfter having tried to give a feeble sketch of the various recompenses\nand different satisfactions which seem to appertain to regularity of\nprinciples, and propriety of conduct, you will perhaps ask, if you have\nnot a right to conclude from these reflections, that we can attach men\nto morality by the mere motive of personal interest; I have already\nmentioned, that I intended to answer such an objection, and now is the\ntime to do it.\n\nVirtue, in its most improved state; virtue, such as we have just\nrepresented, is not the work of a moment; it is necessary that it should\nbe called forth and strengthened by degrees; but it would be nipped when\nit first begins to unfold itself, if we destroyed the simple opinions\nwhich serve to educate it, if we overturned the only end which can be\nperceived by all minds; and if we weakened the sentiments which connect\nit with those who respect the laws of morality, and who promote this\ncultivation by their commendations and esteem.\n\nBesides, it is not virtue only, but virtue united to different motives,\nwhich contributes to our happiness. This observation is very important,\nand with great facility you may be made to feel the full force of it.\nEmployment is generally reckoned the surest source of agreeable\nimpressions of which we are susceptible; but its charm would vanish, if\nit did not lead to some recompense, if it did not show, in perspective,\nan increase of wealth, an enjoyment for our self-love, a chance for\nfame, or some other advantages of which we are desirous. Vainly, say\nsome, that the exercise of our faculties is of itself a pleasure;\ncertainly, because that it offers to our view a train of prospects which\nsucceed each other. But there must always be a strong motive to direct\nus to the right road, and make us set off; our bark must be driven by\nthe wind; in short, every kind of labour requires encouragement,\nalthough this labour, proportioned to our strength, may be more\nfavourable to happiness then sloth and idleness; and this truth would\nstrike us still more, if we had ability to analyze a sentiment with\nsufficient attention, to distinguish clearly the happiness which is\nannexed to action and employment, from that which necessarily relates to\nthe end and to the motive of that action.\n\nThe reflections, which I have just made, may be applied to virtue; we\ncan easily, in studying its different effects, perceive, that it is an\nexcellent guide in the course of life; but we discover, at the same\ntime, that it has need, as well as employment, of a spur, a simple\nencouragement on a par with our understanding: it is in religion that\nvirtue finds this encouragement, and we shall not be able to separate it\nfrom the motives and hopes it presents, without disconcerting every\nconnexion it has with human happiness.\n\nIt will be easy to perceive the great benefit which must arise from\nmorality; but at the same time it must be remarked, that to follow its\ndictates with confidence and firmness, knowledge and strong powers of\nreflection are necessarily required in the study of so compounded a\ntruth: we are then in want of a motive to excite our first effort, which\nsubjects us to self-denial, and determines us to struggle with courage\nagainst the dominion of the present moment.\n\nIn short, even when, by the art of sophistry, some philosophers have, at\nlength, thrown into confusion the true principles of order and\nhappiness; when, by the force of address, they have led us to doubt\nabout the kind and degree of power which it is necessary to assign to\nreligion, it should not, however, be the legislators of the nation who\nought to lend an ear to their subtle distinctions.\n\nMetaphysical sentiments and ideas are not proper for statesman, but in\ntheir own defence; to assist them to guard themselves from the\nascendency of brilliant errors, and to confirm the respect due to useful\ntruths: but when they have to guide minds, when they wish to excite\nactivity, it is always, if they are wise, the most simple idea that they\nwill make use of; and they will be very careful not to despise those\nhabitual principles, to which time, still more then knowledge, has given\na sanction. These are so many lessons, which long experience seems to\nhave gradually disengaged from every thing foreign to natural morality\nand the secret sentiments of men.\n\n\n\n\n                               CHAP. VII.\n      _On Religious Opinions, in their Relation with Sovereigns._\n\n\nMany nations, either by choice, or necessity, have deposited their wills\nin the hands of an individual; and have thus erected a perpetual\nmonument to the spirit of discord, and injustice, which has so\nfrequently reigned amongst men. It is true, that from time to time they\nhave wished to recollect that they were capable of knowing themselves\ntheir true interest; but monarchs mistrusting their inconstancy, have\ntaken care to fortify the springs of authority, by surrounding\nthemselves with standing armies; and they have only left them the power\nof being disgusted with slavery: soldiers and taxes have supported each\nother; and through the assistance of this corresponding action, they\nhave become masters and directors of every thing. How much good and evil\ndepend on them? We then necessarily wish them to possess a vigorous\nmorality, proportioned to their immense duties; but what force will your\nmorality have, if they perceive at last, that it is not supported by a\ndivine sanction; if they consider it as a human institution, which they\nhave power to break, and which they are in the habit of modifying? At\nleast they will have the liberty, like other men, to examine if their\nprivate interest agrees with that of the public, and their conduct will\ndepend on the result of this calculation.\n\nI will acknowledge, that at the point of elevation, where kings find\nthemselves placed, they ought not to be acquainted with those passions\nwhich proceed from our petty competitions; but how many other sentiments\nhave they not to repress? And with what celerity it is necessary to do\nit; since they do not experience any contradiction, they are not, like\nus, obliged to reflect and consider! Besides, though sovereigns are\nsupposed to be sheltered by their situation, from the irritations of\nself-love, and from the desires of fortune and advancement, they are\nnot, however, disengaged from every passion of this kind; it is towards\nother princes that they feel them; and envy, ambition, and revenge,\nbecome often very dangerous, as they associate with these passions those\nof the nation they govern, by means of a war. It is then that, freed\nfrom religious ties, and sure of not accounting with any body, they\nwould find morality a very ingenious invention, to render the\nmaintenance of public order more easy, and to preserve the subordination\nwhich secures their power; but, would not acknowledge such a master for\nthemselves, and would dispense with bowing to its dictates.\n\nYou will say, undoubtedly, that a virtuous king would be recompensed by\nthe applause of his subjects: but I have already shown, that the\ninfluence of public opinion would be very weak, if the principles of\nmorality, which serve to guide this opinion, were not supported by\nreligion. We should also observe, that elogiums and applause, homage so\nencouraging to private men, have not an equal power over princes, who\ncannot, like individuals, consider this suffrage as an earnest, or\nforerunner of exaltation; it is by the continual view of the advantages\nand triumphs of others, that the desire of respect and distinction is\ncontinually kept alive; and it may, perhaps, proceed a little from the\nstimulation of envy, or at least from those jarring pretentions, and\nfrom those struggles of self-love, of which society alone is the\ntheatre. Princes without rivals are not subject to the same impressions;\nand the flattery they have so early imbibed, and the praises which are\nlavished on them from the simple motive of hope, all serve to render\nthem less sensible to deserved applause; in short, this exaggerated\npraise soon becomes a dull monotony, which extinguishes, by its\nuniformity, that emulation which a just homage sometimes inspires. There\nwould be then great danger in reposing too much on the power of public\nopinion, if we were to consider it as a check able to replace with\nprinces the compressing force of religion.\n\nI must now make an essential remark: those who surround a monarch, often\nmislead his judgment by the nature and the application of the elogiums\nwhich they lavish on him. The praise of men, in a monarchy, always has a\ntaint of slavery: thus, in such countries, a look, a word from the\nprince, which seems to efface, for an instant, the distance that\nseparates him from his subjects, delights them; and their enthusiasm in\nthose moments serves to persuade the monarch, that it is sufficient for\nhim to smile, to render his people happy: dangerous illusion, sad effect\nof servility: in short, in consequence of the character which is\nimpressed by an habitual yoke, men are pleased with exalting the power\nof him to whom they are obliged to submit; they love to see their\nservile companions multiplied; and as the greater part of them have\nseldom any access to the prince, vanity persuades them, that in\naffecting to partake of the royal grandeur, they contract a kind of\nfamiliarity with it; therefore, without reflecting whether it will be\nmore in the power of the sovereign to make them happy, when, by\nenlarging his dominions, he shall have more subjects, and of course more\nduties to fulfil, they celebrate, above all, the conquering warrior, and\nthus invite princes to prefer the pursuit of military glory to every\nother; and, as the multitude can quickly comprehend this kind of merit;\nas the gaining of a battle is a simple idea, easily conceived by men of\nevery condition and turn of mind, it happens, by this reasoning, that\nthese triumphs are the most highly extolled; and even that men, on\naccount of them, can excuse every other failure, broken treaties,\nviolated oaths, alliances abandoned\u2014In short, such is the mad folly of\nour praise, that the tranquillity of the state, the repose of the\npeople, the mild benefits of peace, appear no more than the last\nconsequence of the labours and the success of a monarch; and even\nhistory frequently represents this fortunate time, as the days of\nobscurity in which heroes of blood and carnage are educated; kings,\ndiscontented with their destiny, are warriors through ambition, and\nhappy by the victories, to which we annex our first honours, and the\nmost noble wreaths of fame.\n\nIt is thus, however, that the prevailing opinion, and the rumour of\nrenown, can sometimes deceive princes, though inconsistent with the\ninstructions of morality and the legislation of yore, which point out\nthe true interest of the people as the first object of a sovereign\u2019s\nanxious solicitude; and instead of a sounding name, and dazzling\nqualities, enforce those requisite to form the guardian and protector of\nthe felicity of the public; duties of a vast extent, and which are\ndischarged by the secret labours of paternal vigilance, still more than\nby the noise of the drum and the instruments of destruction.\n\nLet us consider, however, the influence the opinion of the world will\nhave on sovereigns, in directing only our views towards the interior\nfunctions of administration. An essential observation presents itself at\nfirst to the mind: it is, that the thirst for glory is especially felt\nwhen a great abuse is to be reformed, and when we can hope to make\nregularity succeed to confusion; but when this task is fulfilled, and\nthat it is only necessary to preserve and support what is good, the love\nof renown has not sufficient aliment, and it is then that the virtue of\nprinces becomes the only faithful guardian of the public interest. A\nreign, such as we have formed an idea of, would carry away from the\nfollowing ones every subject of dazzling splendour; and it would be\nnecessary that new troubles and fears re-animated the sentiment of\nadmiration, to give it its ancient ascendency and original force.\n\nWe should be able also, and this picture would be very different, to\nfigure to ourselves a period, when, by the successive degradation of\ncharacter, the opinion of the public would no longer indicate the way to\nfame, nor resound to excite ambition; the recompenses it offers would\nnot be a motive sufficiently powerful to influence men. Thus, in a\ncountry, in a metropolis, where covetousness seemed triumphant, where\nevery body would appear to pursue that fortune which is only acquired by\nintrigue, and the vices of those who bestow it, respect for the real\ninterest of the people, and attention to lighten their burthens, would\nno longer purchase renown. In like manner, in a country where despotism\nreigns, and the people are accustomed to prostrate themselves before\npower, they would acknowledge no other idol; we should not there be able\nto acquire a contemporary fame by elevation of character, by tempering\nwith wisdom the exercise of authority, and allowing the citizens to\nenjoy that degree of freedom, which does not degenerate into\nlicentiousness. It is then morality, and morality alone, which comes at\nall times, and in all circumstances, to resist the revolutions of habit\nand opinion, of which history furnishes examples, and of which men are\never susceptible.\n\nI ought not to neglect another very important consideration: princes, by\nthe elevation of their rank, and influence on the national manners, find\nthat they are in that singular situation, where one is more called to\ndirect the reigning opinion, than to receive instruction and\nencouragement from it: thus we are impelled to wish, that a monarch\nshould have principles which flow from his heart, and which depend on\nhis reflections, from which he may be able to derive, at all times, a\nforce properly his own, a natural courage. It is necessary for a prince\nto investigate and decide on his own conduct; and a sublime morality\nshould nourish in his heart an ideal model of perfection, with which he\ncan continually compare the opinions of the world and the private\njudgment of his conscience.\n\nIn short, and this last reflection which I have made will apply, in a\ngeneral manner, to the preceding remarks; the opinion of the public, the\njust complaints of the people, are sometimes a long while in reaching\nthe prince; they ring in the kingdom before he hears the rumour; they\nwander round the palace, but the whispers do not reach him; vanity,\npride, and every vice excludes them; the old courtiers sneer, and the\ninsignificant pursuers of credit or favour amuse themselves by indulging\ntheir turn for ridicule. The ministers, who are followed by the clamour,\nare often importuned by it; and when it reaches their master, find some\nmethod to weaken its impression, attributing these commotions to private\npassions, and giving the name of cabal to a just indignation against\nvice. Yes, such is the unhappy fate of princes, that the peace of a\nstate is often tottering, before the opinion of the world reaches them,\nand discovers the truth; a new consideration, very proper to convince\nus, that the power of opinion can never equal in utility those grand\nprinciples of morality, which, by the aid of religion, are fixed, in the\nhearts of men, to give them laws, without distinction of birth, rank, or\ndignity.\n\nBut if, from sovereigns, we carry our views to those who share their\nconfidence, we shall perceive still more the absolute necessity of an\nactive and governing morality. Ministers, without virtue, are more to be\nfeared than sovereigns indifferent to public good; newly come out of the\ncrowd they know better than the monarch the selfish use that they can\nmake of all the passions and vices; and as they are connected with\nsociety, as they have a continual relation with the different orders of\nthe state, their corruptions are propagated, and their dangerous\ninfluence spreads to a great distance. Attacked, nevertheless, by the\npublic, they become still more mischievous in their means of warding off\ndanger, for despairing of disguise before the attentive eyes of a whole\npeople, they turn their address against the prince; they study, they pry\ninto his weaknesses, and artfully encourage those which may protect or\ncover the defects of their character; they apply themselves, at the same\ntime, to adorn immorality with every grace which can render it amiable,\nand they endeavour to make virtue hateful, by delineating it as austere,\nimperious, unsociable, and almost incompatible with our morals and\nmanners: it is thus that ministers, not restrained by principles,\noccasion not only the misery of a country whilst their influence lasts,\nbut they poison the source of public felicity, by weakening in the\nmonarch his sentiments of duty, diverting his good dispositions, and\ndiscouraging, if I may say so, his natural virtues.\n\nIn short, the picture which I have just drawn will produce another\nimportant observation: the prince, after having wandered out of the path\nof true glory, may return, when he pleases, to the love of virtue and\ngreatness; all the avenues are open to him, all hearts ready to welcome\nhim, we have an inclination to love him, and desire to esteem him, whom\nfate has placed at the head of the nation; and who, invested with the\nmajesty which he borrows from a long train of ancestors, exhibits\nhimself surrounded by all the enchantments of a diadem; we adopt with\npleasure any interpretation which can excuse his conduct; we impute to\nill counsels the faults which he has committed; and we are eager to\nenter with him into a new contract of esteem and hope. It is not the\nsame with ministers; a like indulgence is not due to them, because they\ncannot throw the blame on others, and all their actions proceed from\nthemselves; when they have once lost the opinion of the public, their\ndepravity will increase daily; because, to maintain their post they are\nobliged to redouble their intrigues and dissimulation.\n\nI have maturely reflected: the religion of princes, of ministers, of\ngovernment in general, is the first source of the happiness of the\npeople; we despise it, because it is not our invention, and we often\ngive the preference to those artifices of the mind, which seduce us as\nbeing our own work; and perhaps they are wanted, after having lost sight\nof this sure and faithful guide, this companion of true genius, which,\nlike it, prefers easy and simple means. Yes, this exalted virtue,\nresembling superior abilities, rejects equally those weak resources and\ninventions, which derive not their origin from an elevated sentiment or\ngrand thought; and, whilst one obliges a statesman to respect honour,\njustice, and truth, the other discovers the union of these principles\nwith the just means which strengthen authority, and with the true glory\nand durable success of politics; in short, whilst one renders him\nanxious about the happiness of the people, the other shows how, from the\nbosom of this happiness, they would see rise insensibly an agreement of\ninterests and of wills, of whose extensive use we are still ignorant.\n\nIf we wish to dwell a moment on the private happiness of princes, we\nshall readily perceive, that they have a real want of the encouragement\nreligion affords. Their distinguished authority appears, indeed, to\ntheir mind, a singular privilege; they believe this power should extend\nto every thing, and they indiscretly endeavour to accelerate the moments\nof enjoyment; but as they cannot change the law of nature, it happens,\nthat in delivering themselves up to every thing which seduces their\nimagination, they experience as quickly the sad langour of indifference,\nand the oppression of apathy.\n\nKings, in the exercise of their intellectual faculties are exposed to\nthe same extremes; providence having placed them on the pinnacle of\nfortune, they consequently have not been led from one view to another,\nand know not those gradations which actuate their subjects in the name\nof vanity, self-love, or fortune.\u2014Alas! we obey so quickly, and their\ndesires are so soon gratified, that their taste and inclinations cannot\nbe renewed with the quickness necessary to enable them to fill the\nirksome void which so frequently occurs. If the magnificent end which\nreligion offers were to be obscured, and if, henceforth, we were to\nconsider it as a fallacious illusion, unworthy of our attention, kings\nwould soon attain to that term when the future would appear to their\nmind a barren uniformity, a space without colour or form.\n\nThe numerous duties of princes, undoubtedly, afford a continual source\nof satisfaction; but it is necessary that they should be able to connect\nall their obligations to a grand idea, the only one which can constantly\nanimate their actions and thoughts, who have need of neither favour nor\nadvancement from their fellow-creatures. And how much would it\ncontribute to their happiness sometimes, to imagine themselves between\nthis world, in which they are weary of their own power, and that\nmagnificent future; the sublime contemplation of which would carry them,\nwith a new charm, to the exercise of their authority! What pleasure then\nwould flow from this authority, the source of so much good!\u2014What\npleasure would they not find in more closely imitating the divine\nbeneficence, the most comfortable of all ideas, and what a moment for\nhim, when particularly conscious of the presence of the exalted friend\nof the whole human race, he should be able to reflect, in the morning,\non the people he was going to make happy; and in the evening, on those\nhe had actually done good to. What a difference between these delicious\nmoments, whose influence the nation feels, and those insignificant\nlevees, only known to courtiers, in which the monarch is the spectacle,\nand tastes the sad pleasure of seeing so many men cringing before his\nown image. What a difference, even between these rapturous sensations,\nand those raised by flattery, or the dazzling parade which surrounds\nhim, in the midst of which he cannot discern himself, whether he is a\ngreat man, or only a king.\n\nIn short, we ought to acknowledge, that the more extensive the horizon,\nwhich opens before sovereigns, the greater is the number of duties\npresented to their reflections, the more they must feel the want of that\nsustaining power so infinitely superior to their own strength: they are\nconscious of the disproportion which exists between the extent of their\nauthority and the means entrusted to human nature; and it is only by\nsupporting themselves against that mysterious pillar, erected by\nreligion, that they can be firm, and consider without affright, that\nProvidence has called them to regulate and direct the destiny of a whole\nempire. It was when profoundly meditating on the existence of a God;\nreflecting on the influence and various relations of such a grand\nthought, that Marcus Aurelius discovered all the extent of his duties,\nand felt, at the same time, the courage and the will to fulfil them. The\nhappy and constant agreement of his actions and principles made his\nreign an illustrious example of wisdom and morality.\n\nWe must confess, that it is to virtue, supported by every sentiment\nwhich it imprints on the human heart, that we should wish to confide the\nsacred deposit of public happiness; this alone is always faithful and\nvigilant, surpasses the spur of praise, and, by the ascendency of a\ngreat example, leads men to the knowledge of every thing they ought to\nadmire.\n\n\n\n\n                              CHAP. VIII.\n_An Objection drawn from the Wars and from the Commotions which Religion\n                          has given Rise to._\n\n\nI shall present, at first, this objection in all its force, or rather I\nwill not seek to weaken it; it would be needless to recal to the memory\nof men all the evils that have happened during a long series of years,\nwith which we have reason to reproach the blind and savage zeal of\nreligious fanaticism. Every one has present to his mind those multiplied\nacts of intolerance which have sullied the annals of history; every one\nknows the scenes of discord, of war, and fury, which theological\ncontroversies have caused amongst men; they have been informed of the\nfatal consequences which these enterprizes have brought in their train,\nand which the rare virtues of a great king have not been able to\njustify. In short, to maintain, in all ages, a remembrance of the fatal\nabuses which have been committed in the name of the God of Peace, it\nwould be sufficient to describe those direful days, when some different\ntenet produced a sentence of proscription, and the frightful signal of\nthe most cruel frenzies.\n\nIt is thus then, that in all times, by an absurd tyranny, or by a\nferocious enthusiasm, triumphs have been contrived for the eager\ndetractors of religion. Let us examine, however, if the deductions that\nthey wish to draw from these errors of the human mind, are founded on\nreason and justice.\n\nI shall not stop to observe, that religion has oftener been the pretext,\nthan the true motive, of the unhappy convulsions of which it appears at\npresent the sole origin; or stop to recal the various political\nadvantages, which could only arise from such a grand principle of\naction; those august testimonies are commemorated in history: I shall\nonly borrow the support of reason, and shall bound my discussion to a\nfew simple reflections.\n\nDo you think, that by relating the different abuses of authority we\ncould prove the advantage of anarchy? Could we decry every species of\njurisprudence, by recounting all the ills which have been produced by\nchicane? Should we be able to throw an odium on the sciences, by\nrecalling all the fatal discoveries which are owing to our researches?\nWould it be proper to stifle every kind of self-love and activity, by\nreciting the different crimes which covetousness, pride, and ambition\nhave given rise to? And ought we, then, to desire to annihilate\nreligion, because fanaticism has made an instrument of it to distress\nthe human species? All these questions are similar, and all should be\nresolved in the same manner: thus we may say with respect to them, that\nin all our interests and passions, it is by acquired knowledge, and the\nlight of reason, that right is separated from wrong; but we ought never\nto confound their proximity with a real identity.\n\nFanaticism and religion have not any connection, though very often these\nideas are found united. It is not the worship of the common Father of\nmen; it is not the morality of the gospel, whose precepts lead to\ngoodness and forbearance, which inspires the spirit of persecution; we\nshould attribute it to a blind madness, resembling all those wild errors\nand crimes which dishonour humanity. But since, at present, the excesses\nto which men abandon themselves do not induce us to condemn, as a\nmisfortune, all the sentiments of which the criminal passions are only\nthe extreme, why do we wish to refuse religion the gratitude which is\nits due, because sometimes it has given birth to hatred and unhappy\ndivisions? It would be necessary rather to remark, that intolerant zeal\nis, of all the errors of the human mind, that on which the progress of\nour knowledge appears to have had most influence. In fact, whilst\nfanaticism, gradually weakened, seems to be now verging to its decline,\nthe disorders connected with the common passions of ambition, love of\nwealth, and thirst of pleasure, remain in all their force. However, what\nsentiment, what predominant idea, has a greater claim to pardon for its\nmistakes than devotion? By what an infinite number of benefits the pure\nspirit of religion makes amends for the abuses which spring from the\nfalse interpretation of its precepts. It is to this spirit, as we have\nshown, that men owe the stability of public order and the firm\nprinciples of justice: it procures the indigent the succours of charity,\nand virtue its encouragement; oppressed innocence its only refuge, and\nsensibility its dearest hopes. Yes, the pure spirit of religion\nsurrounds us on every side, it makes the charm, of solitude, the band of\nsociety, the invigorater of intimate affections; and can we calumniate\nit and wish to destroy it, on recollecting the tyrannic opinions of some\npriests and sovereigns, whose principles and conduct we now detest?\n\nI shall further remark, and ask why men denounce a sentence of\nreprobation against religion, and give as the motive, the ancient wars\nof which it has been the origin; whilst they never contest the\nimportance of commerce, though rivers of blood have been continually\nshed for the smallest advantage on this account? Can they be so mistaken\nin their judgment, as to compare a few pecuniary advantages, which one\npolitical state never enjoys, but at the expence of another, with those,\nas precious as they are universal, of which religion is the origin and\nsupport?\n\nIn short, among the various arguments that are employed to attack these\nopinions, the most frivolous, undoubtedly, is that which derives all its\nforce from the errors and faults of which the present times do not\nfurnish any example. What should we say if, at the moment when a superb\nedifice was firm on its foundation, we should be exhorted to level it\nwith the ground, by a relation of all the accidents its erection\noccasioned?\n\nThrowing then a painful retrospect on the period of history, when\nreligion was made the pretext of wars and cruelty; let us oppose to the\nreturn of those sanguinary scenes, let us oppose to the spirit of\nintolerance all the force of wisdom, and the instructions of that\nreligion which they pretend to serve by a blind zeal. But far from\nfreeing us from the respect which we owe to such salutary opinions,\nwhich men have abused, let us take advantage of experience, as a new\ndefence against the wanderings of our imaginations, and the surprises of\nour passions[2].\n\n\n\n\n                               CHAP. IX.\n               _Another Objection examined. The Sabbath._\n\n\nI do not intend to place among the objections I ought to discuss, nor in\nthe number of arguments, that it is important to examine, the various\nopinions on such and such parts of religious worship, nor the\ndifficulties raised against the adoption of some dogmatic notion,\nthought essential by some, and considered with indifference by others:\nit is not a treatise of controversial theology which I wish to compose;\nand it is still less the doctrines of one particular church, which I\nwould oppose to that of another; all of them connect morality to the\ncommands of a Supreme Being; they all of them see in the public worship\nthe respectful expression of a sentiment of love and gratitude towards\nthe Author of Nature. Thus, those who might think they perceived some\nimperfections in the system, or in the forms of worship, adopted in a\nnation, should not use this objection to dispute the utility of\nreligion, since the reflections, which have been just made on its\nimportance, may be applied equally to the doctrines of all countries,\nand the principles of every sect.\n\nI shall dwell then on the only difficulty which interests, without\ndistinction, the different religions of Europe.\n\nThe establishment of public worship, and the necessity of consecrating\nat least one day in every week, occasions, say some, a suspension of\nlabour too frequent; and this suspension injures the state, and\ndiminishes the resources of the people.\n\nI may at first observe, that such objections would appear very weak, if\ncompared with the great advantages which men owe to religion! An\nincrease of wealth can never outweigh order, morality, and happiness.\nBut I must go further to prove, that a day of rest, devoted amongst us\nto public worship, cannot injure the political strength; and that so far\nfrom being contrary to the interests of the people, it protects and\nfavours them; and as I invariably prefer such interests to all others, I\nshall begin by demonstrating, in a few words, the justness of this\nproposition.\n\nWe should be mistaken if we thought, that in a given space of time, men\nforced, by the inequality of conditions, to live by their labour, would,\nby observing the precepts of religion, better their situation, if they\nwere not obliged to rest from labour one day in every week.\n\nIt is necessary, in order to perceive this truth, to examine, first,\nwhat is now the measure of wages; it is not an exact proportion between\nlabour and its reward. In fact, if we consulted only the light of reason\nand equity, no one, I believe, would dare to decide, that the most\nscanty necessaries is the just price of fatiguing and painful labour,\nwhich commences at the dawn, and does not finish till the setting of the\nsun: we should not be able to maintain, that in the midst of his\nenjoyments, and in the bosom of luxurious idleness, the rich ought not\nto grant any other retribution to those who sacrifice their time and\nstrength to increase their revenue and multiply their enjoyments. It is\nnot then by the principles of common sense or reflection, that the wages\nof the generality have been fixed; it is a compact established by power,\na yoke to which the weak must submit. The possessor of a vast domain\nwould see all his riches vanish, if numerous labourers did not come to\ncultivate his estate, and carry into his store-house the fruit of their\ntoil; but, as the number of men without property is immense, their\nconcurrence, and the pressing need that they have to labour for a\nsubsistence, obliges them to receive the law from him who can, in the\nbosom of ease, wait quietly for their services; and it results from this\nhabitual relation between the rich and poor, that the wages for hard\nlabour are constantly reduced to the most scanty allowance, that is to\nsay, to what is only sufficient to satisfy their daily and indispensable\nwants.\n\nThis system once settled, if it were possible, that, by a revolution in\nour nature, men could live and preserve their strength without allotting\nevery day some hours to repose and sleep, it is beyond doubt, that the\nwork of twenty hours would be required for the same wages now granted\nfor twelve.\n\nOr, by an assimilation, agreeing with the hypothesis I have just\nmentioned, suppose that a moral revolution permitted labourers to work\nthe seventh day, they would consequently, in a short time, require of\nthem the extraordinary labour at the former rate; and this levelling\nwould take place through the gradual diminution of the price of labour.\nThe class of society, which, in exerting its power, has regulated the\npresent wages, not according to reason and equity, but according to the\nnecessities of the labourers, would quickly discern its own interest;\nand that when a day more was paid for, the people could bear a\ndiminution of the seventh part of their wages, and be in their old\nstate. Thus, though before the change had thoroughly taken place, all\nthose who live by labour would think that they had acquired a new\nresource; yet they would soon be brought to their former condition; for\nit is the same with social order as with the law of equilibrium in\nnature, which combines ranks and places, every thing according to the\nimmutable law of the proportion of force.\n\nMen, devoid of property, after having been some time deceived, would\nonly get an increase of work by the abolition of the Sabbath; and as\nthis truth does not present itself naturally to the mind, we ought to\nconsider, as an essential service of religion, its having secured the\ngreater number of men from a degree of oppression, to which they would\nhave run blindly, if they had been at liberty to make a choice.\n\nThe daily labour of one class of society surpasses the reasonable\nmeasure of its strength, and hastens the days of decripitude; it was\nthen absolutely necessary that the customary course of these labours\nshould be, for a time, suspended; but as the people, pressed by wants of\nevery kind, are exposed to be seduced by the slightest appearance of\nadvantage, it was further necessary to their happiness, that the\ninterruption of thier fatigues, fixed by a religious duty, appeared not\nto them the voluntary sacrifice of fortune, and did not leave in them\nany regret. In short, they are pleased when they think of those days of\nrest, which produce a little alteration in their manner of living; and\nthey require that alteration, not to be depressed by a continual train\nand repetition of the same occupations. Thus, were you to assert\nartfully, that the people are not as comfortable of a Sunday, as during\nthe week, it would be at least true, that one is softened by the\nexpectation of the other; there are people so very wretched, and\nprobably, on that account, so bounded are their desires, that the most\ntrifling variety is a substitute for hope. It seems to me, that the\nhearts of the common people may be sometimes cheered with the thought of\nbeing once a week dressed like their superiors; when they are absolute\nmasters of their time, and can say,\u2014and I also\u2014I am free[3].\n\nI must now examine the second proposition which I have mentioned.\n\nYou have made obvious, some will say, that an augmentation of the days\nof labour would occasion a reduction of the wages allowed for it, we may\nthen reasonably ask, if this result would not favour commerce, and\ncontribute, in some respect, to increase the political strength?\nUndoubtedly you may consider under this point of view, the diminution of\nthe reward of industry; but the political strength being always a\nrelative idea, and derived from comparisons with other states, this\nstrength can never be augmented or diminished by a circumstance common\nto all the countries of Europe. Were a barbarous ambition to abolish in\none state the Sabbath, the abolition would probably procure it a degree\nof superiority, if it was the only one that adopted such a change; but\nas soon as others followed their example, the advantage would disappear.\nHowever, the same arguments ought to serve to convince us, that those\ncountries, where the intervals of inaction occur oftener, have\nnecessarily a political disadvantage, with regard to others, where\nSunday and a few solemn feasts are the only days of rest prescribed by\ngovernment.\n\nWe may conclude from these observations, that so far from finding fault\nwith religion for appointing a day of rest, devoted every week to public\nworship, we ought to acknowledge with pleasure, that such an institution\nis a benevolent act, extended to the most numerous class of the\ninhabitants of the earth, the most deserving our consideration and\nprotection; from which we require so much, and return so little: towards\nthat unfortunate class, whose youth and maturity the rich profit by, and\nabandon them when the hour is come, when they have no more strength left\nbut to enable them to pray and weep.\n\n\n\n\n                                CHAP. X.\n    _An Observation on a particular Circumstance of public Worship._\n\n\nIt is not sufficient, that sovereigns are persuaded of the influence of\nreligion on the morality and happiness of men; they ought to make use of\nproper means to maintain this salutary action; and, of course, every\npart of public worship becomes of the greatest importance. Educated in a\nreligion, thought by some to approach nearer the first ideas of\nchristianity, yet as it has adopted several principles by no means\nconsonant with the Catholic faith, it would be unwise in me to discuss\nany of the questions which divide the two churches; and I should do it\nwithout any good accruing from it, so much are we disposed to refer to\nearly prejudices, the ideas which are most intimately blended with the\nsentiments and feeling of a man; we like to take a general view, and\nthis method agrees with our indolence; but it leads us often astray. I\nthink, however, that the minds of the people are now sufficiently\nenlightened, to permit me to advise the superiors of both church and\nstate, to examine attentively, if it is not full time to make more use\nof the vulgar tongue, and if we are not warned, by the present depravity\nof morals, to alter the manner of performing divine service in this\nrespect.\n\nIt is only during an interval of the grand mass that the priest\naddresses to country people some words of exhortation in their own\nlanguage; it was natural to consider this moment as the most proper to\ndispose the mind to respect and attention; but perhaps, even the pomp of\nan august ceremony, by attracting strongly the imagination, withdraws\nthe generality from the importance of the other parts of divine worship;\nand it frequently happens in country places, that many people go out of\nthe church during the sermon, and return at the moment of consecration.\n\nI think also, that public prayers should always be in the vulgar tongue,\nand they might easily be made interesting and affecting, as there are\nnot any religious discourses which sympathize more with human weakness;\nand as our wants and anxieties may be made use of to raise us towards\nthe Supreme Being, the best of all bands might be chosen to win the\nmultitude.\n\nI must observe besides, that part of the country people, especially in\nharvest time, and other seasons, when the husbandman is particularly\nbusy, assist only at early mass, and then they see but a part of the\nreligious ceremonies[4]. And, if the practice and liberty of working on\na Sunday was more extended, the inhabitants of the country, still more\nconfined to the first mass, would hear neither prayers nor instructive\ndiscourses in their own language during the whole year.\n\nCertainly there must be something altered in these religious\ninstitutions in order to make them more efficaciously serve to support\nmorality, and comfort the most numerous class of the human race. Country\npeople, whose labour produces our wealth, ought to be taken care of with\npaternal anxiety; and since they are not exposed to those disorderly\npassions which find nourishment in a metropolis; since mild and prudent\nmeans still suffice to maintain them in the habit of duty; both the\nsuperiors in church and state have to answer, in some measure, for the\ncorruption of their manners and dispositions.\n\n\n\n\n                               CHAP. XI.\n  _That the single Idea of a God is a sufficient Support of Morality._\n\n\nAfter having shown that morality has need of a supernatural support, you\nhave reason to expect, that I should explain the intimate and immediate\nrelation which unites religion to the love of virtue, and the observance\nof order. I will endeavour, then, to discuss this important question;\nand in order to arrive at the truth, I shall follow first the course of\nthose simple sentiments and natural thoughts, which guide the mind and\nthe heart of man, in every climate and country under heaven.\n\nIt is easy to unite all the moral legislation, and the entire system of\nour duties, by means only of the idea of a God.\n\nThe universe, notwithstanding its magnificence and its immensity, would\nbe a mere nothing, if its Supreme Author had not peopled it with\nintelligent beings, capable of contemplating so many wonders, and of\nreceiving happiness from them; but the faculties with which we are\nendowed, consciousness of possessing them, and the liberty to act, all\nannounce to us that we are united to a grand combination, that we have a\npart to take on the vast stage of the world.\n\nThe most simple reason, that which resembles instinct, would have been\nsufficient to enable us to take care of the body, and to have concentred\nus in ourselves; more would not have been necessary for those who have\nso little to do. Thus, when I see that the mind is susceptible of\ncontinual improvement, when I see that men enjoy the power of assisting\neach other, and of communicating their ideas, in a manner so much\nsuperior to other animals; when I fix my attention on our social\ndispositions, and on all the relative qualities which compose our\nnature, I cannot avoid thinking, that we have a plan of conduct to\nfollow towards others, and that in our pilgrimage on earth we must be\ncircumspect, having obstacles to conquer, sacrifices to make, and\nobligations to fulfil.\n\nMen then appear to be led to religion by the most excellent gifts of\nnature, and by all that they have in them of the sublime; but we ought\nto remark, as a singular resemblance, that their wants also, and their\nextreme weakness, lead them to the same object.\n\nWhatever may be my emotions, when I reflect on the present imperious\nlaws to which I am obliged to submit, and when I recal to mind the\ngrandeur and magnificence which I have been a witness of, I raise\ncontinually my soul towards the Sovereign Director of events, and am led\nby instinct, as well as by a rational sentiment, to address my prayers\nto Him. It appears to the unfortunate, when they view so many wonders\nwhich their understanding cannot grasp, that so little is wanting to\nguard them from the dangers which threaten them, they implore the\ncommiseration of Him whose formidable power bursts from all sides. But,\nwhile they admire and adore, they must imitate His perfections, and not\nexpect mercy when they show none. Purity of heart only can render an\nintercourse with the Supreme Being interesting; and prayers are merely a\nsolemn kind of mockery, when they do not produce virtue and forbearance,\nwhen they do not render us kindly affected to each other; our very state\nof dependence, our wants and weaknesses, should bind us to those beings\nwho equally share the blessings so liberally bestowed, and have the same\nevils to endure. Thus discontent, the fear of futurity, the anxiety\ncaused by misfortunes, all the sentiments, which engage men to disturb\nsocial order, take another character, or are at least sensibly modified;\nwhen, from their first suffering, they can elevate their wishes to God,\nbut dare not do it, with a heart sullied by criminal intentions.\n\nIt is not only prayer which leads us to religion; another communication\nwith the Supreme Being, gratitude, produces the same effect. A man,\npersuaded of the existence of a sovereign power, and who gladly connects\nwith the divine protection his success and happiness, feels, at the same\ntime, a desire to express his gratitude; and not being able to do any\nthing for him who bestows all, he seeks to form an idea of the\nperfections of that Supreme Being, in order to comprehend the system of\nconduct most conformable to his attributes. At first, what reflections\npossess our mind, what emotions agitate our souls, when we contemplate\nthe universe? When we respectfully admire that magnificent harmony,\nwhich is the incomprehensible result of an innumerable multitude of\ndifferent powers: struck with this vast whole, where we discover an\nagreement so perfect, how is it possible for us to avoid considering\norder as a distinct mark of the wisdom and of the design of Omnipotence?\nAnd how is it possible for us not to think, that we render him the most\nworthy homage, at the time we make use of the free intelligence which he\nhas endowed us with. Then in the composition of a social structure, a\nwork which has been entrusted to us, we shall try to penetrate the ideas\nof wisdom and order, of which all nature presents such a grand example;\nthen, in establishing the relations which unite men, we shall carefully\nstudy the laws of moral order, and we shall find them all founded on the\nreciprocation of duties, which submit to a regular movement different\njarring personal interests. In short, the idea of a God, Creator,\nRegenerator, and Preserver of the Universe, by invariable laws, and by a\ntrain of the same causes and the same effects, seems to call us to the\nconception of a universal morality, which, in imitation of the unknown\nsprings of the natural world, may be as the necessary tie of this\nsuccession of intelligent beings, who always, with the same passions,\ncome to pass and repass on the earth, to seek, or to fly, to assist, or\nto hurt each other, according to the strength or the weakness of the\nknot which unites them, and according to the wisdom or inconsistency of\nthe principles which direct their opinions.\n\nThe attentive study of man and of his nature ought to contribute to\nconfirm in us the idea which we have just pointed out. We cannot, in\nfact, consider the prodigious difference which exists between the minds\nand characters of men; we cannot fix our attention on the length to\nwhich this difference may be carried, by the perfectibility of which\nthey are susceptible; we cannot, in short, reflect on a like\nconstitution, without being induced to think, that the counterpoise of\nthese extraordinary means of force and usurpation must proceed from\nreason, from that singular authority which only can establish, between\nmen, relations of justice and convenience, proper to maintain an\nequilibrium and harmony in the midst of so many disparities: it is thus,\nthat respect for morality seems evidently to make a part of the general\nview and primitive idea of the Supreme Disposer of the universe. And\nwhat pleasure shall we not find in the persuasion, that the cultivation\nof virtue, that the observance of order, offers us the means of pleasing\nour Divine Benefactor! It is by that alone that we can hope to concur,\nhowever feebly, in the execution of his grand designs; and in the centre\nof so many blessings, surrounded by so many signs of a particular\nprotection, how highly ought we to value this means of communication\nwith the Author of our existence? Thus, then, the homage of adoration\nand gratitude which we render to the Deity, leads us to a sentiment of\nrespect for the laws of morality; and this sentiment, in its turn,\nserves continually to maintain in us the idea of a Supreme Being.\n\nIndependent of the reflections which we have just presented, morality,\nconsidered in all its extent, has need of being strengthened by this\ndisposition of the soul, which makes us interested in the happiness of\nothers; and it is besides, in one of the most glorious perfections of\nthe Deity, that we find the first model of this precious sentiment. Yes,\nwe cannot deny it: either our existence proceeds from no cause, or we\nowe it to the goodness of the Supreme Being. Life, some will say,\nundoubtedly is a mixture of pains and pleasures: but, if we are candid\nwe shall confess, that those moments, when it ceases to appear to us a\nbenefit, do not often occur in life: in youth, existence is thought the\ngreatest blessing, and the other seasons of life offer pleasures less\nanimated, certainly, but which agree better with the progress of our\nunderstanding, and the increase of our experience.\n\nIt is true, that in order to free ourselves from a sentiment of\ngratitude, we often think that we would not accept of a renewal of life,\non condition of our running over a second time our career, and returning\nstep by step in the same track. But we should consider, that we do not\nfix a just value on the benefits which we have received; for when we\ntake a retrospective view of life, we see it stripped of its two\nprincipal ornaments, curiosity and hope; and it is not in this state\nthat it was given to us, and that we have enjoyed it.\n\nIt is, perhaps, not in our power to replace ourselves, by contemplation,\nin the situation where the imagination made our chief pleasure, a slight\nbreath has easily effaced it from our memory: it is evident that we\nenjoy life, because we look forward with affright to the moment when we\nshall be forced to renounce it; but, as this happiness is composed of\npresent pleasures, and those which we anticipate, we cease to be good\njudges of the value of life, when this future prospect is not presented\nto our eyes, but under the form of the past; for we know not how to\nappreciate, with a languishing recollection, that which we have loved in\nthe moment of hope.\n\nPhysical evils are not either the end or the condition of our nature,\nthey are its accidents: the happiness of infancy, which shows in its\nprimitive purity the works of the Deity, visibly point out the goodness\nof the Supreme Being; and how can we avoid believing, that we owe our\norigin to a benevolent design, since it is a desire of happiness, which\nhas been given to serve as the motive of all our actions? We should\nindeed speak well of life, if we had not corrupted its comforts by\nartificial sentiments, which we have substituted instead of nature; if\nwe had not submitted so many realities to pride and vanity; if, instead\nof assisting each other to be happy, we had not employed our thoughts to\nmake others submit to us. Undoubtedly there are some sufferings annexed\nto our existence, as in the natural world there are apparent defects.\nLet us employ our minds on the most exalted subjects, and we shall no\nlonger be a prey to envy and discontent.\n\nIt is on the consideration of detached events; it is in some particular\ncircumstances, that we raise doubts about the goodness of God; but we\nimmediately discern it when we compare particulars which wound us, with\nthe great whole of which they make a part; we discover then, that the\nmisfortunes which we are so quickly offended with are a simple appendage\nof a general system, where all the characters of a beneficent\nintelligence are evidently traced. It is necessary then to view the\nwhole of life to discover the intention of the author of nature; and in\nmeditating in this manner, we shall return always to a sentiment of\nrespect and gratitude. This simple idea is very extensive in its\napplication; it seems to me, above all, that it serves to console us\nunder the ills of life; the man who is penetrated by it can say to\nhimself, the transitory evil to which I am subject, is perhaps one of\nthe inevitable effects of this universal harmony, the most noble and the\nmost extensive of all conceptions. Thus, in the moments when I bemoan my\nfate, I ought not to think myself forsaken, I ought not to accuse Him,\nwhose infinite wisdom is present to my view, Him whose general laws have\nso often appeared to me a visible expression of real goodness.\n\nIt is in vain, some will say, it is in vain that you would wish to make\nus attend to these considerations; we only remark, that our earthly\nhappiness is at least inferior to that which our imagination so readily\nforms the picture of; and we do not perceive, in such a disposition, the\nunion of perfections which ought to be ascribed to the Supreme Being.\n\nThis objection is presented under different forms in the writings of all\nthe enemies to religion; and they have drawn consequences, sometimes\nagainst the goodness of God, his power, his wisdom, and justice. It is\nnecessary, clearly to explain this difficulty, to be in a state to form\nto ourselves an idea of the perfection of an Infinite Being; but in all\nour attempts, we only carry to the extreme every quality which we\nconceive; instead of that, perfection in the works of the Creator,\nprobably consists in a kind of gradation and harmony, the secret of\nwhich we cannot either embrace, or penetrate; and we ought still more to\nbe on our guard, when we form any conception of the essence of the\nDeity, as by confining ourselves solely to reconcile his sovereign power\nwith his perfect goodness, we should never fix the boundary when these\ntwo properties will be in an equilibrium: for after having exhausted\nevery supposition, we might still ask, why the number of rational beings\nis not more extended? We might ask, why every grain of sand is not one\nof those beings? why there is not a number equal to that infinite\ndivisibility of which we form the idea? In short, from extreme to\nextreme, and always in arguing on the sovereign power, the least\ninanimate atom, the least void in nature, would appear a boundary to the\ngoodness of the Supreme Being. We see then to what a point we may\nwander, when we abandon common sense for the vague excursions of a\nmetaphysical spirit.\n\nI think, if no other proofs could be found, the power of God would be\nsufficient to demonstrate his goodness; for this power informs us every\ninstant, that if the Supreme Ruler of the World had intended the misery\nof rational beings, he would have had, to fulfil this intention, means\nas rapid as numerous. He needed not have created worlds; nor have made\nthem so convenient and beautiful; a terrific gulph, and eternal darkness\nmight have been sufficient to collect together those unfortunate beings,\nand make them feel their misery. Let us not dwell on these gloomy\nsubjects, let us follow a just emotion of gratitude; we shall be eager\nthen to render homage to that indelible character of love and goodness\nwhich we see stamped on all nature. An unknown power opens our eyes to\nthe light, and permits us to view the wonders of the universe: it\nawakens in us those enchanting sensations which first point out the\ncharms of life; it enriches us with that intellectual gift which\nre-assembles round us past ages, and the time to come; it confers, in an\nearly hour, an empire, by endowing us with those two sublime faculties,\nwill and liberty; in short, it renders us sensible to the real pleasure\nof loving and being beloved; and when, by the effect of a general plan,\nof which we have but an imperfect conception, it spreads here and there\nsome difficulties in the road of life; it seems to wish to soften them,\nby showing us always the future through the enchanting medium of the\nimagination. Could it be then without any interest or goodness, that\nthis magnificent system was conceived, and preserved by so many superb\ndemonstrations of wisdom and power? What should we be in the sight of\nthe Eternal, if he did not love us? We do not adorn his majestic\nuniverse, or lend to the dawn its magnificent colours; neither have we\ncovered the earth with a verdant carpet, or bid the celestial bodies\nrevolve in the immense expanse; he asked not counsel of us\u2014we should be\nnothing in his eyes, if he was indifferent to our gratitude, and if he\ntook not any pleasure in the happiness of his creatures.\n\nIn short, were we to turn our attention from so many striking proofs of\nthe goodness of God; were they to be effaced from our memory, we should\nstill find, in the recesses of our heart, a sufficient evidence of this\ncomfortable truth, we should perceive that we are good and affectionate,\nwhen not perverted by passion; and we should be led to think, that such\nan inclination in beings who have received every thing, must necessarily\nbe the seal of their Divine Author. In order to exalt this sentiment, we\nmust refer it continually to the idea of a Supreme Being; for there is,\nwe doubt not, a correspondence of instinct and reflection between our\nvirtue and the perfections of him who is the origin of all things; and\nprovided we do not resist our natural emotions, we shall perceive from\nthose very perfections all that is sufficient to excite our worship and\nadoration; above all, whatever is necessary to serve as an example for\nour conduct, and to afford principles of morality.\n\nI ought now to examine some important objections; for why should I fear\nto present them? a love for systems and opinions ought not to exist, in\ntreating a subject on which so many have expatiated, and which belongs\nequally to all men. Though we are allowed, when seeking truth eagerly,\nto wish to find it united to the sentiments which form our happiness,\nand the principles which are the foundation of public order.\n\nWe admit, say some, that there are many perfections peculiar to the\nSupreme Being, the study and knowledge of which ought to serve to\nsustain the laws of morality; but one of the essential properties of the\ndivine essence oversets the whole structure, it is prescience: for, as\nGod knows beforehand what we are to do, it follows, that all our actions\nare irrevocably determined; and thus man is not free. And, if such is\nhis condition, he deserves neither praise nor censure; he has no means\nof pleasing or displeasing the Supreme Being, and the ideas of good and\nevil, of virtue and vice, are absolutely chimerical. I shall, at first,\nmake a very simple reply to this objection, but a very decisive one: it\nis that, if against appearances you should happen to persuade me, that\nthere now exists an absolute contradiction between the liberty of man\nand the prescience of the Deity, it is on the nature and extent of this\nprescience that I shall raise my doubts; for, forced to choose, I should\nrather mistrust the judgment of my own mind, than that of an internal\npersuasion. It is by these same considerations, that it will always be\nimpossible to prove to men that they are not free: we could only succeed\nwith the assistance of reasoning, and reasoning being already a\nbeginning of art, a kind of exterior combination of reflections, this\nmeans, in some measure out of us, would not have power to eradicate a\nsentiment which seems the first that we are conscious of.\n\nWe soon discover the limits of our faculties, in the efforts which we\nmake to acquire a just idea of the divine prescience: we can very well\nsuppose, that God foresees with certainty what we only conjecture about,\nand in extending without end the bounds which occur to our mind, we\nshall proportion in our imagination, the knowledge of the Creator to the\nimmensity of space, and to the infinity of time; but beyond these vague\nideas we shall err in all our speculations. How is it possible, that\nmen, who know not even the nature of their own souls, should be able to\ndetermine the nature of prescience? How is it possible, that they can\nknow whether this prescience is the effect of a rapid calculation of\nhim, who embraces at one glance the relation and effects of every moral\nand natural cause? how can they discern, whether this prescience, in an\nInfinite Being, is distinct from simple knowledge? How can they know\nwhether that Being, by a property beyond our conception, does not exist\nbefore and after events, whether he is not, in some manner, the\nintellectual time, and whether our divisions of years and ages, would\nnot disappear before his immoveable existence and eternal duration.\n\nIt results, however, from these considerations, that on account of our\nextreme ignorance we cannot accurately define prescience; but we are\nreduced to examine whether this prescience, considered in a general\nmanner, is incompatible with the liberty of man.\n\nThis opinion, I think, should not be adopted. Prescience does not\ndetermine future events, for the mere knowledge of the future makes not\nthe future. It is not prescience which necessitates the actions of men,\nbecause it does not change the natural order of things; but all future\nevents are fixed, whether foreseen or not; for constraint and liberty\nconduct equally to a positive term: thus, all that will happen is as\nimmutable as that which is past, since the present was the future of\nyesterday, and will be to morrow the past. It is then abstractedly\ncertain, that an event, either foreseen or not, will take place some\ntime; but if liberty is not contrary to this inevitable certainty, how\nwould it be more so, because their exists a Being who is acquainted\npreviously with the precise nature of events? We may then say, with\ntruth, that the knowledge of the future is no more an obstacle to\nliberty, than the remembrance of the past; and prophecies, like\nhistories, are only recitals, whose place is not the same in the order\nof time; but not having any influence on events, do not constrain the\nwill, cannot enslave the sentiments, or subject men to the law of\nnecessity.\n\nWe will confess, however, that if prescience was founded on the\npossibility of calculating the actions of men, like the movements of an\norganized machine, liberty could not exist; but then it would not be\nprescience which opposed this liberty, it would be because we are\nautomatons; for with such a constitution we should be without liberty,\nwere even the Supreme Being not to have any knowledge of futurity.\n\nIt is in vain, in order to convince us we are not free, that some would\nrepresent us as necessarily submitting to the impulse of various\nexterior objects; comprehending, among those objects, every thing that\nis subtle in moral ideas, and uniting them under the general name of\nmotives, and giving afterwards to these motives a physical force which\nwe are bound to obey; but to be free, is it necessary that we act\nwithout motives? then man would be indeed evidently a piece of\nmechanism. It is certain, that we are, in all our actions, determined by\nreason, taste, or a cause of preference; but it is our mind which\ncomprehends these various considerations, which weighs, compares, and\nmodifies; it is our mind which listens to the counsels of virtue, and\nwhich replies to the language of our passions; it is in order to\nenlighten itself that it borrows from the memory the succours of\nexperience; it is then our mind which prepares, composes, and improves\nevery thing which we term motives, and it is after this intellectual\nlabour that we act. There is too much order, unity, and harmony in our\nthoughts, to allow us to suppose them the mere effect of exterior\nobjects; which, under the form of ideas, come without order to impress\nthemselves on our brain; and until we are made acquainted with the works\nof chaos, we shall believe with reason that every where there is that\nunity, that order; that there is a faculty capable of re-assembling\nevery thing that is scattered, and uniting to one end all that is mixed\nwithout design.\n\nAs soon as we are impelled to believe, that there is a master of all our\nperceptions, and that we feel this master act, how is it possible not to\nbe certain that it is our mind which acts? It is then, in breaking loose\nfrom its operations, that we are stripped of our liberty, and that we at\nlength suppose that our will is the necessary consequence of all\nexterior objects, as if it were the colours, and not the painter, which\nproduced a picture. However, if we secure our mind from that dependence\nto which some wish to reduce it, our actions will not obey these\nirresistible emotions; for if they grant that we have liberty of\nthought, we have free will.\n\nWe ought to consider our senses as messengers, which bring to our mind\nnew subjects of reflection; but they are in such a manner subordinate to\nthe sublime part of ourselves, that they act only under direction;\nsometimes the ruling principle commands them to bring representations of\nthe beauties of nature, to examine assiduously the registers of the\nhuman mind, to take the rule and the compass, and render an exact\naccount of that which it desires to know with precision; sometimes they\nare taught to acquire more power, and when the soul wishes to\ncommunicate with men, when it wishes to address posterity, it orders\nthem to perpetuate in indelible characters all that it has maturely\ncombined, all that it has discovered, and all it hopes to add to the\ntreasures of our knowledge. Is it not the master rather than the slave\nof our senses, or the blind play of their caprice?\n\nThere is besides another observation, which seems to contrast with the\nabsolute empire, that some are willing to grant to exterior objects over\nthe powers of our soul; for it is in the silence of meditation that the\naction of our mind is not interrupted: we experience that we have the\npower of recalling past ideas, and that we can connect those ideas with\nthe prospect of the future, and to various imaginary circumstances of\nwhich we compose this picture; our reflection is then the result, but\nnot the work of those exterior objects we are acquainted with. These two\nwords, work and result, which in some acceptations have a great\nresemblance, have here very different meanings; and it is only in\nconfounding them, that the objection against the existence of our\nliberty is favoured. We cannot form any judgment, without previously\ndiscussing every argument proper to throw a light on the subject; and\nthe result of such enquiries determines our will; but these enquiries\nare themselves the work of our mind.\n\nIn short, all the degrees which lead to the end of our intellectual\nresearches, are simple antecedents, and not absolute motives: there is,\nin the operations of our mind, as in every thing which is not\nimmoveable, a train of causes and effects; but this train does not\ncharacterize necessity more than liberty.\n\nIn restoring thus to our soul its original dignity, do you not perceive,\nthat we approach nearer to nature, than in adopting those systems and\nexplications which assimilate our intellectual faculties to the regular\nvibrations of a pendulum? or would you like better still to compare them\nto those little balls which go out of their niches to strike our brain,\nwhich by various ramifications, produce that shock which impels our\nwill? I see, in all this, only childish figures, put in the place of\nthose names which indicate at least, by their abstraction, the\nindefinite extent of the ideas which they represent, and the respect\nthey merit. It is easy to call a motive a little moving ball; it is easy\nto call uncertainty or repentance the combat of two of these balls, till\nthe arrival of a third forms a determination; and the concurrence of\nmany to the same point excites, in us, an impetuous passion: but who\nsees not that, after having endeavoured to debase the functions of the\nmind by these wretched comparisons, the difficulty remains undiminished?\n\nIn short, if the meditations and the researches of our minds, on the\nexistence and the nature of our liberty, presents us only impenetrable\nclouds and obscurity, is it not singular, that in the midst of this\ndarkness we should reject all the information of our instinctive\nsentiments, which only can clearly explain every thing that we in vain\nsearch for by other means? What would you say of a man born blind, who\nwould not be directed by the voice? We are assuredly better instructed\nin the constitution of our nature by our feelings, than by metaphysical\narguments! they compose an internal part of the essence of our soul; and\nwe ought to consider them, in some measure, as a sally of the\nincomprehensible formation, whose mysteries we cannot penetrate. Such a\ndoctrine, which came to us from a divine hand, is more deserving of\nconfidence than the interpretations of men. There are secrets which\nphilosophers try in vain to explain, all their efforts are useless to\nrepresent by comparison, that which is alone and without resemblance.\n\nOne would think, that nature, guessing the false reasoning which would\nmislead us, has purposely bestowed an inward conviction of the existence\nof our free will, in composing our natural life of two movements very\ndistinct: one depends on a necessity, whose laws we are not acquainted\nwith, and do not govern; whilst the other is entirely submitted to the\ngovernment of our reason. Such a comparison would be sufficient to\nconvince us, if we sought merely for the truth.\n\nWhen Spinosa desired to throw contempt on our instinctive perceptions,\nhe said, it is the same as if a weather-cock, at the very moment it was\nthe plaything of the winds, believed itself to be the cause, and\nconsequently that it had free will. What signifies such an argument,\nunless it is to prove, that it is possible to suppose a fiction so\nperfect, that it would apparently be equivalent to a reality? But I\nwould ask, by what foolish design of an intelligent being, or even by\nwhat fortuitous assemblage of blind nature, is it that man should have\nevery moment a will precisely conformable to his actions, if there is\nnot a real correspondence between every part?\n\nWe could oppose to the hypothesis of Spinosa another argument, which\nwould lead to a conclusion absolutely contrary; that is, if the most\napparent liberty may be only a fiction, by a particular concurrence of\nour will with an action ordained; it is also incontestible, that were we\nto suppose the existence, or simple possibility of a free-will, we could\nnot have a different idea of it, than that which we have already; and\nthe liberty of God himself would not appear to our thoughts under any\nother form. It is very essential to remark, that when we reflect about\nour faculties, we with ease imagine a superior degree of intelligence,\nof knowledge, of memory, of foresight, and of every other property of\nour understanding; liberty is the only part of ourselves to which our\nimagination cannot add any thing.\n\nI shall not pursue other subtle arguments, which have been produced, to\ncorroborate my opinion; it is not to some men, but to all, that I desire\nto speak, because I wish to be universally useful: I shall then always\ndwell on the principal reflections, whenever they appear to me\nsufficient to influence the opinion of sound minds, and to fix them on\nthose important truths which are the surest foundation of public\nhappiness. Self-love might induce many to follow a question as far as it\nwould go, and vainly glory in spinning it out; but self-love, applied to\nprofound meditations, is itself a great subtilty.\n\nLet us examine other arguments used to combat principles which we have\nestablished. It is in vain, some will say, to endeavour to prove the\nexistence of a God, as a real support of the laws of morality; all this\nsystem will fall to pieces, if we are not informed, at the same time, in\nwhat manner this God rewards and punishes.\n\nI shall observe, at first, that such an objection cannot make a very\ndeep impression, but when it is connected in our minds with some doubt\nof the existence of a Supreme Being: a question that I shall not yet\ntreat; for supposing an internal conviction of this last truth,\nsupposing, in all its force, the idea of a God present to our thoughts;\nI ask, whether in order to please Him, we should not have need of\nknowing precisely the period when we could perceive distinct signs of\nhis approbation and beneficence? I ask, again, whether, to avoid\nincurring His displeasure, it would be equally necessary for us to know\nhow, and in what manner, He would punish us? Undoubtedly not: for in\ntaking a comprehensive view of the rewards and punishments which may\nproceed from a Supreme Being, struck with His grandeur, and astonished\nby His power, the vague idea of infinity would obtrude; and this idea,\nso awful, would suffice to govern our sentiments, and fix our principles\nof conduct. We should be careful not to propose conditions to Him who\nhas drawn us out of nothing, and we should wait with respect for the\nmoment, when, in His profound wisdom, He may think proper to make us\nbetter acquainted with His attributes. Men may say to each other, secure\nmy wages, I want them on such a day, I demand them on such an hour; they\nbarter things of equal value, and during a short space of time; but in\nthe intercourse of man with the Deity, what a difference!\u2014The creature\nand the Creator\u2014the child of dust and the source of life\u2014a fleeting\nmoment and eternity\u2014an imperceptible atom and the Infinite Being!\u2014our\nunderstanding is struck by the contrast! How then should we adapt to\nsuch disproportions the rules and notions which we have introduced into\nour trivial transactions? You require that in order to feel the desire\nof pleasing the Supreme Being, He should every moment bestow gifts on\nthose, who, by their sentiments and actions, appear worthy of his\ngoodness; and, to inspire the fear of offending Him, you wish that,\nwithout delay, He would let His vengeance crush the wicked. Certainly\nyou would be scrupulous observers of His will on such conditions, for\nless stable hopes and fears detain you servilely near a monarch; and I\nmay venture to say, that you would be equally attentive to the Ruler of\nthe World, if, in order to reward or punish you, he was to alter the\nlaws of nature.\n\nBut do we not, you may add, see that God does not interfere in any\nmanner to direct things here below: you do not perceive Him; but do you\nmore clearly discover the power which gives life and motion? It is not\nbecause He does not exist, but because He is above the flight of your\nmind. We do not know what to say to a man who rejects the opinion of the\nexistence of a God; for without that guide all our ideas are wandering,\nand have not any other connexion but that of the wildest imagination;\nbut if you grant that the world had an origin, if you suppose a God,\ncreator and preserver, what arguments would you use to induce us to\nbelieve that this God has no relation to us; that He does not take any\nnotice of us, and that He is thus separated from the offspring of His\nintelligence and love? You add, vice is every where triumphant, an\nhonest man often languishes in despondency and obscurity; and you cannot\nreconcile this injustice with the idea of a Divine Providence! One may\nat first deny the assertion which forms the basis of this reproach, or\ndispute at least the consequences that are drawn from it: these ideas of\ntriumph and abasement, of splendour and obscurity, are sometimes very\nforeign to the internal sentiments, which only constitute happiness and\nmisery; and for my part, I am persuaded, that if we take for a rule of\ncomparison, not some particular situation, or some, scattered events,\nbut the whole of life, and the generality of men; we shall then find,\nthat the most constant satisfactions attend those minds which are filled\nwith a mild piety, firm and rational, such as the pure idea of the Deity\nought to inspire; and I am equally persuaded, that virtue, united to\nthis piety, which knows how to soften every sacrifice, is the safest\nguide in the path of life. Perhaps, ignorant as we are of our nature and\ndestination, it is not our interest that uninterrupted rewards should\nexcite us to virtue; for if this virtue were our title and hope with God\nfor the present, and the time to come, we ought not to desire that it\nshould degenerate into an evident calculation, into a sentiment\nbordering on selfishness. It would then be very difficult to give a\nproper definition of liberty, if, by the effect of rapid justice, a\nconstant proportion of good and evil, accompanied every determination of\nour mind; we should then, morally as well as physically, be impelled by\nan imperious instinct, and the merit of our actions would be absolutely\ndestroyed.\n\nI mean by all this to ask, what would be our merit or demerit, if our\nlife is only for an instant, and if nothing is to follow? The persuasion\nof the existence of a God, without a certainty of the immortality of our\nsoul, cannot impose any obligation; but the real connexion between these\ntwo ideas is too frequently overlooked.\n\nUndoubtedly, left to our understanding, this word certainty is not made\nfor us, or at least it is not applicable to our relation with the Deity,\nand to the judgment we form of his designs and will. We are too far\nremoved from the High and lofty One, who inhabiteth eternity, to pretend\nto measure His thoughts by our bounded views. They are covered with a\nveil, and we always obscurely discern that which is hid in the depths of\nHis wisdom: but the more this God, whom we adore, escapes by His\nimmensity from our conceptions, the less have we a right to limit His\nperfections, in order to refuse Him the power of transporting our\nexistence beyond the narrow circle submitted to our view; and I know not\nhow it would be possible to persuade us, that this action of the Deity\nwould surpass in grandeur the creation of the world, or the formation of\nanimated beings: the habit of observing a great wonder may weaken our\nastonishment, but should not eradicate our admiration.\n\nWe cannot reach, but by reflection, to those events of which the future\nis still the depository; but if every thing which surrounds us attests\nthe grandeur of the Supreme Being; if the mind, in its meditations,\nwithout terror, approaches the confines of infinity, why mistrust that\nhe can perform in favour of men, a magnificent union of Omnipotence and\nperfect goodness? Why reject, as an absurd confidence, the idea of\nanother existence? We see, without astonishment, the feeble chrysalis\nforce its way from the tomb it wove for itself, and appear under a new\nform. We cannot be anticipated witnesses of the perpetuity of our\nintelligence; but its vast extent would appear to us, were we not\nfamiliarized with it, a greater ph\u0153nomenon than duration.\n\nIn short, why do I resist an idea of a continuation of existence, since\nI am forced to give credit to my birth? There is a greater distance from\nnothing to life, than from life to its sequel, or renewal under a new\nform: I am clearly acquainted with the commencement of existence, I know\ndeath only by conjecture. We now enjoy the light and blessings brought\nto us by a beneficent heavenly Teacher; could it be, that he alone would\nbe a stranger to his own glory and virtues? I cannot say, why this\ncontrast makes an impression on me; but it is among the number of\nsuperficial ideas which occur to my mind, when I reflect on this\nsubject.\n\nA comforting thought still strikes me, the natural order of the universe\nappears to me a finished system: we perceive a perfect regularity\nbetween the revolution of the heavenly bodies, an invariable succession\nin vegetable life, an almost incredible precision in that immense\nquantity of volatile particles submitted to the laws of affinity; and\nthink every thing in its right place, and that all fulfil exactly their\ndestination in the grand and complete system of nature.\n\nBut if we turn afterwards our attention on the multitude of beings\ninferior to men, we shall discover also, that their action is as\ncomplete and conformable in every respect to the faculties they are\nendowed with, since they are governed by an imperious instinct. Full of\nthese ideas, struck with astonishment at the appearance of an harmony so\ngeneral, have we not just grounds to presume, that man, transported into\ninfinite space by his intelligence; that man, susceptible of\nimprovement, and continually combatting obstacles; that man, in short,\nthis most noble work of nature, only commences in this sublunary world\nhis race? And, since all which composes the material order of the\nuniverse appears to us in an harmony so admirable, ought we not then to\nconclude, that the moral order in which we perceive some things vague\nand not determinate; that the moral order is connected with another life\nmore sublime and more astonishing than the other parts of creation, and\nwill one day be ultimately developed? This singular disproportion\nbetween the harmony of the physical and apparent confusion of the moral\nworld, seems to announce a time of equilibrium and completion; a time\nwhen we shall all know its relation with the wisdom of the Creator, as\nwe already perceive the wisdom of His designs, in the perfect agreement\nof the innumerable blessings on sature with the present wants of man,\nand every other animated creature.\n\nThe grandeur of the human mind is indeed a vast subject of reflection;\nthis marvellous constitution seems to remind us perpetually of a design\nproportioned to such a noble conception; it seems almost unnecessary\nthat God should have endowed the soul with such noble faculties for such\na short life as ours, to fulfil its limited plans and trivial pursuits:\nthus every thing authorizes us to carry our views further; were I to see\nsuch men as Columbus, Vesputius, Vasco de Gama, in a ship, I should not\nsuppose that they were mere coasters.\n\nSome try to destroy our hopes, by endeavouring to prove, that the soul\nis material, and that it ought to be assimilated to every thing which\nperishes before us; but the forms only change, the vivifying force does\nnot perish; perhaps the soul resembles it, but with this difference,\nthat as it is composed of memory, reflection, and foresight, it exists\nonly by a series of consequences, which forms the distinct attributes\nand particular character of its essence: it follows then, that it cannot\nbe generalized like the blind force which animates in a universal manner\nvegetation; but that every soul is in some measure a world to itself,\nand that it ought to preserve separately an identity of interest, and\nconsciousness of preceding thoughts. Thus, in this system, the corporeal\nbody, which distinguishes us to the eyes of others, is only the\ntransitory habitation of that soul which is not to die; of that soul\nsusceptible of continual improvement, and which, by degrees we can have\nno idea of, will probably approach insensibly to that magnificent\nperiod, when it will be thought worthy of knowing more intimately the\nAuthor of Nature.\n\nHow can we conceive the action of the soul on our senses, without a\npoint of contact? and how conceive that contact, without the idea of\nmatter? For it is only by experience we are acquainted with the\nnecessity of it to occasion a motion; and without that previous\nknowledge, the rapidity with which one body sometimes strikes another,\ncould only have been represented by the length of time necessary for its\napproach to it: however, if we had not any metaphysical knowledge of the\ncause of motion, and if experience only guided our judgment in this\nrespect, why resist an idea that there is within us a faculty which acts\nof itself? the intimate feeling which we have of it, is certainly an\nargument for its existence. We cannot, besides, maintain, that a like\nproperty may be opposite to the nature of things; since if we adopt the\nsystem of the creation of the world, this property may proceed, like all\nothers, from the Divine Power; and if we admit, on the contrary, the\nirreligious opinion of the eternity of the universe, there must have\nbeen from eternity a general movement without impulsion, without\nexterior contact, or any cause out of itself; and the action of our\nsouls might be subject to the same laws.\n\nThe idea of the necessity of a contact, to effect a movement, would\nnever have occurred, if we had bounded our observations to the influence\nof our ideas on our determinations, and the influence of those\ndeterminations on our physical being. In short, the laws of attraction\nand repulsion are subject to great exceptions; which exceptions may\nserve to support the system of the spirituality of the soul. We may be\nallowed to say, that there exists a vacuum in the universe, since,\nwithout this vacuum, there could not have been any motion? It is known\nthat this motion depends on the laws of attraction but how can\nattraction act through a vacuum, unless it is by a spiritual force,\nwhich acts without contact, and notwithstanding the absolute\ninterruption of matter? It is then this force, or its equivalent, that I\nmay adopt to define the cause of the impressions of which our souls are\nsusceptible.\n\nLet others explain, in their turn, by what material communication, the\nsight of a few immoveable characters, traced on insensible marble,\ndisturbs my soul. It is very easy to comprehend by what mechanism the\neye distinguishes these characters; but there ends the physical action,\nfor we cannot attribute to that action, the general power of producing\nsensations in the mind, since, perhaps, many other men may consider the\nsame characters, without receiving any impression.\n\nIt is very possible, that our intellectual preceptions have not any\nconnection with motion, such as we conceive it. Our interior nature,\nwhich we distinguish by the name of immaterial, is probably subject to\nlaws very different from those which govern nature in general; but as we\nare obliged to apply to the mysteries of our souls, those expressions\nwhich serve to delineate or to interpret the ph\u0153nomena submitted to our\ninspection; these expressions, and their continual use, have insensibly\nhabituated us to certain opinions, about the causes and developement of\nour intellectual faculties. It is thus that, after having used the words\nmotion, rest, agitation, and action, to discriminate different\naffections of our souls, of which we know very little, we have\nafterwards assimilated them, foolishly, to our moral nature, to all the\nideas which were represented by these denominations; and even death\nitself, of which we have not any clear knowledge, but by the dissolution\nof our physical being; death, an image borrowed from things which are\nunder the inspection of our senses, has not, perhaps, either relation or\nanalogy with the nature and essence of our spirit; all these are\nincomprehensible secrets, not mixt with any thing we are acquainted\nwith.\n\nWe act, in this respect, like men born deaf, who apply to sounds those\nterms which they were accustomed to use, to express the sensations the\nother senses produced.\n\nI shall only add another observation to the ideas on which I have just\ndwelt: perhaps we should never have thought of applying the words which\nexpress action and motion, to all the operations of our souls, if we had\nnot at first divided our spiritual being into a great number of\ndependencies, such as attention, reflection, thought, judgment,\nimagination, memory, and foresight; and if afterwards, in order to\nrender intelligible the variable relations of these abstract parts of\nour mind (these parts of a unit which we have taken to pieces, though it\ncomposed that single being ourself) we had not been obliged to have\nrecourse to some plain expressions, like those of action, motion,\nattraction, and repulsion; but this familiar use of these expressions,\nin order to explain the accidents of our intellectual system, very much\nresembles the use which we make of X in Algebra, to express unknown\nterms.\n\nIn short, were we to submit the action of our souls to the laws of a\nparticular movement, forming one of the dependencies of the great one,\nwe should still have to explain the cause of the consciousness that we\nhave of this action, which Atheists refuse to nature itself, at the very\nmoment they make it the God of the Universe. Were reasoning able to\nsubject all the operations of our mind to the impressions of external\nobjects, we could not rank under the same laws, that consciousness which\nwe have of our existence, and of the different faculties of the soul.\nThis consciousness is not an effect, or the production of any known\nforce, since it has been always in us independent of any external\nobject, consequently we cannot investigate it. The conception of the\nexistence of our souls, is as incomprehensible to us as that of\neternity; what a profound thought, which even our imagination cannot\nembrace!\n\nLet us admit, however, for a moment, that all the operations of our\nsouls are determined by some impulsion, whatever it may be, we shall\nstill be struck with the absolute difference which exists, according to\nour knowledge between the regular movements of matter, and the almost\ninfinite and unaccountable emotions of our hearts and minds; so variable\nand so differently modified, that the attention is lost in the\nexamination of them. And after having vainly endeavoured to conceive the\nunion established between our thoughts and exterior objects, we have\nstill to form an idea of the actions of these thoughts on themselves,\ntheir progression and connection; our mind led astray, lost in such a\nmeditation, leaves us only a consciousness of our weakness, and we feel,\nthat there is an intellectual altitude which the human faculties can\nnever reach.\n\nWe distinguish, in a single character which our judgment can decypher,\nan absolute difference between soul and matter: we cannot avoid\nrepresenting the latter as infinitely divisible, whilst, on the\ncontrary, all the efforts of our imagination could never divide that\nindivisible unit which composes the soul, and which is the sovereign\nover our will, thoughts, and all our faculties[5].\n\nBut if we examine again, under another appearance, the properties of\nmatter, we know not how to assimilate to them the emotions of our soul;\nfor we distinctly feel those emotions, let their number be ever so\nnumerous, when even they act together and terminate in the same center,\nwhich is that Indivisible Being before alluded to; whereas matter, by an\nessential property, cannot, in the same instant be pressed or struck in\nseveral manners, unless it is in parts which have a tendency to\ndifferent centres.\n\nThere is not then any resemblance between the impressions that our souls\nreceive, and the various effects which may be attributed to the action\nof all the material substances of which we can form any conception: they\nare always connected with the idea of space and extent; but that centre,\nwhere all our perceptions meet, that Judge, who dictates laws in the\ninternal empire, whose revolutions we only know, that last Director of\nour will, this Indivisible Being, at the same time our friend and\nmaster, is not to be found in any compounded idea; and this unity so\nsimple, ought necessarily to convince us, that nothing which is\nsubmitted to the dominion of our senses, can serve as a type of the idea\nwhich we are to form of the soul.\n\nWe discover the traces of this truth, when we fix our attention on the\ncomparisons with which our spiritual unit, our identical self, is\ncontinually occupied: we imagine it seated on a throne, listening, and\nexamining the various reasons which ought to determine its action; we\nsee it, like Nero, yielding sometimes to Narcissus, and sometimes to\nBurrhus; but at the same time we distinctly perceive all the\ncounsellors, all the flatterers, all the enemies which surround it; we\nnever remark but a single master in the midst of the tumult and the\nintrigues of this court.\n\nWhilst our soul then is thrown into motion by contemplation, and by the\nimperceptible modification of a fugitive idea, as well as by every thing\nwhich is opposed to material action, why should we not suppose that it\nis purely intelligent and spiritual? It must be confessed, that\nsometimes our corporeal infirmities influence our minds; but this\nrelation is not a proof of identity, since our body may be an instrument\nentrusted to our soul, one of the organs which it is to make a\ntransitory use of. The continuity of existence, considered abstractedly,\ncertainly is in the universe a simple and natural state; and the\ntemporary existence is perhaps the only one which is heterogeneous and\naccidental; the soul seems too noble to be assimilated to the latter\nstate, it may exist in a different manner when joined to a material\nsubstance, but that connection does not make it lose its original\nessence.\n\nIt is to be acknowledged, that it is through the medium of our senses we\nknow all the force of our existence; and that they are those parts of\nour mixt being which strike us most during a little while; and it is\nperhaps by a law of the same kind that we see men, engrossed by a great\npassion, entirely strangers to every other moral affection; but, why\nshould it be contrary to the nature of things, that the soul, once\nstripped of its terrestrial cloathing, should be acquainted with the\nnature of its existence, and at the same time perceive those truths\nwhich now are obscured by clouds. An innate fire languishes a long time\nunknown in a rough stone, that stone is struck, and we see issue out a\nsplendid light; this is perhaps a faint picture of the state in which\nour soul is when death breaks its fetters.\n\nIn short, in a matter so obscure every supposition is admissable, which\nassures us that the soul is not on earth in a state of enchantment, or\nin a kind of interruption of its ordinary existence. All that we see of\nthe universe is an assemblage of incomprehensible ph\u0153nomena; and when we\nwish to discover the conclusion, through the aid of the ideas most on a\nlevel with our intelligence, we wander perhaps from truth; since,\naccording to appearances, it is in the depths of infinity that it\nreposes.\n\nI doubt, whether we can allow the authority of those metaphysical\narguments which are made use of to defend the spirituality of the soul\nto be decisive; but they are sufficient to repulse the different attacks\nof materialists. The most evident opinion to me is, that we are too weak\nto comprehend the secret we search for. We have, according to our petty\nknowledge, divided the universe into two parts, spirit and matter; but\nthis division serves only to distinguish the little we know from that\nwhich we have no knowledge of; there is perhaps an infinite gradation\nbetween the different properties which compose motion and life, instinct\nand intelligence; we can only express the ideas conceived by our\nunderstandings, and the general words which we make use of, serve only\nto detect the vain ambition of our mind; but with respect to the\nuniverse, in considering its immensity, we shall find, that there is\nsufficient space for all the shades and modifications we have no idea\nof. We confess, that it is the connection between our physical powers\nand intellectual faculties, and the action that they seem to have on\neach other, which nourishes our doubts and anxieties; but without this\nrelation, without the appearance of our fall, all would be distinct in\nthe fate of man, all would be manifest. It is then, because that there\nis a shade in the midst of the picture, which continually catches our\nattention, that we have need to collect the light of the mind and the\nfeelings, in order to see in perspective our destiny; and it is from\nthis motive that we find it necessary, above all, to be penetrated with\nthe idea of a God, and to search for, in his power and goodness, the\nlast explication which we want.\n\nThere is, in the judgments of men, a contrast which I have often been\nstruck with. Those people, who, at the sight of the immensity of the\nuniverse, at the view of the wonders in the midst of which they are\nplaced, fear not to attribute to our intellectual faculties the power of\ninterpreting and understanding every thing, and even the capacity of\nattaining almost to the hidden secrets of our nature; these same people\nare nevertheless most eager to strip the soul of its true dignity, and\nthe most obstinate in refusing it spirituality and duration, and every\nthing else which can exalt it.\n\nBut happily, these refusals or concessions fix not our fate: the nature\nof the soul will always be as unknown as the essence of the Supreme\nBeing; and it is one of the proofs of its grandeur, to be wrapped up in\nthe same mysteries which hide from us the universal spirit. But there\nare simple ideas and sentiments, which seem to bring along with them\nmore comfort and hope than metaphysical arguments.\n\nWe cannot profoundly meditate on the marvellous attributes of thought;\nwe cannot attentively contemplate the vast empire which has been\nsubmitted to it, or reflect on the faculty with which it is endowed, of\nfixing the past, approaching the future, and bringing into a small\ncompass the expanded views of nature, and of containing, if I may use\nthe phrase, in one point the infinity of space, and the immensity of\ntime; we cannot consider such a wonder, without continually uniting a\nsentiment of admiration to the idea of an end worthy of such a grand\nconception, worthy of Him whose wisdom we adore. Shall we, however, be\nable to discover this end, in the passing breath, in the fleeting\nmoments which compose life? Shall we be able to discover it in a\nsuccession of phantoms, which seem destined only to trace the progress\nof time? Shall we, above all, perceive it in this general system of\ndestruction? and ought we to annihilate in the same manner the\ninsensible plant, which perishes without having known life; and the\nintelligent man, who every day explores the charms of existence? Let us\nnot thus degrade our fate and nature; and let us judge and hope better\nof that which is unknown. Life, which is a means of improvement, should\nnot lead to an eternal death; the mind, that prolific source of\nknowledge, should not be lost in the dark shades of forgetfulness;\nsensibility and all its mild and pure emotions, which so tenderly unite\nus to others, and enliven our days, ought not to be dissipated as if it\nwere the vapour of a dream; conscience, that severe judge was not\nintended to deceive us; and piety and virtue are not vainly to elevate\nour views towards that model of affection, the object of our love and\nadoration. The Supreme Being, to whom all times belong, seems already to\nhave sealed our union with futurity by endowing us with foresight, and\nplacing in the recesses of our heart the passionate desire of a longer\nduration, and the confused sentiment which it gives of obtaining it.\nThere are some relations still obscure, some connections between our\nmoral nature and futurity; and perhaps our wishes, our hopes, are a\nsixth sense, a faint sense, if I may be allowed to express myself so, of\nwhich we shall one day experience the satisfaction. Sometimes also I\nimagine, that love, the most noble ornament of our nature, love, sublime\nenchantment, is a mysterious pledge of the truth of these hopes; for in\ndisengaging us from ourselves, transporting us beyond the limits of our\nbeing, it seems the first step towards an immortal nature; and in\npresenting to us the idea, in offering to us the example of an existence\nout of ourselves, it seems to interpret by our feelings that which our\nminds cannot comprehend.\n\nIn short, and this reflection is the most awful of all, when I see the\nmind of man grasp at the knowledge of a God; when I see him, at least,\ndraw near to such a grand idea; such a sublime degree of elevation\nprepares me, in some manner, for the high destiny of the soul; I search\nfor a proportion between this immense thought and all the interests of\nthe world, and I discover none; I search for a proportion between these\nboundless meditations and the narrow picture of life, and I perceive\nnone: there is then, I doubt not, some magnificent secret beyond all\nthat we can discern; some astonishing wonder behind this curtain still\nunfurled; on all sides we discover the commencement of it. How imagine,\nhow resolve the thought, that all which affects and animates us, all\nwhich guides and captivates us, is a series of enchantments, an\nassemblage of illusions? The universe and its majestic pomp would then\nhave been only destined to serve as the theater of a vain\nrepresentation; and such a grand idea, so magnificent a conception would\nhave had for an object a mere dazzling chimera. What would then have\nsignified that mixture of real beauties and false appearances? What had\nsignified that concourse of phantoms, which, without design or end,\nwould be less admirable than a ray of light, destined to enlighten our\nabode? In short, what had signified in men that union of sublime\nthoughts and deceitful hopes? Guard us from giving credit to such a\nsupposition! Is it to Him then, whose power has not any limits, that we\ndare to attribute the artifices of weakness? Should we have seen every\nwhere order, design, and exactness, as far as our understanding can\nreach, and as soon as we are arrived at the utmost boundary of our\nfaculties, should we stop the views of the Supreme Intelligence, and\nimagine that all is finished, because futurity is unknown? Alas! we\nendure but a moment, and we presume to know the past and the future! But\ngrant us only the idea of a God; do not deprive us of our confidence in\nHim; it is in relying on that grand truth, that we shall be able to\nguard our hopes against all the metaphysical arguments which we are not\nimmediately prepared to answer.\n\nWould you object, that hope is not sufficient to determine men to the\nobservance of morality, and to subject them to the sacrifices which the\npractice of virtue seems to impose? What then attracts them, in all the\nbustle of life, unless it is hope; what is it that renders them greedy\nof honour and of fortune, unless it is expectation? And when they obtain\nthe object of their wishes, they have frequently only the imaginary\nadvantages hope created. Why then would you ask for a demonstrated\ncertainty, in order to devote yourself to all the researches which the\nhuman mind can conceive to be the most grand, the most worthy of an\nardent pursuit? On the contrary, the most trifling degree of expectation\nshould become a motive of encouragement. And what is it, of all our\ninterests, which could be put in competition with the most fugitive\nidea, with the slightest hope of pleasing the Master of the World, and\nmaintaining the intercourse which seems to be indicated by our natural\nsentiments, and by the first perceptions of our minds?\n\nI would wish to go still further, and I would demand, not of all men,\nbut of some at least, if, were even this life to be their only heritage,\nthey would think themselves freed from the desire of pleasing the\nSovereign Author of Nature. The moment that is given us to know and\nadmire Him, would it not still be a blessing? We celebrate the memory of\nthose princes who have done good to men; are we not to do the same with\nHim to whom we are indebted for our existence; to Him who has contrived,\nif I may be allowed to say so, the various enjoyments we are so\nunwilling to detach ourselves from? Shall we dare, weak and ignorant as\nwe are, to measure the wisdom, and calculate the power of our\nBenefactor, and rashly reproach him for not having done more for us?\nThis would be the language of ingratitude. But, as I have shown, our\nsentiments have not been put to this test; and it is on more liberal\nterms that we have been admitted to treat with the Supreme Being: He has\nsurrounded us with every thing that can encourage our expectations; He\nallows us, by contemplation, to attain almost a knowledge of his\nperfections; He lets us read them in that collection of glory and\nmagnificence which the universe displays; He permits us to perceive his\npower and goodness, infinity and happiness; and by that succession of\nideas he has guided our wishes and our hopes. How grand is the\ncontemplation of the Eternal, they who have sensibility can tell! But\nthis idea should be very early implanted in the human heart, it is\nnecessary that it should be connected with our first feelings, that it\nshould rise by degrees, in order to gain strength before men are thrown\ninto the midst of that world which boasts of being freed from childish\nprejudices; left, hurried along by its levity, they follow every day a\nnew master, and render themselves the slaves of pleasure and vanity.\n\nAnd that which is to maintain, amongst men, the principles first\ninculcated, is public worship, an idea as beautiful as simple, and the\nmost proper to vivify all that is vague and abstract in reasoning and\ninstruction: public worship, in assembling men, and in turning them\nwithout public shame to their weaknesses, and in equalising every\nindividual before the Master of the world, will be, in this point of\nview a grand lesson of morality; but this worship, besides, habitually\nreminds some of their duty, and is for others a constant source of\nconsolation; in short, almost all men, astonished and overwhelmed by the\nideas of grandeur and infinity, which the appearance of the universe,\nand the exercise of their own thoughts, present to them, aspire to find\nrepose in the sentiment of adoration which unites them in a more\nintimate manner to God, than the developement of their reason ever will.\n\nWe should guard ourselves carefully from despising the emotions of\npiety, which cannot be separated from its advantages; and philosophers\nthemselves know not how far they would go, when they try to reduce the\ninterests of men to the narrow circle of demonstrated truths: that which\nwe perceive confusedly, is more precious than all we have a certain\nknowledge of; that which we anticipate, is of more value than the\nblessings scattered round us. Thus, we should be miserably impoverished,\nif they could retrench from the various comforts which we shall never\npossess, but through the aid of the imagination. However, if we take\nthis imagination as a guide and encouragement, when we are engaged in\nthe pursuits of fortune and ambition, and if the wise themselves find\nthat to be good which serves to nourish our passions, why would you\nreject it, when, simply more grand and more sublime in its object, it\nbecomes the support of our weaknesses, the safeguard of our principles,\nand the source of our most interesting consolations?\n\nIt is the part of legislators to study these truths, and to direct\ntowards them the spirit of laws, and the uncertain course of opinions.\nHow honourable is it for them to be called to form the august alliance\nwhich is to unite happiness with morality, and morality with the\nexistence of a God!\n\n\n\n\n                               CHAP. XII.\n                         _That there is a God._\n\n\nThat there is a God! How is it possible to avoid being penetrated with\nan awful respect in uttering these words? How reflect on them without\nthe deepest humility, and even an emotion of surprise, that man, this\nweak creature, this atom dispersed in the immensity of space, undertakes\nto add some weight to a truth, of which all nature is the splendid\nwitness? However, if this truth is our supreme good, if we are nothing\nwithout it, how can we banish it from our minds? Does it not constrain\nus to dwell continually on the subject? Compared with it, all other\nthoughts are insignificant and uninteresting; it gives birth to, and\nsustains all the sentiments on which the happiness of an intelligent\ncreature depends. I confess I tremblingly discussed the different\nobjections which are employed to destroy our confidence in the existence\nof a Supreme Being; I dreaded the melancholy which those arguments\nproduced; I was afraid to feel the impression of it myself, and thus to\nhazard the opinion most dear to my heart, and most essential to my\nhappiness; it appeared to me, that a few general ideas, supported by\nlively feelings, would have been sufficient for my tranquillity; and\nwithout an interest more extended, without the desire of opposing,\naccording to my powers, a spirit of indifference and false philosophy,\nwhich is every day gaining ground, I should never have stepped beyond my\ncircle. But, I am far from regretting the part I have taken: I have ran\nover, without much trouble, those books where the most pernicious\ndoctrines are ingeniously disseminated; and have thought that a person,\nendowed with common sense, on whom metaphysical subtleties were\nobtruded, would resemble those savages who are brought sometimes amongst\nus, and who, from the depraved refinement of our morals and manners,\nhave often recalled us, by some natural reflections, to those simple\nprinciples which we have abandoned, to those ancient truths whose\nvestiges are lost.\n\nThe whole structure of religion would be overturned, if, by the strength\nor artifices of reasoning, men could destroy our confidence in the\nexistence of a Supreme Being: morality, being detached from the opinions\nwhich sustain it, would remain a wavering, unsupported notion, only\ndefended by a policy, whose power time would insensibly weaken. A fatal\nlanguor invading every mind, where would be that universal interest,\nthat sentiment felt by all men, and proper to form a general alliance\nbetween them? Then those, who, with pure intentions, can only be guided\nand sustained by an intimate persuasion, would retire sad, and leave to\nothers the care of supporting moral order by fictions and falsehoods;\nthey would pity that dismayed race, called to appear and pass away like\nflowers, which bloom but for a day; they would despise those animated\nphantoms which only come to make a buz with their vanity and trivial\npassions, and fall in a little while into eternal oblivion. All that\nappears beautiful in the universe, and excites our enthusiasm, would\nsoon lose its splendour and enchantment, if we perceived nothing in this\nbrilliant scene but the play of some atoms, and the uniform walk of\nblind necessity; for it is always because a thing may be otherwise, that\nit acquires a claim to our admiration: in short, that soul, that spirit,\nwhich vivifies man, that faculty of thought which surprises and\nconfounds those who reflect, would only appear a vain movement, if\nnothing was before, or was to follow, if some unknown breath, or general\nintelligence, did not animate nature. But we have dwelt too long on\nthose gloomy thoughts; reassume your light and life, admirable works of\nGod; come and confound the pride of some, and comfort others; come and\ntake possession of our souls, and direct our affections towards Him whom\nwe ought to love, towards Him who is the eternal model of perfect\nwisdom, and unlimitted goodness!\n\nI shall not endeavour to prove that there is a God, by reciting all the\nwonders the works of nature display to our eyes; several celebrated\nwriters have already done it, and have missed their aim. Infinity can\nonly be represented by astonishment and respect, which overwhelms all\nour thoughts: and when we labour to explain the successive and varied\npicture of the wonders of nature, this change of objects is more\ncalculated to relax our admiration than to increase it; for any change\neases our mind, by affording those relaxations which our weakness has\nneed of; and if we were to investigate only one ph\u0153nomenon, we should\nsoon discover the utmost extent of our faculties. We find the limits of\nour understanding in the examination of the organization of the smallest\ninsect, as well as in observing the faculties of the soul; and the\nmysteries of the simplest vegetation is as far above the reach of our\nintelligence, as the principal agent of the universe.\n\nIt is then as a hymn of praise to the Supreme Being, and not as\nnecessary instruction that I freely follow the course of my thoughts. I\nshall begin by throwing a rapid glance on the principal characters of\nwisdom and grandeur, which we are all equally struck with, when we\ncontemplate the wonder of the universe.\n\nWhat a sight is that of the world! What a magnificent picture for those\nwho can be roused out of the state of indifference, in which habit has\nthrown them. We know not where to begin, or stop, when we expatiate on\nso many wonders; and the most noble of all is, the faculty which has\nbeen bestowed on us of admiring and conceiving them. What an astonishing\nand sublime relation is that of the innumerable beauties of nature, with\nthe intelligence which permits us to enjoy, and to be made happy by\nthem! What relation so surprising, as that of the order and harmony of\nthe universe, with the moral intelligence which enables us to anticipate\nthe enjoyments of wisdom and unclouded knowledge! Nature is immense, and\nall that it contains, all that it spreads with so much splendour, seems\nwithin the reach of our sensibility, or the powers of our mind; and\nthese faculties, invisible and incomprehensible, unite to form, that\nwonder of wonders, which we call felicity. Let not these plain words\nturn our attention from the magical ideas which they represent. It is\nbecause the grand ph\u0153nomena of our existence cannot either be defined or\nexpressed many ways, that they are so much more wonderful; and those\nwords, used by common consent, soul, mind, sensation, life, happiness,\nand many others besides, which we pronounce so slightly, confound not\nless our understanding, when we wish to discuss the essence of the\nproperties of which they are the sign. It is for this reason, among\nseveral others, that the admiration of particulars, in the works of\nnature, is always insufficient for those who have sensibility, as such\nadmiration is necessarily placed between two ideas susceptible of being\nknown; ideas which we connect through the aid of our own knowledge; but\nthe charm of our relation with the wonders which surround us, arises\nfrom experiencing every instant the impression of an infinite grandeur;\nand feeling the necessity of flying to that mild refuge of ignorance and\nweakness, the sublime idea of a God. We are continually carried towards\nthis idea by the vain efforts which we make, in order to penetrate the\nsecrets of our own nature; and when I fix my attention on those\nastonishing mysteries, which seem to terminate, in some manner, the\npower of our thoughts, I represent them with emotion, as the only\nbarrier which separates us from the infinite spirit, the source of all\nknowledge.\n\nMen endowed with the greatest genius, perceive quickly the bounds of\ntheir faculties when they wish to go very far in the study of abstract\nmetaphysical truths; but the simplest and least exercised mind, can\ndistinguish the proofs of that order, which announces with so much\nsplendour the end and design of sovereign wisdom. It seems, that all the\nknowledge proper to interest men has been placed within their reach. The\nlearned astronomer, observing the course of our globe round the sun,\nperceives the cause of that regular succession of repose and vegetation,\nwhich secures the earth its fecundity, and adorns every season with\nrenewed beauties; but the simple cultivator, who sees the treasurers of\nthe earth renovated every year, and answer, with singular precision, to\nthe wants of animated beings, is not less a witness of a ph\u0153nomenon\nwhich is sufficient to excite his admiration and gratitude! Newton\nanalyzed light, and calculated the swiftness with which it runs over the\nimmensity of space; but the ignorant herdsman, who sees, when he wakes,\nhis hut enlightened by the same rays which animate all nature, is\nequally benefitted by them. The indefatigable anatomist attains a just\nidea of our inimitable structure, and the ingenious texture of our\ndifferent organs; but the man most devoid of instruction, who reflects\nan instant on the pleasures, and the variety of the sensations, which we\nfind ourselves susceptible of, partakes the blessing equally.\n\nThe transcendent knowledge of some people, is a degree of superiority\nwhich disappears when contrasted with the incomprehensible grandeur of\nnature; when we contemplate infinity, those talents which exalt one man\nabove another are no more seen; and probably it is beyond the limits of\nour intelligence that the greatest wonders of nature begin. The\nknowledge of all ages has not explained what is the imperious authority\nof our will over our actions, nor how our thoughts could reach the most\nremote ages, how our souls could investigate that innumerable multitude\nof present objects, of recollections and anticipations; neither has it\ninformed us how all those excellencies of the mind, sometimes remain\nunknown to itself, nor how they are sometimes at its command, issuing\nout of their long obscurity, and succeeding each other with method, or\nare profusely poured forth. At the sight of these astonishing ph\u0153nomena,\nwe think man presumptuous, when, puffed up with pride, he mistakes the\nmeasure of his strength and wishes to penetrate into the secrets, whose\nconfines are shut by an invisible hand. He should be content to know,\nthat his existence is united to so many wonders; he should be satisfied\nwith being the principal object of the liberality of nature, and he\nshould adore with reverential respect that powerful Sovereign, who\nbestows so many blessings on him, and who has made him to sympathize\nwith all the powers of heaven and earth.\n\nThe globe on which we live runs over every year a space of two hundred\nmillions of leagues; and in this immense course, its distance from the\nsun, determined by immutable laws, is exactly proportioned to the degree\nof the temperature necessary to our feeble nature, and to the successive\nreturn of that precious vegetation, without which no animated being\ncould subsist.\n\nThat celestial body, which fertilizes the seeds of life shut up in the\nbosom of the earth, is, at the same time, the source of that light which\nopens to our view the glorious sight of the universe. The rays of the\nsun run over in eight minutes about thirty millions of leagues: such an\nimpetuous motion would be sufficient to pulverize the largest masses of\nmatter; but, by an admirable combination, such is the incomprehensible\ntenuity of these rays, that they strike the most tender of our organs,\nnot only without wounding it; but with a measure so delicate and\nprecise, that they excite in us those extatic sensations, which are the\norigin and the indispensable condition of our greatest enjoyments.\n\nMan, in immensity, is only an imperceptible point; and yet, by his\nsenses and intelligence, he seems in communication with the whole\nuniverse; but how pleasant and peaceable is this communication! It is\nalmost that of a prince with his subjects: all is animated round man,\nall relates to his desires and wants; the action of the elements, every\nthing on earth, like the rays of light, seems to be proportioned to his\nfaculties and strength; and whilst the celestial bodies move with a\nrapidity which terrifies our imagination, and whilst they hurry along in\ntheir course our dwelling, we are tranquil in the bosom of an asylum,\nand under the protecting shelter allotted us; we enjoy there in peace a\nmultitude of blessings, which, by another wonderful affinity, ally\nthemselves to our taste, and all the sentiments we are endowed with.\n\nIn short, and it is another favour, man is permitted to be, in some\nthings, the contriver of his own happiness, by his will and ingenuity;\nhe has embellished his habitation, and united several ornaments to the\nsimple beauties of nature; he has improved, by his care, the salutary\nplants; and even in those which seemed the most dangerous he has\ndiscovered some wholesome property, and carefully separated it from the\nenvenomed parts which surrounded it; he can soften metals, and make them\nserve to augment his strength; he obliges the marble to obey him, and\nassume what form he desires; he gives laws to the elements, or\ncircumscribes their empire; he stops the invasion of the sea; he\nrestrains the rivers in their natural bed, and sometimes obliges them to\ntake a different course, in order to spread their benign influence; he\nerects a shelter against the fury of the winds, and by an ingenious\ncontrivance, makes use of that impetuous force, which he could not at\nfirst dream of defending himself from; even the fire, whose terrible\naction seems to presage destruction, he subjugates, and renders it, if I\nmay so express myself, the confident of his industry, and the companion\nof his labours.\n\nWhat a source of reflections is this dominion of the mind over the most\ndreadful effects of the movement of blind matter. It seems as if the\nSupreme Being, in submitting thus to the intelligence of men the most\npowerful elements, chose to give us an anticipation of the empire which\nHis sovereign wisdom has over the universe.\n\nHowever, it is in the influence of our spiritual faculties on\nthemselves, that we observe, above all, their admirable nature; we see,\nwith astonishment, the perfections which they acquire by their own\naction. Intelligence, considered in a general manner, undoubtedly is a\ngreat ph\u0153nomenon; but it is a still greater wonder, to see the thoughts\nof a man reach, by the most ingenious means, the knowledge of others,\nand form an alliance between the past and present productions of the\nmind. It is by such an alliance that the sciences have been improved,\nand that the mind of man has been acquainted with all its strength. The\nmighty of the earth cannot break this association, nor subject to their\ntyrannic divisions the noble heritage of knowledge; this gift, so\nprecious, preserves the stamp of a divine hand;\u2014and no one has yet been\nable to say it is mine.\n\nThe most noble use that has ever been made of the admirable union of so\nmany talents, and so much knowledge, was to demonstrate how every thing\nin nature relates to the idea of a first cause; which forcibly announces\na design full of wisdom, and a beneficent intention; but now, unhappily,\nthese proofs of the existence of a God are not sufficient; imperious\nphilosophers have laboured to subvert every thing founded on the\nconnection and wonderful harmony of the system of nature; it is not\nsufficient to oppose to these new opinions the mere authority of final\ncauses; they do not contest that there is a perfect conformity between\nour desires and wants, between our senses and the bounties of nature;\nthey do not contest, from the cedar to the hyssop, from the insect to\nman, that there is a beauty of proportion in the whole, which is to be\nfound equally in the relation that objects have with each other, as well\nas in their different parts; but this admirable harmony, in which the\npious man, the man of feeling, perceives with delight the stamp of an\neternal intelligence; others less fortunate, undoubtedly, obstinately\npresent it to us as a fortuitous collision, as a play of atoms agitated\nby a blind movement, or as nature itself, existing thus from all\neternity. What trouble they take to invent and defend these systems\ndestructive of our happiness and hopes! I prefer my feelings to all this\nphilosophy; but, to avoid an encounter would be to favour their\npresumption, and give additional strength to their opinions.\n\nThus I shall treat the most important question that man can consider. I\nshall endeavour first to show, that the different conjectures on the\norigin of the world all centre in the single opinion of the eternal and\nnecessary existence of every thing which is; and I shall afterwards\ncompare the basis of that system with the reason of that happy and\nsimple belief which unites the idea of a Supreme Being with all we see\nand know; in short, to the universe, the most unlimitted of our\nconceptions.\n\n\n\n\n                              CHAP. XIII.\n                     _The same Subject continued._\n\n\nWhen we see the authors of the different systems, concerning the\nformation of the world, reject the idea of a God, under the pretext,\nthat this idea is foreign to the nature of our perceptions, should we\nnot have a right to expect some better substitute for it? But, far from\nanswering our expectations, they abandon themselves to all the\nwanderings of the most fantastic imagination. In fact, whether we refer\nthe origin of the universe to the effect of hazard, the fortuitous\nconcourse of atoms, or whether we establish another hypothesis derived\nfrom the same principle, it is necessary at least to suppose the eternal\nexistence of an innumerable multitude of little particles of matter,\nplaced without order in the immensity of space; and to suppose,\nafterwards, that these atoms, disseminated to infinity, attracted each\nother, and corresponded by the inherent properties of their nature; and\nthat there resulted, from their adhesion, not only organized, but\nintelligent faculties; it is necessary, in short, to suppose, that all\nthose incomprehensible atoms have been settled with admirable order\nthrough the effect of a blind motion, and by the result of some of the\npossible chances in the infinity of accidental combinations. Indeed,\nafter so many suppositions without example or foundation, that of an\nIntelligent Being, soul and director of the universe, had been more\nanalogous and more consonant with our knowledge.\n\nLet us return to the hypothesis we have just mentioned. We shall then\nrecognize the trifling habit of the mind; it is accustomed to proceed\nfrom simple to compound ideas, every time it meditates, invents, or\nexecutes: thus, by an inverse method, the composers of systems have\nthought, that, in order to connect the universe to its origin, it was\nsufficient to detach, by the exercise of thinking, all its parts, and to\nbreak and subdivide them afterwards to infinity; but whatever may be the\ntenuity of these atoms, their existence, having organized and\nintellectual properties, which we should be obliged to grant them, would\nbe a wonder almost equal to those ph\u0153nomena which surround us.\n\nWhen we see a plant grow, embellished with different colours, we only\nthink of the period when its vegetation may be perceived by our senses;\nbut the seed of this plant, or if you like better, the organized atoms,\nthe first principle of this seed, would have offered also a grand\nsubject of admiration, if we had been endowed with the faculties\nnecessary to penetrate into the occult secrets of nature. But perhaps,\nin transforming into an imperceptible powder all the parts of matter,\nwhich have been collected to compose the world, we have only before our\neyes a fugitive vapour, to which even our imagination cannot reach; and\nthose who unfortunately love and defend this admiration, find besides,\nin the system of divisible atoms, means to defer, according to their\nfancy, the moment of their astonishment.\n\nAll these fantastic combinations serve only to lead us astray in our\nresearches; and I do not think it a matter of indifference to make a\ngeneral observation. The study of the first elements, of all the\nsciences which we acquire, such as geometry, languages, civil\nlegislation, and several others, appear to us the simplest parts of our\ninstruction. It is not the same, when we seek to know the laws of the\nphysical world; for the works of nature never appear more simple than in\ntheir compounded state; they are then, to our mind, that which harmony\nis to the ear; it is the agreement of all parts which forms a union\nperfectly proportioned to our intelligence. Thus, man, for example, that\nwonderful alliance of so many different faculties, does not astonish our\nunderstanding, but appears to us in one point of view, a simple idea;\nbut we are troubled, and, as it were, dismayed, when we try to analyze\nhim, or mount to the elements of his liberty, will, thought, and all the\nother properties of his nature.\n\nWe only advance towards infinity, and consequently towards the most\nprofound darkness, when we destroy the world in order to divide it into\natoms, out of the midst of which we make it issue afresh, after having\nrallied all we have dispersed.\n\nLet us admit, for a moment, that there exists organized and intelligent\natoms, and that they are such, either by their nature, or by their\nadhesion to other atoms. We are now, of all these scattered atoms, to\ncompose the universe, that master-piece of harmony, and perfect\nassemblage of every beauty and variety, that inexhaustible source of\nevery sentiment of admiration; and in rejecting the idea of a God,\ncreator and preserver, we must have recourse to the power of chance,\nthat is to say, to the effects of an unknown continual motion, which,\nwithout any rule, produces, in a limited time, all the combinations\nimaginable; but, in order to effect an infinite variety of combinations,\nit is not only necessary to admit a continual motion, but besides, to\nsuppose this continual motion changes its direction in all the parts of\nspace subject to its influence. The existence of such a change, and a\nsimilar diversity in the laws of motion, is a new supposition which may\nbe ranked with the other wild ones.\n\nHowever, after these chimerical systems have been granted, we are not\nfreed from the difficulties which the notion of the formation of the\nworld by a fortuitous concourse of atoms produces.\n\nIt is difficult to comprehend how particles of matter, agitated in every\nmanner, and susceptible, as has been supposed, of an infinity of\ndifferent adhesions, should not have formed such a mixture, such a\ncontexture, as would have rendered, the harmonious composition of the\nuniverse in all its parts, impossible.\n\nWhen we represent to ourselves, abstractedly, the unlimmitted number of\nchances that may be attributed to a blind movement, the imagination,\nunable to conceive, is left to guess how an infinite number of atoms,\nendowed with a property of uniting themselves, under an infinite\ndiversity of movements, could compose the heavenly bodies; but, as long\nbefore that period, when such an accidental throw would become probable;\nthese same atoms might have formed an innumerable multitude of partial\ncombinations; if one of these combinations had been incompatible with\nthe harmony and composition of a world, that world could not have been\nformed.\n\nThe same considerations may be applied to animated beings: chance might\nhave produced men susceptible of life, and the transmission of it, long\nbefore chance gave them all the faculties which they enjoy; and if they\nhad been formed with only four senses, they could not have acquired a\nfifth; for the same reason that we do not see a new one spring up.\nBesides, the chance which might have produced living beings, must have\nalways preceded the chance which afforded those beings every thing\nnecessary for their subsistence and preservation.\n\nIt may indeed be supposed, that atoms assembled in a manner incompatible\nwith the disposition of the universe, have been separated by the\ncontinuation of the motion introduced into the immensity of space; but\nthis continual motion, sufficient to sever that which it has joined,\nwould it not have destroyed that harmony which has been the result of\none of the fortuitous chances to which the formation of the world has\nbeen attributed?\n\nWill some object, that all the parts of matter, once united in the\nmasses and proportions which constitute the heavenly bodies, have been\nmaintained by the impression of a predominant force at the same time\ninvariable? But how is it possible to reconcile the existence and\ndominion of such a force with that continual motion, which was requisite\nfor the composition of the universe?\n\nIt may be also demonstrated, that the formation of worlds, by the\nchances of a blind motion, and their regular continuity of existence,\nare two propositions which disagree. Let us explain this idea. The play\nof atoms, necessary in order to produce the unformed masses of the\nheavenly bodies, being infinitely less complicated than that which is\nnecessary to produce them, inhabited as they are with intelligent\nbeings, must have happened long before the other. Thus, in the system of\nthe composition of the universe, by the fortuitous concourse of atoms,\nit is necessary to suppose, that these atoms, after having been united\nto form the heavenly bodies, have been severed, and united again, as\nmany times as was necessary, to produce a planet inhabited by\nintelligent beings. Since beings thus endowed add nothing to the\nstability of the world, since they do not contribute to the grand\ncoalition of all its parts; why the same blind motion which has united,\ndissolved, and assembled so often every part of the earth, before it was\ncomposed, such as it is; why does it not produce some alteration now? It\nshould again reduce to powder our world, or at least, let us perceive\nthe commencement of some new form.\n\nIt is not only to a world inhabited by intelligent beings, that the\narguments, just mentioned, may be applicable; for we perceive around us\nan innumerable multitude of beauties and features of harmony, which were\nnot necessary to the preservation of our world, and which, according to\nevery rule of probability, would never have existed, unless we supposed,\nthat the earth has been formed, dissolved, and reproduced, an infinity\nof times, before having been composed such as we see it; but then I\nwould ask, why there are no vestiges of those alterations, and why that\nmotion has stopped?\n\nIt would be possible, however, by the assistance of a new supposition,\nto resolve the difficulty I have just mentioned; some may say, that the\nunion, and the successive dispersion of the universal atoms, are\nexecuted in a space of time, so slow and insensible, that our\nobservations, and all those which we have from tradition, cannot inform\nus whether there will not be a separation of all the parts of the\nuniverse, by the same causes which have occasioned their adhesion.\n\nIt is obvious, that transporting us into infinity and admitting such a\nseries of arbitrary suppositions, they are not indeed exposed to any\nrational attacks; but, making equally free with infinity, in order to\noppose nonsense to nonsense, why may I not be allowed to suppose, that\nin the infinite combinations arising from perpetual motion, men have\nbeen created, destroyed, and again called into being, with the same\nfaculties, remembrances, thoughts, relations, and circumstances; and why\neach of us separated from our former existence, only by a sleep, whose\nduration is imperceptible, should not be in our own eyes immortal\nbeings? Infinity permits the supposition of this absurd hypothesis, as\nit authorises every flight of the imagination in which time is reckoned\nfor nothing. We see, however, how we risk running into error, when with\nour limited faculties we wish to subject the incomprehensible idea of\ninfinity, and boldly adjust it to the combinations of finite beings.\n\nLet us produce, however, another objection. It may be said, that our\nplanet is the result of chance; but is not this chance improbable, if we\nsuppose that there existed in the infinity of space, an infinite number\nof other assembled atoms, equally produced by the first throw of the\ndice, which represent all the possible forms, and imaginable\nproportions? And I would also ask, by what laws, all these irregular\nbodies, necessarily subject, by reason of their number and masses, to an\ninfinity of movements, have not disconcerted the planetary system\nformed, at the same time as they were, by chance?\n\nI ought to observe, above all, that the order which we are acquainted\nwith, is a proof of universal order; for, in immensity, where one part\nis nothing compared with the whole, no part, without exception, could be\npreserved, unless it was in equilibrium with every other.\n\nThus, whether _an infinite succession of chances_ be supposed, to which\nthe entire mass of atoms has been uniformly subject, or whether the\nfirst general throw is thought sufficient, but divided _into an infinity\nof different sections_, our reason opposes invincible difficulties to\nthe result which some want to draw from these various systems.\n\nIn short, we must observe, that in order to understand the accidental\nformation of a world, such as we are at liberty to suppose, the eternal\nexistence of every kind of organized and intelligent atoms, must have\npreceded the formation of that world. I must again observe, that when\nthey are obliged to such wonderful first principles, and to admit, in\nthe beginning, a nature so astonishing, we can scarcely conceive how\nthey can make it act suddenly a foolish part, in order to finish the\nwork of the universe: a more exalted supposition, would have prevented\ntheir drawing a conclusion, so absurd.\n\nIt seems to me, that notwithstanding the immensity which has given rise\nto so many ridiculous notions about the formation of the world, they\nhave such a resemblance to each other, that we can scarcely discern any\ndifference; and considering the little circle which the imagination runs\nover, when it applies its force to deep conceptions, we think we\ndiscover something supernatural in its singular weakness: the authors of\nthese systems seem to have a slavish turn of thinking, and the marks of\ntheir chains are very visible; it is always atoms, and atoms that they\nmake play together, either at different times, or all at once, in\ninfinite space; but when some want to form ideas of liberty and will, as\nthey do not know in what manner to analyze these properties, they\nsuppose them pre-existing in the elementary parts, which they made use\nof to create their universe; and they prudently take care not to grant\nany action to liberty and will, in order to prevent any resistance to\nthose notions on which they build their universe.\n\nThey would not render either more simple or credible, the blind\nproduction of worlds, by supposing not only innumerable multitude of\norganized atoms, but, even an infinite diversity of molds to hold the\natoms, and of which force chemical analogy gives us an idea. Such a\nsystem, which might serve to explain a few secondary causes of our known\nnature, is not applicable to the first formation of beings; for with\nsuch an assemblage of molds and atoms, all the great difficulties would\nstill subsist. In fact, how should the different molds have classed\nthemselves properly, in order to form the most simple whole, but which\nbeside required a fixed measure and gradation of ranks? The mold\ndestined for the organized atoms, of which the crystalline is to be\ncomposed, how is it possible it should have placed itself in the centre\nof that mold which is to form the pupil of the eye, and this last on\nthat one which is to form the whole, and so on, by an exact gradation,\nwhose divisions and subdivisions are innumerable?\n\nWere they to suppose an infinite succession of molds, of which the\nlargest attracted the smallest, in the same manner as the molds\nattracted the atoms; this supposition, less ridiculous than any other,\nis not sufficient to model, even in imagination, the most unimportant\nph\u0153nomena of nature; it is necessary, besides, that by the direction of\na wise and powerful force, the molds, and the atoms which belong to\nthem, set themselves in motion, without confusion; it is necessary that\nthose destined to compose the exterior fibres should not obstruct the\npassage of those molds calculated to form the interior organs; in short,\nthat every one of those in its course and expansion, should artfully\nobserve those delicate shades which blend or separate all the parts of\nthe simplest of nature\u2019s works.\n\nWe are already acquainted with a force which acts in all directions,\nwhich disposes every thing in due order, tends towards an end, stops,\nbegins again, and finishes, every moment, a complicated work; and this\nis the intelligent will, and certainly we have reason to be astonished,\nthat the only faculty we have an intimate consciousness of, is the one\nphilosopher\u2019s turn from, when they investigate the admirable order of\nthe universe.\n\nI allow, that they may, at the same time they reject the idea of a God,\nadmit, as a principle, the eternal existence of a mechanical force,\nwhich, by an incomprehensible necessity, directed, towards a wise end,\nevery thing that was at first confusedly scattered in the immensity of\nspace; but this new supposition would form an hypothesis similar to the\nsystem of the eternal existence of the universe; in fact, the eternal\nexistence of all the elements, of all substances, forces, and properties\nwhich were necessary to produce a certain order of things, would be a\nph\u0153nomenon as incomprehensible as the existence of that order itself.\n\nWe must add, that these two ph\u0153nomena would be separated in our thoughts\nonly by an indivisible instant, an instant that we can neither describe\nnor imagine in the extent of the time represented by eternity; for any\nchosen period would be still too late by an infinity of ages. The\nnecessary effect of an eternal cause has not, like that cause, any\nperiod to which we can fix its commencement.\n\nWe thus perceive, under another point of view, how vain and ridiculous\nare the fantastic operations, they imagine, before the existence of the\nworld, and which are attributed sometimes to the disordered movements of\nchance, and sometimes to the regular laws of blind necessity.\n\nThere is then but one hypothesis to be opposed to the idea of a God: it\nis the system of the eternal existence of the universe. Such an\natheistical system will always be more easily defended than any other,\nbecause that being founded on a supposition without bounds, it does not\nrequire to be embraced by reasoning, like all the hypothetical ideas, by\nwhich men make nature act according to an order of their own invention.\nWe will, in the next chapter, consider this system, and discuss it by\nevery means in our power.\n\n\n\n\n                               CHAP. XIV.\n                     _The same Subject continued._\n\n\nThose who maintain that the world subsists of itself, and that there is\nnot a God, say, in favour of their opinion, that if the eternal\nexistence of the universe overwhelms our understanding, the eternal\nexistence of a God is a still more inconceivable idea; and that such a\nsupposition is only another difficulty, since, according to a common\nmode of judging, a work the most wonderful appears a ph\u0153nomenon less\nastonishing than the knowledge of which it is the result.\n\nLet us first fix our attention on this argument. It is useless to ask,\nwhat is meant by another difficulty in infinity; those ideas which are\nrepresented by familiar expressions, necessarily derived from\ncomparison, are only admissable in the narrow circle of our knowledge;\nout of it, those ideas have not any application, and we cannot fix any\ndegrees in the immensity which exceeds the bounds of our views, and in\nthose unfathomable depths which are out of the reach of our intellectual\npowers.\n\nUndoubtedly, our mind is equally lost, both in trying to form a distinct\nidea of a God, and in endeavouring to describe the eternal existence of\nthe world, without any cause out of itself: however, when we try to\nglance our thoughts towards the first traces of time; when we try to\nrise almost to the beginning of beginnings, we feel distinctly that, far\nfrom considering the eternal existence of an intelligent cause as\nincreasing the difficulty, we only find repose in that opinion; and\ninstead of forcing our mind to adopt such an opinion, and thinking we\nwander in an imaginary space, we find it, on the contrary, more\ncongenial with our nature; whilst order unites itself to the idea of a\ndesign, and a multiplicity of combinations to the idea of an\nintelligence. Thus we rise from little to great things, and reasoning by\nanalogy, we shall more easily conceive the existence of a Being endowed\nwith various unlimitted properties, which we in part partake; we shall,\nI say, more easily conceive such an existence, than that of a universe,\nwhere all would be intelligent, except the first mover. The workman,\nundoubtedly, is superior to the work: but according to our manner of\nfeeling and judging, an intelligent combination, formed without\nintelligence, will always be the most extraordinary, as well as the most\nincomprehensible ph\u0153nomenon.\n\nIt is not indifferent to observe, that according to the system I combat,\nthe more the world would appear to us the admirable result of wisdom,\nthe less power should we have to draw any deduction favourable to the\nexistence of a God, since the author of a perfect work is not so easily\ntraced as the feeble re-iterated labours of mediocrity. Thus, all those\nwho particularized the beauties of nature, would stupidly injure the\ncause of religion, and weaken our belief in the existence of a Supreme\nBeing. It seems to me, that it is easy to perceive what an ill-founded\nargument that must be which leads us to a conclusion so absurd.\n\nThe attentive view of the universe should make us mistrust the judgment,\nwhich we form, of that which is the most simple in the order of things;\nfor all the general operations of nature arise from a movement more\nnoble and complicated than we can easily form an idea of. We should\nsurely find, contrary to a perfect simplicity of means, that a circuit\nof two hundred millions of leagues, which our globe makes every year, is\nnecessary, in order to produce the successive changes of seasons, and to\nassure the reproduction of the necessary fruits; we should find, that\nthe distance of thirty-four millions of leagues, between the sun and the\nearth, was necessary to proportion the rays of light to the delicacy of\nour organs. However, if even in the narrow circle we traverse, we do not\ndiscover any constant application of that simple order, of which we form\nan idea, how could such a principle serve to guide our opinions, at the\nmoment when we elevate our meditations to the first link of the vast\nchain of beings; when we undertake to examine, whether, throughout the\nimmensity of the universe, there exists, or not, an intelligent cause?\nWhat would become, in that immensity, of the insignificant phrase, _it\nis one difficulty more_? The buzzing fly would be less ridiculous, if\ncapable of perceiving the order and magnificence of a palace, it\nasserted, that the architect never existed.\n\nEvery thing indicates, that, according to our different degrees of sense\nand knowledge, what is simple, and what is easy, have a very different\napplication; we may continually observe, that these expressions are not\ninterpreted in the same manner, by a man of moderate abilities and a man\nof genius; however, the distance which separates the various degrees of\nintelligence with which we are acquainted, is probably very trifling in\nthe universal scale of beings. All our reflections would lead us then to\npresume, that beyond the limits of the human mind, the simple is\ncompounded, the easy our wonderful, and the evident our inconceivable.\n\nAfter having examined the principal arguments of the partisans of\nathiestical systems, which we now attack; let us change the scene, and\nin the midst of the labyrinth, in which we are placed, try to find a\nclue for our meditations.\n\nWe are witnesses of the existence of the world, and intimately\nacquainted with our own; thus, either God or matter must have been\neternal; and by a natural consequence, an eternal existence, which is an\nidea the most incomprehensible, is, however, the most incontestible\ntruth. Obliged now, in order, to fix our opinion, to chuse between two\neternal existences, the one intelligent and free, the other blind, and\nvoid of all consciousness, why not prefer the first? An eternal\nexistence is an idea so astonishing, so much above our comprehension,\nthat we decorate it with every thing sublime and beautiful, and nothing\ndeserves more those decorations than thought.\n\nWould it not be strange, that in our sysmatic divisions, it was only to\nthought, and consequently to all that was most admirable in our nature,\nthat we refuse eternity, whilst we grant it to matter and its blind\ncombinations? What a subversion of all proportion! that we should\nbelieve in the eternal existence of matter, because it is present to our\neyes, and yet not admit the eternal existence of an intelligence; whilst\nthat which we are endowed with becomes the source of our judgment, and\neven the guide of our senses!\n\nAnd by what other singularity we should grant the faculty and the\nconsciousness of intelligence, only to that small part of the world\nwhich is represented by animated beings? Thus, the whole of nature would\nbe below a part; and if no spirit animated the universe, man would\nappear to have reached his ultimate perfection; though we see in him but\na faint sketch, a weak shadow of something more complete and admirable;\nwe perceive that he is, to speak thus, at the commencement of thinking;\nand all his cares, all his efforts, to extend the empire of that\nfaculty, only inform him, that he tends continually towards an end, from\nwhich he is always distant; in short, in his greatest exertions he feels\nhis weakness; he studies, but he cannot know himself; he makes a few\npetty discoveries, sees some trifling wheels, whilst the main spring\nescapes his search: he is fallen into the world, like a grain of sand\nthrown by the winds; he has neither a consciousness of his origin, nor a\nforesight of his end; we perceive in him all the timidity and mistrust\nof a dependent being; he is constrained, by instinct, to raise to heaven\nhis wishes and contemplations; and, when he is not led astray by an\nintoxicating reason, he fears, seeks to adore a god, and rejects with\ndisdain the rank which audacious philosophers assign him in the order of\nnature.\n\nI must also add, that the sentiment of admiration, which I cannot\nstifle, when I turn my attention on the spiritual qualities we are\nendowed with, would be insensibly weakened, if I was reduced to consider\nman himself as a simple growth of blind matter; for the most astonishing\nproduction would only inspire me with a transitory emotion, unless I can\nrefer it to an intelligent cause: I must discover a design, a\ncombination, before I admire; as I have need to perceive feeling and\naffection, before I love.\n\nBut as soon as I see in the human mind the stamp of Omnipotence; and it\nappears to me one of the results of a grand thought; it reasumes its\ndignity, and all the faculties of my soul are prostrate before such a\nwonderful conception.\n\nIt is then united with the idea of a God, that the spiritual faculties\nof man attract my homage and captivate my imagination; in reflecting on\nthese sublime faculties, studying their admirable essence, I am\nconfirmed in the opinion that there exists a sovereign intelligence,\nsoul of nature, and that nature itself is subject to its laws: yes, we\nfind in the mind of man the first evidence, a faint shadow of the\nperfection which we must attribute to the Creator of the Universe. What\na wonder indeed is our thinking faculty, capable of so many things yet\nignorant of its own nature! I am equally astonished, by the extent and\nlimits of thinking; an immense space is open to its researches, and at\nthe same time it cannot comprehend the secrets which appear most\nproximate with it; as the grand motive of action, the principle of\nintellectual force, ever remains concealed. Man is then informed, every\ninstant, of his grandeur and dependence; and these thoughts must\nnaturally lead to the idea of Omnipotence. There are, in those limits of\nour knowledge and ignorance, in that confused and conditional light, all\nthe evidence of design; and it seems to me, sometimes, that I hear this\ncommand given to the human soul by the God of the universe: go to admire\na portion of my universe, to search for happiness and to learn to love\nme; but do not try to raise the veil, with which I have covered the\nsecret of thy existence; I have composed thy nature of some of the\nattributes which constitute my own essence, thou wouldst be too near me,\nif I should permit thee to penetrate the mysteries of it; wait for the\nmoment destined by my wisdom; till then, thou canst only reach me by\nreverence and gratitude.\n\nNot only the wonderful faculty of thinking connects us with the\nuniversal intelligence; but all those inconceivable properties, known by\nthe name of liberty, judgment, will, memory, and foresight; it is, in\nshort, the august and sublime assemblage of all our intellectual\nfaculties. Are we, in fact, after the contemplation of such a grand\nph\u0153nomenon, far from conceiving a God? No, undoubtedly, we have within\nus a feeble image of that infinite power we seek to discover; man is\nhimself a universe, governed by a sovereign; and we are much nearer the\nSupreme Intelligence, by our nature, than by any notion of the primitive\nproperties of matter; properties, from which some wish to make the\nsystem of the world and its admirable harmony flow.\n\nIt seems to me, that our thinking faculty is too slightly treated in the\ngreater number of philosophic systems; and some have been so afraid of\nhonouring it, that they will not admit it to be a simple and particular\nprinciple, when the subject of the question is the immortality of the\nsoul; nor will they consider it as a universal principle, when they\ndiscuss the opinion of the existence of a God.\n\nIt is equally singular, that they wish to compose of matter a soul\nendowed with the most sublime qualities; and they pretend, at the same\ntime, that the world, in which we see intelligent beings, had not for a\ncontriver and principal any being of the same nature: this supposition,\nhowever, would be as reasonable as the other is weak; but it seems to\nme, that they like better to attribute order to confusion, than to order\nitself.\n\nWe seek to penetrate the secret of the existence of the universe; and\nwhen we reflect on the causes of that vast and magnificent disposition,\nwe can only attribute it to what seems the most marvellous and analogous\nto such a composition, thought, intention, and will. Why then should we\nretrench from the formation of the world all those sublime properties?\nAre we to act sparingly in an hypothesis in which all the wonders of\nnature are concentred? It is by the spiritual faculties with which man\nis endowed, that he remains master of the earth, that he has subdued the\nferocious animals, conquered the elements, and found a shelter from\ntheir impetuosity: it is by these faculties that man has constructed\nsociety, given laws to his own passions, and that he has improved all\nhis means of happiness; in short, nothing has ever been done, but by the\naid of his mind; and in his speculations on the formation of the world,\nand on the admirable relations of all the parts of the universe, that\nwhich he wishes not to admit, and will dare to reject is the intelligent\npowers and action of thinking. It seems like men disputing about the\nmeans which has been made use of to erect a pyramid, who name all the\ninstruments, except those that they found at the foot of the edifice.\n\nHabit only turns our attention from the union of wonders which compose\nthe soul; and it is thus, unfortunately, that admiration, lively light\nof the mind and feelings, does not afford us any more instruction. We\nshould be very differently affected, if, for the first time, we\ncontemplated the meanest part of this admirable whole! But even then, in\na little time, the strong conviction of the existence of a God would be\nworn away, and become what it is at present. But, let me be permitted,\nin order to render this truth more striking, to have recourse, for a\nmoment, to fiction. Let us imagine men, as immoveable as plants, but\nendowed with some one of our senses, enjoying the faculty of reflection,\nand enabled to communicate their thoughts. I hear these animated trees\ndiscourse about the origin of the world, and the first cause of all\nthings; they advance, like us, different hypothesis on the fortuitous\nmovement of atoms, the laws of fate and blind necessity; and among the\ndifferent arguments, employed by some, to contest the existence of a\nGod, creator of the universe, that which makes the greatest impression\nis, that it is impossible to conceive how an idea should become a\nreality; of how the design of disposing the parts should influence the\nexecution, since the will being a simple wish, a thought without force\nhas not any means to metamorphose itself into action: but in vain would\nthese immoveable spectators of the universe wish to change their\nsituation, to raise a shelter against the impetuosity of the winds, or\nthe scorching heat of the sun; yet then it would be evidently absurd to\nimagine the existence of a faculty essentially contrary to the immutable\nnature of things. Let however, in the midst of this conversation, a\nsupernatural power appear, and say to them, what would you think then,\nif this wonder, whose existence you regard as impossible, should be\nexecuted before your eyes; and if the faculty of acting, according to\nyour own will, was to be suddenly given you? Seized with astonishment,\nthey would prostrate themselves with fear and respect; and from that\ninstant, without the slightest doubt, would believe they had discovered\nthe secret of the system of the world; and they would adore the infinite\npower of intelligence, and it is to a like cause we should attribute the\ndisposition of the universe. However, the same ph\u0153nomenon which would\nappear above belief, and out of the limits of possibility, to those who\nhave never been a witness of it, that wonder exists in our world; we see\nit, we experience it every instant; though the force of habit weakens\nthe impression and eradicates our admiration.\n\nThe hypothesis I have just mentioned, might even be applied to the\nsudden acquisition of all the means proper to communicate ideas; and to\nthe prompt discoveries of the other properties of our mind; but several\nof these properties constitute, in such an essential manner, the essence\nof the soul, that we cannot, even in imagination, separate them, any\nmore than we can detach action from will, and will from thought. There\nare some spiritual faculties, and those the most wonderful, which we\ncannot define, and which we should not have even supposed to exist had\nwe not possessed them; and if it had been possible to have known them\nbefore we were endowed with them, the inventors of systems would have\npointed out this astonishing means, as the only one applicable to the\ncomposition of the admirable harmony of the universe.\n\nWe shall be led to the same reflections, when ceasing to expatiate on\nthe greatest wonders of our nature, we bound ourselves to consider the\nhuman mind at the moment when its action may be perceived. To render\nthis observation clearer, let us follow a man of genius in the course of\nhis labours, and we shall see him at once embrace a multitude of ideas,\ncompare them, notwithstanding their distance, and form from such a\nmixture a distinct result proper to direct his public or private\nconduct; let us consider him extending and multiplying these first\ncombinations, and connecting them, by an invisible web, to some\nscattered points which his imagination has fixed in the vast regions of\nfuturity; with the assistance of these magic succours we see him\napproaching the time which does not yet exist; but we see him, in his\ncareer, aided by accumulated knowledge, more subtle than the rays of the\nsun and yet separated, with an admirable order; more fleet and dispersed\nthan the light vapours of the morning, and still subject to the will of\nthat inconceivable power, which, under the name of memory, heaps up the\nacquisitions of the mind, in order to assist it afterwards in its new\nacquirements: but let us examine still further this man of genius, when\nhe deposits, by means of writing, his different reflections; and let us\nask, how he knows quickly, that an idea is new, and that a style has an\noriginal turn? Let us again enquire, how, in order to form such a\njudgment, he makes with celerity a recapitulation of the thoughts and\nimages employed by others, to illustrate the subjects they have treated,\nwhilst years and ages were rolling away; in short, let every one,\naccording to his strength, try to penetrate into these mysterious\nbeauties of the human understanding; and let him enquire afterwards\nabout the impression which he receives from a like meditation. There is,\nperhaps, as great a difference, if I may be allowed to say so, between\nthe most perfect vegetable and the human mind, as between it and the\nDeity: to extend this idea, we have only to suppose, that in the\nimmensity which surrounds us, there exists a gradation equal to that we\nhave perceived in the little space we are permitted to inspect.\n\nThe author of a celebrated work accuses men of presumption, because,\nwhen they endeavour to trace the first principle of things, by comparing\ntheir own faculties with it, they seem to think that they approach it.\nBut, what other part should we be able to take, when we are called to\nreason and to judge? It is not sufficient that the idea of the Supreme\nBeing may be metaphysical; it is necessary further, some will argue,\nthat we even try to render it abstract, by removing it out of our\nimagination, and that we seek for, in our judgment and opinions, a\nsupport which may be in a manner absent from ourselves, and absolutely\nforeign to our nature. All this cannot be understood: we confess that we\nhave not sufficient strength to know the essence and perfection of God,\nbut giving way to abstraction, we extinguish our natural light, and\ndeprive ourselves of the few means we have to obtain this knowledge; we\ncan only be acquainted with unknown things by the help of those we know:\nwe shall be led astray, if we are obliged to take another road; and\nmodern philosophers often seek to attack intimate sentiments by\narbitrary ideas, of which an imagination the most capricious is the only\nfoundation.\n\nIt will then always be surprizing, that in our contemplations and habits\nof thinking, the wisdom of the design, the harmony of the whole, and the\nperfection of parts, are manifest traces of intelligence; and yet that\nwe should renounce, suddenly, this manner of feeling and judging, in\norder to attribute the formation of the universe to the effect of\nchance, or the eternal laws of blind necessity; and is it possible, that\nwe can deduce the same consequences from an admirable order, as from\nwild confusion? Facts so different, principles so contrary, should not\nlead to the same conclusion; the magnificent system of the universe\nought to have some weight, when we conjecture about its origin; and it\nwould be difficult to persuade us, that in investigating the most\nexalted truths, we ought to consider all the knowledge we acquire by the\nview of nature as merely indifferent. Men are carried very far, when\nthey reject the arguments drawn from final causes; it is not only a\nsingle thought they would destroy, it is the source of all our knowledge\nthey would dry up.\n\nMen insensibly cease to perceive a connexion between the existence of a\nGod, and the different miracles with which we are surrounded; but all\nwould be changed, if God exhibited the numerous acts of his power\nsuccessively, instead of displaying them all at once; our imagination,\nanimated by such a movement, would rise to the idea of a Supreme Being;\nit is then, because an accumulation of wonders aggrandizes the universe;\nit is because a harmony, not to be equalled, seems to convert an\ninfinity of parts into an admirable whole; and that profound wisdom\nmaintains it in an immutable equilibrium; it is, in short, because\ninsensible gradations and delicate shades render still more perfect the\nwonders of nature, that men are less struck with astonishment, or lost\nin adoration.\n\nWe want, say you, new ph\u0153nomena to determine our persuasion: do you\nforget, that all which is offered to our view already surpasses our\nunderstanding? If the least miracle was to be effected before you, you\nwould be ready to bend your proud reason; but because the most grand and\nwonderful, which the imagination itself can form an idea of, has\npreceded your existence, you receive no impression from it, all appears\nsimple to you, all necessary. But, the reality of the wonders of the\nuniverse has nothing to do with the instant you are allowed to\ncontemplate them: your pilgrimage on earth, is it not a period\nimperceptible in the midst of eternity? admiration, surprise, and all\nthe affections of which man is susceptible, do not change the nature of\nthe ph\u0153nomena which surround him; and his intelligence reflects but a\nvery small part of the wonders of the universe.\n\nWe have no need of a revolution in the order of nature, to discover the\npower of its author; the fibres of a blade of grass confound our\nintelligence, and when we have grown old in study and observation, we\ncontinually discover new objects, which we have not investigated, and\nperceive new relations; we are ever in the midst of unknown things and\nincomprehensible secrets.\n\nHowever, supposing, for a moment, the existence of extraordinary\nmiracles which we should be impressed with; it is easy to conceive, that\nthese miracles would not have on men the influence we presume; for if\nthey were frequent, and if they happened only at regular periods, their\nfirst impression, would slowly be weakened, and, at last, men would\nrange them in the class of the successive movements of eternal matter.\nBut if, on the contrary, there was a long interval between these\nmiracles, the generations who succeeded the actual witnesses of them\nwould accuse their ancestors of credulity, or contest the truth of those\ntraditions, which transmitted the account of a revolution contrary to\nthe common course of nature.\n\nSome may still say, that, in order to render manifest the existence of\nthe Supreme Being, it would be necessary that men were punctually\nanswered, when they address their prayers; but the influence of our\nwishes upon events, if this influence was habitual and general, would it\nbe sufficient to change the opinion of those who see, with indifference,\nthat innumerable multitude of actions which are so miraculously subject\nto our will? Would they not still find some reason for considering such\nan increase of power, as the necessary result of the eternal system of\nthe universe? Thus, whatever might be the measure of intelligence, added\nto that we now enjoy, in short, though a number of new wonders were\naccumulated, men could still oppose to that union of miracles the same\nobjections, and the same doubts they do not now fear to raise against\nthe wonders we are daily witnesses of. It is difficult, it is\nimpossible, to make a constant or profound impression on men who are\nonly susceptible of astonishment in the short transition from the known\nto the unknown; they have but a moment to feel this emotion, and it is\nfrom the slowness of their comprehension, or the continual succession of\nthe ph\u0153nomena submitted to their inspection, that the duration of their\nadmiration depends. And, perhaps, our faculties and powers would excite\nmore surprise, if, in order to subject our movements to our will, it\nwere necessary to give our orders, and to pronounce them with a loud\nvoice, as a captain does to his soldiers; however, such a constitution\nwould be a degree less wonderful than that we possess.\n\nI will anticipate another objection; we advance gradually, some will\nsay, in discovering the secrets of nature; the power of attraction, that\ngrand physical faculty, has only been known about a century, and\nobservations on the effects of electricity are still more recent; every\nage, every year, adds to the treasure of our knowledge, and the time\nwill arrive, perhaps, when, without having recourse to any mysterious\nopinions, we shall have explained all the ph\u0153nomena which still astonish\nus.\n\nIt is not at first conceivable, how our past discoveries, and all those\nwhich may in future enrich the human mind, would ever free us from the\nnecessity of placing a first cause at the termination of our\nreflections; for, the more we perceive of new links in the vast\ndisposition of the universe, the more we extend the magnificence of the\nwork, and the power of the Creator. A series of successful exertions may\nreveal, perhaps, the secret of some physical properties, superior in\nforce to those we have experienced: but, even then, all the movements of\nnature would be subordinate to a few general laws; and when we should\ndistinguish these laws, the result of our researches would demonstrate\nsimply the existence of a greater unity in the system of the world; and\nthis character of perfection would be impressed, if it was possible,\nstill more on us; for, in a work, such as the universe, it is the simple\nand regular relations which announce, above all, the wisdom and power of\nthe Disposer; because our admiration could never be excited by an\nassemblage of incoherent ideas, whose chain would every instant be\nbroken. But, I know not by what habit or blindness it is, that when men\nhave discovered a principle uniform in its action, and have given to\nthat principle a denomination, they believe that their astonishment\nought to cease: in fact, attraction and electricity are not so much now\nsubjects of surprise, as a means to free us from the admiration due to\nthe magnificent result of those singular properties; in short, we are\nhabituated to consider, with indifference, every general effect, of\nwhich we acquire a conception, as if even this conception was not one of\nthe most noble of the ph\u0153nomena of nature. Some will say, that men, by\ndegrees, becoming familiarized with their own minds, despise all they\ncan easily understand; their competitions are then the only origin of\ntheir vanity; for when they examine themselves individually, or when\nthey judge of men in general, they have such a mean opinion of\nthemselves, that they do not highly value their discoveries.\n\nWe ought to place, amongst the number of ideas the most extensive and\ngeneral, that of Buffon on the formation of the earth; but this idea,\nsupposing it as just as it is beautiful, only explains to us one of the\ngradations of this superb work. I see the earth formed by an emanation\nof the sun; I see it animated and become fertile, when it has received,\nby slow degree, its temperature; and I see, beside, issue out of its lap\nall the beauties of nature; and that which surprises me still more, all\nthe beings endowed with instinct or intelligence; but if the elements of\nthese incomprehensible productions had been prepared or simply disposed\nin the fiery body which animates our system, I transfer to it my\nastonishment, and equally have to seek for the author of so many\nwonders.\n\nI must now fix my attention, for a few moments, on the most metaphysical\npart of this work. We can, perhaps, form an idea of a world existing\nwithout a beginning, and by the laws of blind necessity, provided that\nworld was immoveable and invariable in all its parts; but how apply the\nidea of eternity to a continual succession; as such a nature is\nnecessarily composed of a beginning and end, we cannot otherwise define\nthe idea of succession; thus, we are constrained to elevate ourselves to\na first Being existing by himself, when we have before our eyes a\nconstant revolution of causes and effects, of destruction and life. It\nis impossible to have any idea of motion without that of a beginning.\n\nThe difficulty would not be removed, by saying, that the whole of the\nuniverse is immutable, and the parts only subject to change; for a whole\nof this kind, without any relation whatever, either real or imaginary, a\nlike whole has only an ideal circumscription, which, in fact, is not\nsusceptible of an alteration; but such a circumscription only presents\nus an assemblage of positive things contained in its circle; and it is\nnot in studying those, nor in examining the different parts of the\nunknown whole, which we call the universe, that we are allowed to draw\nconsequences, or to form a judgment. Thus, seeing only a succession, we\nrationally feel the necessity of a first cause.\n\nBut, some will say, you are entangled in the same difficulty, when you\nsuppose the eternity of a God; for a series of designs in an intelligent\nbeing should lead to the idea of a commencement, as well as the\nsuccessions of the physical world.\n\nThis proposition, undoubtedly, is not easily cleared up, like all those\nwhose solution appears to be united to the knowledge of infinity. We\ncannot, however, hinder ourselves from perceiving, that the physical\ngenerations lead us, in a manner simple and manifest, to the necessity\nof a first principle; and we ought to search for this principle out of\nourselves, since our nature does not furnish any idea of it; whereas,\nthe successive combinations of the mind may relate to an origin, of\nwhich we have not any conception, and which seems united, in some\nmanner, to these same combinations. In fact, we can easily form a\ndistinct idea of a faculty of thought, antecedent to the action of\nthinking, and which might even be separated by such intervals as the\nimagination could conceive. It is the same with liberty, that\nintellectual power of which we have the consciousness, at the same time\nthat it remains absolutely idle.\n\nI shall add, that, even in the narrow circle of our thoughts, it is\ntrue, the operations of the mind appear to us often dependant on each\nother; yet, sometimes their chain is so broken, that our ideas seem\nreally to issue out of nothing; instead of which, in every other\nproduction, we know, there is always a visible tie between that which\nis, and that which was. We must not forget, that at the very time our\nideas appear to us connected, that succession is to be attributed to our\nweakness and ignorance, rather than to the mind, considered in a general\nmanner. Circumscribed in all our means, we are obliged to go continually\nfrom the known to the unknown, from probability to certainty, from\nexperience of the past, to conjectures about the future; but this\ngradation, this course, ought to be absolutely foreign to an\nintelligence without bounds, which knows and which sees all at the same\ntime; and perhaps we are in the way of this truth, when we perceive,\namongst us, the claim of true genius, and the turbulent whirlpool of\nfolly.\n\nIn short, it is not men persuaded of the existence of a God, that we\nneed require to transport themselves beyond, if I may say so, the domain\nof thought, in order to search for proofs of their opinion; atheists\nalone want such an effort, since they alone resist the influence of the\nsimplest sentiments and most natural arguments; since they alone bid us\nmistrust that distinct connexion which we perceive between the Supreme\nIntelligence and the perfection of order; that train of causes and\neffects, between the idea of a God and all the propensities of the soul;\nit is these considerations, intelligible to all, which give new force to\nour opinions.\n\nDirected by these reflections, and wishing to investigate in a useful\nmanner the subject I have undertaken, I shall not engage in the\narguments which turn on the creation of the world. It is sufficient for\nme to have perceived, that the idea of the creation of the universe is\nnot more inconceivable than the idea of its eternity; I am not indeed\nobliged, with those who adopt the last system, to suppose something\ngrowing out of nothing; but substituting the idea of an eternal\nexistence, instead of that of nothing, is a thought which equally\nterrifies my imagination; for my mind knows not where to place that\neternity and in order to comprehend it still surrounds it with a vacuum.\nIn the system of a created universe, I see something coming out of\nnothing, by the will of a Being whom I can form an idea of; but in the\nsystem of the eternity of matter, my faculties are absorbed in\nendeavouring to embrace it; in short, both of these modes of existence\nappear to me in the midst of a vague infinity, which no human power can\nconceive; and if sometimes the eternal existence of the universe seems\nless incomprehensible than its creation, it is only because such an idea\neludes examination and precludes reasoning.\n\nThe idea of a Creator is undoubtedly equally above our comprehension,\nbut we are led to it by all our feelings and thoughts; and if we are\nstopped in the efforts which we make to reach the cause we seek, it is\nby obstacles which we can even attribute to the will of that power we\nare searching to discover; instead of that, contemplating the uniform\nand insipid rotation of an eternal existence, we are almost driven to\ndespair, that is to say, we feel the impossibility of conceiving the\nnature of things, and the certainty, nevertheless, that there exists not\nany veil designedly placed between that nature and our understandings.\n\nI must still make some further observations; we see a resemblance of\ncreation in the continual reproduction of all the bounties of the earth;\nand our moral system offers a still more striking one, in the formation\nof ideas which did not exist antecedently. Our feelings appear another\nproof of the same truth; for they have not any evident connexion with\nthe cause that we assign them: thus, without habit we might see as great\na difference between certain exterior emotions and the various\naffections of our souls, as we can conceive between the existence of the\nworld and the idea of a Creator.\n\nWe perceive also, that the universe has all the characters of a\nproduction; characters which consist in the union of a multitude of\nparts, whose relations are fixed by a single thought. In short, even the\nsuccession of time announces intelligence; for we know not how to place\nthat succession in the midst of an eternal existence. We cannot conceive\nany different periods in an extent in which there is not a beginning;\nfor before we arrive at any of these periods, there must have been\nalways an infinite space; besides, there being no beginning, considered\nabstractedly, annihilates the idea of intervals, since they could not\nhave two fixed points: thus, the introduction of the past, the present,\nand the future, into the midst of eternity, seems due to an intelligent\npower, who has modelled this immense uniformity, and governs the nature\nof things.\n\nI ought not to dwell long on these reflections; to give a basis to\nreligious opinions, it is not necessary to conceive of creation in its\nmetaphysical essence; it is sufficient, to believe the existence of a\nSupreme Being, creator and preserver of nature, the model of wisdom and\ngoodness, the protector of rational beings, whose providence governs the\nworld. We lose all our strength when extending too far our meditations,\nwe aspire to know and explain the secrets of infinity; we then only\nexhibit to the adversaries of religion the faint stretch of our\nopinions, and the last struggles of a reason weakened by its own\nefforts; it is much better to use those arguments which sense and\nfeeling are able to defend. We should candidly confess, that our noblest\nfaculties have immutable limits; one degree more would perhaps diffuse a\nsudden light on the questions, whose examination disconcerts us. There\nis not perhaps any mind accustomed to meditation, which has not had\nseveral times pre-sentiments of this truth; for the first glimmering of\na new perception seems to out-run thinking, and such is its proximity\nthat we imagine one step more would enable us to catch it; but our hope\nis dissipated, we cannot grasp the fleeting shadow, and fall back again\ninto the sad conviction of our impotence. Alas! in that infinite space\nwhich our intellectual powers try to run over, there are only immense\ndeserts, where the mind cannot find repose, or the thoughts meet any\nasylum; these are the regions whose entrance seems to have been\ndesolated, in order that the most unbounded imagination might not obtain\nany knowledge of them; but will you dare to say, that there stops all\nintelligence, there finishes the mysteries of nature? would you expect\nto possess the secrets of time in attributing an eternal existence to\nall we know? Certainly, we are too insignificant to promulge such\ndecrees, we enjoy too small a portion of eternity to determine what\nbelongs to it.\n\nThe most probable thought is, that our reason is insufficient to reach\nthe explanations we wish to unfold; the chain of beings above us every\ninstant reminds us of this truth; and it appears singular, that\nperceiving so distinctly the bounds of our senses, we should not be\ninduced to think, that our intelligence, apparently so extended, may\nnevertheless run over a very circumscribed space. Our imagination goes\nmuch farther than our knowledge, but its domain is perhaps only a point\nin what is yet unexplored; and it is necessary to penetrate those\nunknown regions, to discover the truths which illustrate the mysteries\nthat surround us; but there is a Being who knows them, Omniscience is at\nthe summit of those gradations of intelligence which we trace. We know\nnothing, we do not discover any result but through the assistance of\nexperience and observation; and we only know the world by the little\nfront scene which meets our view: is it rational to suppose, that only\nthis kind of knowledge exists in the universe? Men, in the slow progress\nof their judgment, resemble children; but even this condition recals the\nidea of a father and a tutor. Every thing however shows us, that the\nph\u0153nomena of nature relate to a grand whole; we see that its dispersed\nproductions are united to some general cause; it is the same with human\nknowledge; more admirable than the rays of light spread through\nimmensity, it is an emanation from the most perfect light. In short, if\nspace, if time itself, those two existences without bounds, are subject\nto division, why should we not be induced to think, that the degrees of\nknowledge we experience and conceive, are also only a part of a\nuniversal intelligence?\n\nOf all the objections against the idea of a God, the weakest, in my\nopinion, is that drawn from the mixture of troubles and pleasures to\nwhich human life is exposed. A God, some will say, ought to unite every\nperfection, and we cannot believe in his existence, when we perceive\nlimits in his power or goodness.\n\nThis is a flimsy argument; for, if men do not admit as a proof of the\nexistence of a God, all that we discover of wisdom, harmony, and\nintelligence in the universe, what right have they to use an apparent\ncontrast between sovereign power and goodness, in order to attribute the\nformation of the world to chance. Would it be just, that the defects of\na work should be brought as a proof against the existence of a workman,\nwhilst the beauty of the same work was not allowed to support a contrary\nopinion? We should reason in a different manner; disorder and\nimperfection merely point out to us a negation of certain qualities; we\nmust, in general terms, throw an odium on the whole, in order to banish\nthe idea of an intelligent hand; whereas, to strengthen the other\nopinion, it is sufficient that particular parts announce art and genius.\nThus, when we enter a palace, if we find there distinct marks of\ntalents, we attribute its erection to an architect, even though in a\npart of the edifice we should not distinguish any traces of invention.\n\nI have already had occasion to show how we are led to these\nincomprehensible extremes, when we endeavour exactly to proportion the\nwisdom and power of an Infinite Being, and I shall not again dwell on\nthis argument: or repeat that from any imaginable hypothesis, we might\ndraw this deduction, that Omnipotence could have produced more\nhappiness.\n\nThere are ideas which appear contrary to reason, only because we cannot\nperceive them in one point of view; and we discover this truth, not only\nin considering things which are foreign to our nature, but when we turn\nour attention on the events which come daily under our inspection. Why\ndo we then suppose, that we can comprehend the most grand and noble\nthoughts? Is it consistent with the idea of an Infinite Power that we\nrefuse to credit the existence of infinite goodness? Is it consistent\nwith the idea of Infinite Wisdom that we will not admit the existence of\nOmnipotence? Nay more, is it consistent with the idea of infinite\nchances that we imagine the absurd systems concerning the formation of\nthe world? We use infinity for every thing, except to place above us an\nintelligence, whose properties and essence our reason cannot determine.\n\nWe are lost in a boundless uncertainty, when we try to go beyond the\nlimits of human powers. Thus, after having collected all the forces of\nour souls, to enable us to penetrate the existence of a God, we ought\nnot to exhaust ourselves in subtleties, vainly endeavouring to conceive\nin a just acceptation, and under evident relations, various attributes\nof an Infinite Being, who has chosen to make himself known to us in a\ncertain measure, and under certain forms; and it is too much to require\nof the worshippers of God, to defend themselves against those who\ncontest his existence, and dispute about the nature of his perfections.\nI am far from supposing any obstacle to the execution of his will; but I\nshould be full of the same religious sentiments, if I knew that there\nexisted order and laws in the nature of things, which the Divine Power\nhas a faculty of modifying, and that it cannot entirely destroy. I\nshould not less adore the Supreme Being, if, at the same time, his\nvarious attributes were in constant union, it was nevertheless, by\ndegrees, that he produced happiness; I should silently respect the\nsecrets which would escape my penetration, and wait with respectful\nsubmission, till the clouds were dissipated which still surrounded me.\nWhat then! always in ignorance and obscurity? Yes, always: such is the\ncondition of men, when they wish to go beyond the limits traced by the\nimmutable laws of nature; but the grand truths which we can easily\nperceive are sufficient to regulate our conduct, and afford us comfort.\nThat there is a God, every thing indicates and loudly announces; but I\ncannot discover either the mysteries of his essence, or the intimate\nconnection of his various perfections. I plainly see in a crowd the\nmonarch encircled by his guards; I know his laws, I enjoy the order he\nhas prescribed; but I assist not at his councils, and am a stranger to\nhis deliberations. I even perceive, that an impenetrable veil separates\nme from the designs of the Supreme Being, and I do not undertake to\ntrace them; I commit myself with confidence to the protection of that\nBeing whom I believe good and great, as I would rely on the guidance of\na friend during a dark night; and whilst I have my foot in the abyss, I\nwill depend on Him to snatch me from the danger and calm my terrors.\n\nIf we might be allowed the comparison, we should say, that God is like\nthe sun, which we cannot stedfastly gaze at; but throwing our eyes down,\nwe perceive its rays and the beauties it spreads around. However, men\nwho, either through a mistrust of their understanding, or the nature of\nit, have only by their reverence an intercourse with God, feel most\nforcibly the impression of his grandeur; as it is at the extremity of\nthe lever that we strongly experience its power.\n\nWe consider the general assent of nations and ages, in the opinion of\nthe existence of a God, as a remarkable presumption in favour of that\nopinion; but such a proof would lose part of its force, if we, in time,\nregarded as a kind of moral ph\u0153nomenon, the relation which all men may\nhave with an idea so sublime, notwithstanding the visible disparity\nwhich exists between their different degrees of understanding and\nknowledge; and this observation should lead to a thought, that in the\nmidst of the clouds, which obscure the idea of a God, sensibility\nbecomes our best guide: it seems the most innate part of ourselves, and\nin this respect to communicate, in the most intimate manner, with the\nAuthor of our Nature.\n\nThe sight advances before our other senses, the imagination goes beyond\nit; but as it is obliged to trace its own path, sensibility, which\nbounds over all, goes still further.\n\nThe reasoner, in his efforts to attain to profound metaphysical truths,\nforms a chain whose links rather follow each other, than are joined: the\nmind of man not being sufficiently subtle, and extended, cannot always\nunite exactly that infinite multitude of ideas which crowd at the\ndetermination of our meditations; sensibility is then the best\ncalculated to conceive the sublime truth, which not being composed of\nparts, is not susceptible of section, and can only be comprehended in\nits unity. Thus, whilst the mind often wanders in vain speculations, and\nloses itself in metaphysical labyrinths, the idea of a Supreme Being is\nimpressed, without effort, in a simple heart, which is still under the\ninfluence of nature: thus, the man of feeling, as well as the\nintelligent man, announces a Supreme Being, whom we cannot discover\nwithout loving; and this union of all the faculties of the soul towards\nthe same idea, this emotion, which resembles a kind of instinct, ought\nto be connected with a first cause; as there is for every thing a first\nmodel.\n\nIt is, perhaps, also the confused sentiment of that first model, which\nleads us to religion, when we see a virtuous man. Men, with their fatal\nsystems, would alter and annihilate every thing, but the comfortable\nhopes and thoughts which arise from a profound and rational admiration,\nwill still resist that destruction. They vainly wish to make us consider\nsuch a sentiment as the simple play of blind matter, whilst all within\nus seems to invite us to search for a more noble origin. And how can we\navoid seeing, in these great qualities of men, nobleness of soul,\nelevation of genius, expansion of heart, love of order, and interesting\ngoodness; how avoid seeing, in this rich picture, the reflection of a\ncelestial light, and concluding from it, that there is somewhere a first\nintelligence. Do rays exist without a centre of light? I know not, but\nhurried away by these reflections, I sometimes think, innate goodness,\nwhich we admire as the first rank in the scale of intelligent beings, in\na more immediate manner, leads to the knowledge of the Author of nature;\nand when this innate morality is found united in some persons with a\npresentiment of the Divine Nature, there is, in this agreement, a charm\nwhich impresses us; a kind of unknown character which attracts our\nrespect: as every tender and sublime thought is roused by the idea which\nwe form of the souls of Socrates and Fenelon.\n\nAt the same time, actuated by similar sentiments we experience a painful\nemotion, when we are informed, that there exist men, enemies to all\nthese ideas; men, who had rather debase themselves and humanity, by\nattributing their origin to chance, than resolve to consider the\nspiritual faculties which they enjoy as a faint sketch of the sovereign\nintelligence. Thus, instead of employing their minds to lend some force\nto these comfortable truths, or, at least probabilities so dear, they,\non the contrary, dispute their realty, and seek to embarrass by\nsophistry, the doctrines which tend to fortify the first dispositions of\nour nature: we see the materialists, rather then elevate themselves,\ndrag us with them from happiness and hope; they only grant eternity to\nthe dust, out of which, they say, we sprung. What honour, however, can\nthey derive from those more enlightened views which they boast of, if\nthey are only the result of a growth similar to that of plants; and if\nour spiritual faculties, so far from being lost, in some measure, in the\ninfinite intelligence, so far from being united to a grand destiny, are\nonly associated to this frail structure, which is every day, every hour,\nexposed to various dangers. What credit should we derive from these\nfaculties, if they only enabled us to describe, with precision, the\nalmost imperceptible circle of time, in which we live and die: if they\nonly served to raise us above our equals during that short moment of\nlife, which is hastening to lose itself in endless ages, as a light\nvapour in the immensity of air? How can you speak with delight of fame\nand promotion, when you voluntarily renounce the grandeur arising from\nthe most noble origin? You are proud of the celebrity of your country,\nthe renown of your families, and the only glory you desire not partake,\nis that which ennobles the whole human race!\n\nIn short, I would ask, by what strange error of the imagination it is,\nthat in meditating on the existence of a God, men do not go further than\nto doubt it; since to support, to guide our judgment, we have only an\nunderstanding whose weakness we continually experience; since it is\ncapable of gradual improvement, as knowledge is perpetually\naccumulating? There exists not any proportion between the measure of our\nknowledge and the unbounded extent which is displayed before us; there\nis not any between the union of all our powers and the profound\nmysteries of nature: how then shall we dare to say, that men are arrived\nat the pinnacle of knowledge, and that in the endless ages to come,\nthere will never break forth a more penetrating faculty than our weak\nreason?\n\nHowever, were men even to lose the hope of advancing one step in\nmetaphysical researches; and persisted to declare insufficient and\nimperfect the various proofs of the existence of a God; it is not to be\ncontested, that all other systems are surrounded with still greater\nobscurity, and they would only have a doubt as the result of their\nreasoning. But have they ever reflected on the influence a simple doubt\nhas, when that doubt is applied to an idea, whose relations are without\nbounds? Let us try to represent an equal probability in a circumstance\nwhich only concerns the interests of this transitory life, and we shall\nsoon see what force the same degree of probability would have in the\nimmensurable relations of the finite to the infinite. Thus, not only an\nuncertainty, but the slightest presumption of the existence of a God,\nwould, in the estimation of sound reason, be a sufficient foundation for\nreligion and morality. Yes, we might thus humbly pray, though depressed\nby doubt:\u2014O Thou God who art unknown! sovereign goodness whose image is\nstamped on our hearts\u2014if Thou existest, if Thou art Lord of this\nmagnificent universe, deign to accept our love and humble homage.\u2014\u2014\n\nUndoubtedly, these thoughts are sufficient to inspire with respect and\nfear beings ignorant of their origin, who have so little to sacrifice\nand so much to desire, who, on account of their extreme weakness, cannot\nrelinquish some hopes, and must attach themselves to a fixed and\npredominate idea, which may serve as an anchor in the midst of the\ninconsistencies and agitations of their minds.\n\nIt is, perhaps, because the time when every thing will be explained, is\nstill far distant, that many exaggerate their doubts, and often confound\nthem with a decided incredulity. I form to my imagination, a solemn\nperiod, when the inhabitants of the earth will be instructed in the\nmysteries of their nature and the secrets of futurity; and that some\nsignal ph\u0153nomenon will mark the awful day proper to fix our attention;\nand I am intimately persuaded, that, in such a moment, the men most\nindifferent about religion will appear dismayed, and even recognize that\nwhat they took for conviction, was but a wavering opinion, only\nsupported by self-love and a desire of distinction.\n\nAt the same time that I form this judgment of the pretended incredulity\nof several persons, I will venture a reflection of a different kind: it\nis, that superficial faith in the existence of God, and the opinions\nwhich depend on it, is not equivalent in effect to doubt retained in\nproper bounds; and perhaps, if these bounds were determined, the belief\nof one class of society would be less wavering.\n\nI anticipate another objection; those doubts, some may say, those doubts\nwhich so many men cannot smother, are they not an argument against the\nexistence of a God? for a Powerful Being, such as we suppose Him, could\nhave inspired a general confidence in that noble truth; He needed not to\nhave recourse to supernatural means; His will was sufficient. I confess,\nthat we can easily add, in imagination, several degrees to our knowledge\nand happiness; but that condition of our nature, of which the cause is\nunknown, can never be contrary to the idea of the existence of a God:\nall is limited in our physical properties and in our moral faculties;\nbut within these confines we see the work of a Supreme Intelligence, and\nwe discover every instant the traces of a divine hand, sufficiently\nobvious to direct our opinions. Unstable reasoning, concerning what we\nshould be, can never weaken the distinct consequences which arise from\nwhat we are.\n\nWhen the Laplander, in his cave, hears by chance the distant echo of\nthunder, he says, that _God still lives on the high mountain_; and, is\nit in the very bosom of munificent blessings, with the light of\nphilosophy, that men would wish to reject the idea of the existence of a\nSupreme Being? What an abuse of reason! Infinity ought to overwhelm the\nmost vigorous and enlightened understanding, make the wise man timid in\nhis judgment, and inform him what he is; can man do better than give way\nto the admiration the view of so many incomprehensible wonders must\nnecessarily inspire, and with fervour seize that chain of miracles which\nseem to promise to lead to the knowledge of the Creator of them? Can he\nbe more nobly employed, than in tracing an opinion, not only the most\nprobable, but the most grand and interesting? Alas! if we should ever\nlose it\u2014the idea is not to be endured; clouds and thick darkness would,\noverwhelm the feelings which seem to dart before our reason, to explore\nthe unknown country we pant after, and a melancholy and eternal silence\nwould appear to surround all nature: we should call for a comforter,\nimplore protection\u2014but where is it to be found? We should search for\nhope, but it is for ever fled\u2014Alas! this is not all, a terrific thought\nstrikes me, I hesitate a moment to communicate it; yet, it seems to me,\nthat we lend new force to religious opinions, when we demonstrate, by\nvarious ways, that the principles which destroy those opinions lead to a\nresult contrary to our nature. I will then conclude this chapter by a\nreflection of serious importance.\n\nIf there is not a God, if this world and the whole universe was only the\nproduction of chance or nature itself, subsisting from all eternity; and\nif this nature, void of consciousness, had not any guide or superior; in\nshort, if all its movements were the necessary effect of a property ever\nconcealed in its essence, a terrible thought would alarm our\nimagination: we should not only renounce the hopes which enliven life,\nwe should not only see continually advancing towards us the image of\ndeath and annihilation, these dreadful anticipations would not be all\u2014an\nuncertain cause of fear would trouble the mind. In fact, the revolutions\nof a blind nature being more obscure than the designs of an Intelligent\nBeing, it would be impossible to discover on what base, in the universe,\nreposed the destiny of men; impossible to foresee whether, by some one\nof the laws of that imperious nature, intelligent beings are devoted to\nperish irrevocably, or revive under some other form; if they are to\nstumble on new pleasures, or suffer eternally: life and death, happiness\nand misery, may belong indifferently to a nature whose movements are not\ndirected by any intelligence, are not connected by any moral idea, but\nsolely dependent on a blind property, which is represented by that word,\nterrible and inexplicable _necessity_. A like nature would resemble the\nrocks to which Prometheus was bound, that were equally insensible to the\nagonizing groans of the wretch, and to the joy of the vultures who\npreyed on his vitals.\n\nThus, in a like system, nothing would be able to fix our opinion with\nrespect to futurity, and guard the sensible part of ourselves from\nyielding to some unknown force: in short, can we reply without\ntrembling? nothing,\u2014and of course eternal torments might accidentally\nbecome our portion.\n\nThe momentary experience of life might, perhaps, inspire us with a kind\nof tranquillity; but what is that in immensity, but calculations founded\non the observance of a short interval? What is that hope which only a\nfleeting moment gives weight to? It is as if the fluttering insect,\nwhich lives but a day, should consider it as a representation of the\neternal condition of the universe. The mixture of pains and pleasures,\nto which men are subject on earth, is not a certain proof of what may\nhappen in other times and places; for unity, equality, and analogy, all\nthose sources of probability, and principles to judge from, are\nconnected with general ideas of order and harmony, but those ideas are\nnot applicable to a nature subject to necessity.\n\nWe have some difficulty to assure ourselves of the designs of a Supreme\nBeing: however, by a kind of analogy we shall be able to form an idea of\nthe divine will; and our minds, our feelings, and virtues, all aid us in\nthe search; but were we sprung from an insensible nature, we should not\nhave any connection with the different parts of its immense extent, and\nthe attentive study of our moral constitution would not throw a light on\nthe various revolutions of which the material world is susceptible. We\nshould only discover, that there would be much less reason to oppose, in\nimagination, limits to the varied movements of a nature without a guide,\nthan to circumscribe, in some manner, the actions of an Omnipotent\nBeing, whose other attributes are also infinite; for the ideas of order,\njustice, and goodness, which arise from a knowledge of His perfections,\nseem to trace a circle in the midst of infinity, which the mind of man\nmay perceive. Yes, these ideas subject a great space to our\ncontemplations; but what advantage is there in trying to be acquainted\nwith the mysteries of an insensible nature, or to penetrate the secret\nof the motion impressed by blind necessity?\n\nLet me repeat it then, as a termination to these reflections; all would\nbe obscure, all mere chance in the fate of man, if we did not attribute\nthe disposition and preservation of the world to the omnipotent will of\nan Intelligent Being, whose perfections our feelings and thoughts\nfaintly represent.\n\nIn short, when even in the system of the eternity of nature, men were\nassured that death destroys individuality, and were they even able to\ndrive away the idea of the continuation or renewal of it, by any\nsentiment or remembrance; would it be evident, that we should be\nabsolutely indifferent about the torments rational beings may endure in\nthat space which is represented by the idea of infinity and eternity?\nThe metaphysical idea, which determines us to place our consciousness on\nthat imperceptible and mysterious point, which unites our present\nthoughts to the past, and our actual sentiments to our hopes and fears;\nthis thought is not sufficient to make us regardless of our fate, or\nrender us indifferent to the unknown effects which may result from the\nrevolutions of a nature, which we are not acquainted with: the anxieties\nand troubles of the beings who are to live in the ages yet unborn, do\nnot interest us as belonging to any particular person; however, we have,\nfor those abstract misfortunes, in this instance, a sympathy which\nescapes reasoning.\n\nI agree, that in the system of undirected nature, happiness or misery,\ntransitory or without end, have the same degree of probability: but what\na terrifying resemblance! Can we undismayed consider such a chance?\n\nHow happens it then, that some pretend, that atheism frees us from every\nkind of terror about futurity? I cannot perceive, that such a conclusion\nflows from this fatal system. A God, such as my heart delineates,\nencourages and moderates all my feelings; I say to myself, He is good\nand indulgent, He knows our weakness, He loves to produce happiness; and\nI see the advances of death without terror, and often with hope. But\nevery fear would become reasonable, if I lived under the dominion of an\ninsensible nature, whose laws and revolutions are unknown: I seek for\nsome means to escape from its power;\u2014but even death cannot afford me a\nretreat, or space an asylum. I reflect, if it is possible, to find\ncompassion and goodness; but here is no prime intelligence, no first\ncause, a blind nature surrounds us, and governs imperiously. I in vain\ndemand, what is to be done with me? it is deaf to my voice. Devoid of\nwill, thought, and feeling, it is governed by an irresistible force,\nwhose motion is a mystery never to be unfolded. What a view for the\nhuman mind, to anticipate the destruction of all our primitive ideas of\norder, justice, and goodness! Shall I further say, when even, in every\nsystem, the entrance of the future was unknown, I should be less unhappy\nand forlorn, if it was to a father, a benefactor, that I committed the\ndeposit of life which I held from him; this last communication with the\nMaster of the World would mitigate my pains; my eyes, when closing,\nwould perceive His power; that I should not lose all, I might still hope\nthat God remained with those I loved, and find some comfort in the\nthought, that my destiny was united to His will, that my existence and\nthe employments I devoted myself to, formed one of the indelible points\nof His eternal remembrance; and that the incomprehensible darkness I was\ngoing to plunge into, is equally a part of His empire. But when a\nfeeling and elevated soul, which sometimes enjoys a sentiment of its own\ngrandeur, should certainly know, that dragged by a blind motion, it was\ngoing to be dissipated, to be scattered in that dreary waste, where all\nthat is most vile on earth is indifferently precipitated; such a thought\nwould blight the noblest actions, and be a continual source of sadness\nand despondency. Save us from these dreadful reflections, sublime and\ncherished belief of a God! afford us the courage and comfort we need,\nand guard our minds, as from fatal phantoms, from all those vain\nsuppositions, those errors of reasoning and metaphysical subtleties,\nwhich interpose between man and his Creator! And we, full of confidence\nin the first lesson of nature, will take for a guide that interior\nsentiment which is not thought, but something more, which neither\nreasons nor conjectures; but perhaps forms the closest connexion and\nmost certain communication with those grand truths which the\nunderstanding alone can never reach.\n\n\n\n\n                               CHAP. XV.\n     _On the Respect that is due from true Philosophy to Religion._\n\n\nThe view of the universe, the reflections of our minds, and the\ninclinations of our hearts, all concur to strengthen the thought, that\nthere exists a God; and without power to comprehend this Infinite Being,\nto form a just idea of His essence and perfections, the confused\nsentiment of his grandeur, and the continual experience of their own\nweakness, are so many imperious motives, which, in all ages and\ncountries, have impelled men to worship a God. Those natural ideas have\nacquired new force by the light of revelation; but it is not in a\nmetaphysical work that the authenticity of the Christian religion ought\nto be discussed; nor could we add much to the doctrines contained in\nbooks composed at different periods on this important subject. All\ndiscussions which are allied to truths, whose authenticity depends on\nfacts, are necessarily confined within certain bounds; and we are\nobliged to pursue a beaten track, and run over the same circle, when we\nenter on such a well-known subject. I shall then confine myself to some\ngeneral reflections, and make choice of those which are best adapted to\nthe particular genius of the present age, and the modifications which\nour sentiments receive from predominate opinions; for our judgments,\nlike our impressions, vary with the change which happens insensibly in\nhabits and manners: one age is that of intolerance and bigotry; another\nof relaxation and indifference, or a contempt of all ancient customs:\nevery century, every generation is distinguished by a general character,\na character which we take sometimes for new ideas; whilst it is nothing\nbut the natural effect of exaggeration in our preceding opinions. Men\nare subject to moral laws, similar in several respects to mechanical\nrules; and with all their knowledge and pride, they remind us of those\nchildren, who, placed at the extremity of a long balance, rise and fall\nsuccessively. They can only be fixed by moderate sentiments, which are\nsustained by their own force; any other has a borrowed action, and this\naction is never in perfect equilibrium with truth.\n\nIt is in the nature of revelation to appear less evident to the mind, in\nproportion as the proofs of its authenticity are distant; and if, among\nthe dogmas united to a religious doctrine, some one contains a mystic\nsense; if, among the forms of worship adopted, some one is not consonant\nwith the simple and majestic idea which we ought to have of the Master\nof the World; it would not be extraordinary that this religious\ninstitution, considered in its different parts, should give birth to\ncontroversies; and we should not be exasperated against those, who,\nafter having faithfully examined, still have some doubts. It is in\nproportion to the extent of our understanding that God has thought fit\nto manifest Himself to us; thus, the exertion of those faculties of the\nmind cannot be displeasing to Him. But reason left to itself, and even\nwhen improved by philosophy, should, by no means, lead men to any kind\nof contempt for religious worship in general, or any of the particular\nopinions of which Christianity is the support. Any doctrine which leads\nto the adoration of the God of the universe is worthy of the respect of\nHis creatures: thus, persons most disposed to contest the authenticity\nof the sacred books, ought still to love precepts which seem to come to\nthe aid of the human mind, in order to assist men in the last efforts\nwhich they make to know more of God; as the friendly bark, offered to\nthe forlorn wretch struggling on the surface of the immense waste of\nwaters, on which his feeble hands have vainly endeavoured to support\nhim.\n\nWe cannot but have discovered, that the sentiments of gratitude and\nrespect which inspire men, the most capable of reflection, with the idea\nof a God, are intimately connected with the Christian doctrines, such as\nwe find them in the New Testament; and in those moments, when, with the\ndesire of happiness, and the timidity which belongs to our nature, we\nseek to unite our littleness to supreme grandeur, and our extreme\nweakness to Omnipotence, the divine perfections which the gospel\ndelineates encourage our hopes and dissipate our fears; religion shows\nus all that we have need of in our miserable condition, a sovereign\ngoodness, an inexhaustible compassion: thus then, the last link of the\nChristian faith, like the termination of the deepest meditations,\nreaches the same conclusion; and religion agrees with philosophy, in the\nmoment when it is most elevated.\n\nHowever, the Christian and the Deist unite, in some manner, in the\nultimate tendency of their thoughts; they meet when they throw their\nattention on civil society, and when they seek to determine the duties\nof men; for a wise man must ever pay homage to the morality of the\ngospel, and the philosopher could not have imagined a more reasonable\nsystem, or one more conformable to our situation[6]. If it is then true,\nthat opinions, in appearance opposite, approach, at their extremities;\nand if it is true, that the adoration of a God, and respect for\nmorality, form by uniting, the circle of evangelical doctrines, it very\nlittle concerns the reasonable philosopher, that the Christian faith is\nplaced between those two grand ideas; if he thinks he can himself\nexplore the space which separates man from his Creator, for what reason\nwould he condemn with bitterness the sentiments of those who are\nattached to the comfortable system of intercession and redemption, of\nwhich Christianity has laid the foundation?\n\nIn short, were they even not to agree in every opinion with the\ninterpreters of the Christian doctrine, this would not be a sufficient\nreason for breaking the religious alliance which ought to subsist\namongst men; an alliance represented and rendered authentic, in every\nnation, by the public worship which has been made choice of by the\ngovernment. What idea then should we have of the genius or the abilities\nof a philosopher, who, at the sight of the ceremonies of the public\nworship which disgust him, could not rise above them, so as to consider\nthem, in some measure, as the atmosphere of religious opinions, which\nturning his attention from the importance of those opinions, could not\npreserve, at least, some respect for all the dependencies of the most\nsublime and salutary thought? It is easy, however, to perceive, that,\nfor the generality of men, the duties of morality, religion, and all the\nexterior homage rendered to the Deity, compose a whole so closely\nconnected, that the basis is in danger when the outworks are attacked.\nThe imagination of the vulgar cannot be guided in the same manner as\nthat of the solitary thinker; and it would be committing a great error,\nto try to influence the opinions of the generality by the same\nconsiderations which are sufficient for the man who profoundly reflects:\nthere is a system proportionate to the different faculties of\nintelligent beings, as there is one applicable to the varied forces of\ntheir physical nature.\n\nI know nothing more dangerous, than the inconsiderate censures of those\nreligious ceremonies received and respected in the country we live in:\nsome do not think that they are acting wrong when they speak slightingly\nof the various symbols of public worship; yet, if they attentively\nobserved the kind of minds, and the first habits of the greater part of\nthose to whom they address such discourses, they would know how easy it\nis to wound them in the sentiment which is the source of all their\ntranquility, and the safeguard of their moral conduct. The deliverer of\nSwitzerland struck off with one of his arrows an apple placed on the\nhead of his only son; but every one cannot expect to be so fortunate.\n\nSome would contradict these assertions, by saying, that celebrated men\nhave occasioned rapid changes in the church of Rome without weakening\nreligion. The origin, the circumstances, and the result of a revolution\nso marked in history, has not any connexion with the present question;\nthe reformers of the sixteenth century, preaching a new doctrine, openly\nprofessed religious zeal and a fervent piety: thus, at the same time\nthat they disapproved of a part of the established worship, they more\nrigidly recommended all the fundamental opinions of Christianity, and\nsought to introduce a severity of manners which even extended to the\nproscription of several indulgences that had not been before condemned:\nand, in fact, if the new doctrines had not been united to the greatest\nrespect for the essential principles of the Christian religion, they\nnever would have had so many followers.\n\nThey cannot then establish any kind of comparison between the censures\npoured forth by the reformers, and the ridicule or contempt of those who\nnow insult our most respectable opinions; those men, who at present\nabound, are sometimes excited by a libertinism of mind and conduct, by\nself-love or the enthusiasm of false philosophy, and some of them are\nseduced by an air of superiority, attached to the principles which they\nthemselves institute. There is a great difference between the grave and\nserious course of the reformers, and the various evolutions of the\nactive opponents of religion: the latter do not take care to stop at\nclearing up a point of doctrine, or a disputed interpretation of some\ndogma; it is religion itself that they wish to attack, and if they begin\nwith the outworks, it is in order to undermine it; they take skilfully\ntheir post, and know when to have recourse to a tone of pleasantry;\nwhich is very dangerous, as it gives an air of confidence to those who\nemploy it, and they obtain a kind of ascendency in avoiding every idea\nof an equal combat: one is disposed to think, that it is by disdain that\nthey glance slightly over the subject; we cowardly submit to the\nappearance of their superiority; and that which is in them weakness or\nimpotence gives consequence.\n\nMen, in order to express their gratitude to the sovereign Master of the\nWorld, must borrow from their imaginations every thing grand and\nmajestic: thus, when they detach from those reverential signs the ideas\nthat they represented and preserve, they only display a vain gravity, a\nchimerical pomp; and it is easy to make a similar contrast a subject of\nridicule; but in acting thus, far from making us applaud their talents,\nthey insult, without any sense, the habit most men have acquired of\nvenerating, on the whole, every system of worship paid the Supreme\nBeing.\n\nNevertheless, the bold and frivolous discourses which are permitted\nagainst religion in general, have made such a progress, that at present\nthe persons who most respect these opinions, without ostentation or\nseverity, find themselves obliged to conceal or moderate their\nsentiments, lest they should be exposed to a kind of contemptuous pity,\nor run the risk of being suspected of hypocrisy. We are at liberty to\nspeak on every subject, except the most grand and interesting which can\noccupy men. What strange authority gave rise to this imperious\nlegislation, which is termed fashionable? What a miserable conspiracy,\nthat of weakness against Omnipotence! Men are proud of knowing at what\nhour the king wakes, goes to the chace, or returns; they are very eager\nto be informed of the vile intrigues which successively debase or exalt\nhis courtiers; they pass, in short, their whole lives in panting after\nobjects of vanity and badges of slavery; they are continually brought\ninto conversation; and they proscribe, under the dreadful name of\nvulgarity, the most remote expression, which would recal the idea of the\nharmonious universe, and the Being who has bestowed on us all the gifts\nof the mind; what is most excellent in our nature we overlook, to dwell\nonly on the inflations of vanity. Ungrateful that we are! Our\nintelligence, our will, all our senses, are the seal of an unknown\npower; and, is it the name of our Master and Benefactor that we dare not\npronounce? it is from your modern philosophers that this false shame\narises; you, who spread derision over the most respectable sentiments,\nand employing in the dispute the frivolous shafts of ridicule, have\ngiven confidence to the most insignificant of men; you have, for your\nfollowers, a numerous race, which is taken promiscuously from every rank\nand age.\n\nWe now reckon, amongst those who oppose a contemptuous smile to\nreligious opinions, a multitude of young people, often incapable of\nsupporting the most trivial arguments, and who, perhaps, could not\nconnect two or three abstract propositions. These pretended philosophers\nartfully, and almost perfidiously, take advantage of the first flight of\nself-love, to persuade beginners, that they are able to judge at a\nglance, of the serious questions which have eluded the penetration of\nthe most exercised thinkers: in short, such is in general the decisive\ntone of the irreligious men of our age, that in hearing them so boldly\nmurmur about the disorders of the universe, and the mistakes of\nProvidence; we are only surprised to see how much they differ in stature\nfrom those rebellious giants mentioned in the heathen mythology.\n\nI believe, however, that if contempt for religious opinions did not\nproduce a striking contrast, those who profess to feel this contempt\nwould quickly adopt other sentiments; they only superficially attend to\nthe pernicious tendency of their maxims, whilst they believe themselves\nstill in the opposition; but if they ever obtained a majority, not\nhaving then the spur of self-love, they would soon discover the\nabsurdity of their principles, and hastily throw them aside.\n\nThere are, undoubtedly, a great number of estimable persons, who highly\nvalue the truths and precepts of religion, yet are a prey to doubt and\nuncertainty, and who become the first victims of the inconsistencies of\ntheir minds; but men of such a character do not aim at dominion, on the\ncontrary, they rather wish to be confirmed by the example of those whose\nconfidence is more assured; they would consider with interest the\nsentiments that unfortunately have made too slight an impression on\nthem; and they would endeavour to strengthen their weak hopes, till they\nreached the courageous persuasion which inspires the Christian:\u2014\u2014yes,\neven the enthusiasm of piety excites their envy, as it is more\ndelightful to yield to the emotions of a lively imagination, than to\nstruggle with apathy against the opinions calculated to diffuse\nhappiness. Thus, if amongst the number of persons that I have just\ndelineated, there were some to whom nature had granted superior talents,\nwit or eloquence, they would carefully avoid exerting them to disturb\nthe repose of those peaceable souls who calmly rely on religion, and\nreceive all their consolation from that source. A wise man never permits\nhimself to spread sadness and discouragement, in order to gratify the\nridiculous vanity of exalting himself a little above common opinions, or\nto show his abilities by making some ingenious distinctions concerning\nparticular parts of the established religion; in the same manner, as it\nwould be the height of folly to stop an army during its march, to\ndiscriminate systematically the perfect justness of the different tones\nof the warlike instruments of music. The bold and frivolous opinions of\nseveral philosophers, have appeared to me to be weak, where they most\nwish to rise; I mean, in the extent and loftiness of their views.\n\nI need not speak to those who deny even the existence of a God. Alas! if\nthey are so unhappy as to shut their eyes, and not to admit this\nresplendant light; if they have a soul so insensible, as not to be\naffected with the comfortable truths which flow from such a noble\nthought; if they are become deaf to the interesting voice of nature; if\nthey trust more to their weak reasoning, than the warnings of conscience\nand sensibility; at least, let them not spread their disastrous\ndoctrine, which, like the head of Medusa, would transform every thing\ninto stone. Let them remove from us that frightful monster, or let his\nhoarse hissing be only heard in the dreary solitude, of which their\nheart presents the idea; let them spare the human race, and have pity on\nthe distress into which they would be plunged, if the mild light, which\nserves to guide them, were ever to be obscured: in short, if they really\nbelieve that morality can agree with atheism, let them give the first\nproof of it, by remaining silent; but if they cannot abstain from\npublishing their opinions, let a remnant of generosity induce them to\ninform us of their dangerous tendency, by placing in the frontispiece of\ntheir works this terrible inscription of Dante\u2019s: _Lasciat\u2019 ogni\nsperanza voi ch\u2019 entrate_.\n\n\n\n\n                               CHAP. XVI.\n       _The same Subject continued. Reflections on Intolerance._\n\n\nThe surface of the earth represents to us about the two hundred and\nfortieth part of the surperfice of the different opaque bodies which\nrevolve round the sun.\n\nThe fixed stars are so many suns, which, according to all appearance,\nserve equally to enlighten and fertilize planets similar to those we are\nacquainted with.\n\nA famous astronomer[7] has lately discovered fifty thousand new stars in\na zone fifteen degrees in length and two in breadth, a space which\ncorresponds with the thirteen hundred and sixty-fourth part of the\ncelestial sphere.\n\nThus, supposing that we perceive an equal number of stars in every other\nparallel section of the firmament, the quantity we should be acquainted\nwith would rise to near sixty-nine millions.\n\nAnd if each of these stars were the centre of a planetary system,\nresembling the one we inhabit, we should have an idea of the existence\nof a number of habitable globes, whose extent would be sixteen or\nseventeen millions of times more considerable than the surface of the\nearth[8].\n\nHowever, the ingenious invention which assists us to explore the vaulted\nfirmament is susceptible of new improvement; and even at the period when\nit may arrive at the greatest perfection, the space which our astronomic\nknowledge may have taken possession of, will only be a point in the vast\nextent which our imagination can conceive.\n\nThis imagination itself, like all our intellectual faculties, is perhaps\nonly a simple degree of infinite powers; and the images that it presents\nare but an imperfect sketch of universal existence.\n\nWhat then becomes of our earth, in the midst of that immensity which the\nhuman mind vainly tries to grasp? What is it even now, compared with\nthat number of terrestrial bodies we can calculate or suppose?\n\nIs it then the inhabitants of this grain of sand, is it only a few of\nthem, that have discovered the true mode of worshipping the Creator of\nso many wonders? Their dwelling is a point in infinite space; the life\nwhich they enjoy is but one of the moments which compose eternity; they\npass away like a flash of lightning in that course of ages, in which\ngenerations after generations are lost. How then dare any of them\nannounce to the present age, and to those to come, that men cannot\nescape the vengeance of Heaven if they alter one tittle of the Ritual?\nWhat an idea they give of the relation established between the God of\nthe universe and the atoms dispersed throughout nature? Let them then\nraise one of the extremities of that veil which covers so many\nmysteries, let them consider a moment the wonders on every side, the\nstarry firmament, and the inconceivably dreary immensity which their\nimagination cannot embrace; and let them judge, if it is by the exterior\nform of their adoration, the vain pomp of their ceremonies, that this\nOmnipotent God can distinguish their homage. Is it then, by the pride of\nour opinions, that we think to reach the Supreme Being? It is more\ncomfortable, more reasonable to believe, that all the inhabitants of the\nearth have access to His throne, and that we are permitted to raise\nourselves to it by a profound sentiment of love and gratitude, as the\nmost sure and intimate relation between man and his Creator.\n\nUndoubtedly it is necessary that public worship should be constantly\nregulated, and that distinct symbols should be respected, whose\nessential character ought not to vary, that the sentiments of the\ngenerality, so promptly affected by exterior objects, may not be exposed\nto any alteration; it is necessary that weak minds easily find their\nway, and that they are not embarrassed with doubt and uncertainty; in\nshort, it is to be desired, that the citizens, united by the same laws\nand political interests, should be so by the same worship, in order that\nthe sacred band of religion may take them all in; and that principles of\neducation should be maintained and fortified by example. But as morality\nis the first law of princes, and that always clear and distinct in its\nmotives and instructions, it ought to precede the uncertain combinations\nof the politician. A government is never permitted to aim at any end by\nunjust means, let it be ever so desirable; and I believe that this rule\nis equally adapted to the opinions of men and their rights. It would be\npossible to conceive a system of distribution, with respect to the\nfortunes of men, more convenient than any other for the increase of\npublic wealth and the power of the state; but though this knowledge\nshould influence the general conduct of government, it receives no right\nfrom its discernment, to arrange according to its will, the situation of\nevery citizen. The same principle has greater force applied to opinions:\nit is reasonable to seek to direct their course by slow and mild means;\nbut the system of unity, which is certainly most conducive to the\nhappiness of a state, would cease to be good, if, in order to establish\nthat system, violence, or merely constraint, was had recourse to:\nliberty of thought is the first of rights, and the most respectable\ndominion is that of conscience.\n\nSome now talk of the union of civil tolerance and religious intolerance;\nthe one protects Protestants in Catholic countries, and Catholics in\nProtestant countries; and the other would forbid every kind of worship\nwhich is not conformable to the institutions of the predominant\nreligion: but upon this plan, if the number of Dissenters was to become\nconsiderable, an important part of the nation would be without worship;\nand the government should not appear indifferent to this, since it is of\ngreat importance to mankind to maintain carefully every support of\nmorality.\n\nThere is nothing more to be said on intolerance when we consider it in\nits excess. We all now know what we ought to think of the severities and\npersecutions which history has transmitted an account of, and we know\nthe opinion we should form of many acts of intolerance and inhumanity\nwhich some have for a long time gloried in; and we cannot stifle our\nindignation at the sight of the faggots that are still lighted round\nthose unhappy wretches scattered over the face of the earth, of whom\nJesus Christ himself said, with so much goodness, in the midst of his\nagonies; _Father forgive them, for they know not what they do_. It is\ntime to abolish for ever those dreadful customs, ignominious remembrance\nof our ancient phrensies! O God, are these Thy creatures that they dare\nto torment in Thy name! Is it the work of Thy hand that they sacrifice\nto Thy glory?\u2014Petty tyrants! ferocious inquisitors! do you expect to\nobtain the favour of Heaven, with a heart hardened, after mutilating the\nmembers and tearing the bosoms of those whom you can only draw to you by\na sentiment of pity? whose emotions you are not acquainted with? The God\nof goodness rejects such offerings\u2014He cannot away with them. Who then\nwill pardon errors, if not men who are continually deceived! Alas! if\nexactness of judgment, or the perfection of reason, were the only title\nto divine benevolence, there is not any one who might not cast down his\neyes devoid of all hope.\n\nThose who proudly flatter themselves, that they alone know the worship\nagreeable to the Supreme Being, lose all their claim to our confidence,\nwhen, guided by a spirit of intolerance, they depart so visibly from the\ncharacter which ought to inspire the idea of a God, protector of human\nweakness. But the absurd attempt to inspire faith by acts of rigour and\nseverity, has been so often and so ably combated, that I shall not dwell\non a principle, the truth of which common sense will discover. I shall\nonly make one observation sufficient to intimidate the conscience of\ninquisitors, and all those who adopt their maxims. The operations of the\nmind can only be influenced by reasoning, all the designs formed to\nattain this end by violence are attempts to subvert the belief of the\nspirituality of the soul, and indirect associations with materialists;\nfor we must believe in the identity of matter and thought to have a\nright of presuming, that the empire exercised on us by rigorous\ntreatment can have an influence on our opinions; and then we must\nconsider man as a being governed by mechanical laws, to be able to\nimagine, that with instruments of torture we can excite a sensation,\nwhich, by an unknown conduit, might act instead of judgment and the\nsentiment of persuasion.\n\nIt is because, the indignant emotions of a worthy heart are more\npowerful than the cool arguments of offended reason, that we rise with\nwarmth against intolerance; for without this motive it would only\ndeserve our contempt, as indicating a singular littleness of soul. Who\ncan remember without pity, those dissensions so long maintained, in\nwhich men, both weak and blind, united in the name of devotion, actuated\nby self-love, unintelligible decrees, to some important controversy? All\nthese disputes appear foolish when we coolly examine them; and we have\nonly to consider, abstractedly, those quarrels, to discover all their\nabsurdity.\n\nBut as it is only by spreading knowledge and diffusing wholesome\nprecepts that we can hope to cure enthusiasm and intolerance; we ought\nto be on our guard against the dangerous spirit of indifference,\notherwise one evil will be removed only to introduce another equally\nfatal; when trying to divert men from fanaticism, we destroy the ideas\nwhich served as a foundation for religion. There could not subsist any\nsound opinion or estimable principle, if the different errors which\ncreep round them were torn away by an awkward or violent hand; and is\nthe evil, which continually mixes with the good, became the subject of\nblind proscription.\n\nLet us loudly acknowledge the benefits which we have received from\ndistinguished writers, who have defended with zeal and energy the cause\nof toleration; it is an obligation, added to many others, which it is\njust to acknowledge, that we have received from genius and talents\nunited: but permit us also to observe, that several of those writers\nhave lost a part of the applause due to them, by seeking to depress\nreligion, in order to succeed in their attempt; such a proceeding was\nunworthy of enlightened philosophers, who more than others ought to\nassign limits to reason, and never despair of its influence. What should\nwe think, if, amongst those who justly attack the tyranny exercised over\nconscience, there were some intolerant in the defence of toleration; and\nif we had reason to reproach them with despising, and sometimes hating\nthose who do not concur with them; and by an inconsiderate imputation of\npusillanimity or hypocrisy, make the characters and intentions of those\nwho do not adopt their sentiments appear suspicious? What a strange\ninconsistency, in a different way, do they not exhibit; forgetting,\nsometimes, their own opinions, and contradicting, without thinking,\ntheir acknowledged incredulity, they raise a clamour about the miseries\nto which mankind are subject, and display the pretended disorders of the\nuniverse, in order, afterwards, to throw an odium on the God whose\nexistence they contest, to ridicule a Providence they do not rely on!\nOne would think, that after having overturned the empire of the Deity,\nthat they might remain the only legislators of the world; they regretted\nnot having any longer a rival, and wished to rebuild the temple they\nhave destroyed, to have again a vain idol to insult. Another\ninconsistency appears in their asperity against those who resist their\ndogmas, whilst, in the system of fate, reason does not preserve its\nempire, and the master, as well as the disciple, are equally subject to\nthe laws of necessity.\n\nTo exercise an authority over the mind by the power of eloquence is a\ngreat advantage; for such an authority is not confined to any place or\ntime; but to have a right to such an extensive reign, we must renounce\nfashionable opinions, the counsels of vanity and the instigations of\nself-love; and be only actuated by that universal and durable interest,\nthe happiness of mankind.\n\nI would not wish to prohibit the wise man or philosopher from treating\nany subject proper to direct our judgment; for there are abuses and\nprejudices every where, which we cannot destroy without making a step\ntowards reason and truth; but as there is a philosophy for the thoughts,\nthere is one also for the actions. I indeed wish that men of an enlarged\nturn of mind, who perceive at a glance the moral order of things, would\nattack with more caution and moderation, and at a proper season, that\nwhich directly relates to the opinions most essential to our happiness;\nand that a respect for these opinions should be manifest, even when they\ncensure fanaticism and superstition.\n\nSuch a wish is far from being realized; and I cannot help lamenting,\nwhen I consider the design of the greater part, who have written for\nsome time past on religious subjects: some seek artfully to destroy, or,\nat least, relax the band which unites men to the idea of a Supreme\nBeing; and others shut up in some mystic idea, as in a dark den, blindly\nlevel their anathemas against every kind of doubt and uncertainty; and\nconfound, in their rigorous censures, the accessary ideas with the\nprincipal opinions.\n\nHowever, in taking a course so opposite, they unfortunately have an\nequal interest in ranking the essential principles of religion with the\nmost insignificant symbols: but influenced by very different motives;\nthe former act with a view of making religious zeal serve to defend\nevery part of the worship of which they are the ministers; the latter,\nguided by a motive of self-love, readily admit confusion, that they may\nhave an opportunity of undermining religion when they attack its\noutworks.\n\nWe have need, more than ever, to be directed to religion by wise and\nmoderate discourses, by a happy mixture of reason and sensibility, the\ntrue characteristic of evangelical morality. It is only by these means\nthat the authority of salutary truths can be strengthened: we are easily\nhurried beyond the just line, when the human mind is not in a state to\nmark any limits; but the daily progress of knowledge obliges us to use\nmore exactness: it is necessary then to rein in the imagination, and to\nallow reason to take place of it: yet it is still allowed us to animate\nreason, and even useful to do so, but we must absolutely avoid\ndisguising it. False notions only have need of the assistance of\nexaggeration; it seems that some are very fond of extremes, that common\nsense may not investigate them.\n\nI will make another observation. Those who, to free us from\nsuperstition, endeavour to relax religious restrictions; and those who,\nto strengthen them, have recourse to intolerance, equally miss their\naim. The hatred so naturally excited by every kind of violence and\nconstraint, in matters of opinion, creates a repugnance in those persons\nto religion who are insensibly led to consider this excellent system as\nthe motive or excuse for a blind spirit of persecution. And the direct\nattacks against religious opinions engage well-disposed minds to adhere\nmore strenuously to every custom which appears a form of respect or\nadoration; as we redouble our zeal for a friend in the midst of those\nwho neglect or slight him.\n\nLet us unite, and it is certainly time, to render to the Supreme Being\nsincere worship; and let that worship always be worthy of the dignity of\nour Creator: let us banish severity and superstition; but let us equally\ndread that culpable indifference, the cause of so many misfortunes; and\nwhen we shall have strengthened the influence of sound reason, let us\nadhere more closely to the useful opinions which have been refined from\nerrors, and with all our force repulse those who wish us to bury our\nhopes to free ourselves from the wanderings of the imagination. Yes, a\nreligion, disengaged from the passions of men, in its native beauty,\nought to dwell with us; public order and private happiness equally claim\nit, and all our reflections lead us to elevate our hearts towards an\nOmnipotent Being, of whose existence all nature reminds us: religion\nwell understood, far from being the necessary principle of rigour or\nviolence, should be the foundation of every social virtue, and of every\nmild and indulgent sentiment. We are not called to tyrannize over the\nopinions of others, or to give despotic laws to the mind; we must\nobserve, that a moderate and rational religion only will guide us to the\npath of happiness and virtue, by addressing equally our hearts and\nminds.\n\n\n\n\n                              CHAP. XVII.\n        _Reflections on the Morality of the Christian Religion._\n\n\nI will venture a few reflections on a subject which has often been\ntreated; the course of my subject naturally leads to it: but in order to\navoid, as much as possible, what is generally known, I shall confine\nmyself to consider the morality of the gospel, under a point of view\nwhich seems to me to distinguish its sublime instructions.\n\nThe most distinct characteristic of christianity is the spirit of\ncharity and forbearance which pervades all its precepts. The ancients,\nundoubtedly, respected the beneficent virtues; but the precept which\ncommends the poor and the weak, to the protection of the opulent,\nbelongs essentially to our religion. With what care, with what love, the\nChristian legislator returns continually to the same sentiment and\ninterest! the tenderest pity lent to his words a persuasive unction; but\nI admire, above all, the awful lesson he has given, in explaining the\nclose union established between our sentiments towards the Supreme Being\nand our duties towards men. Thus, after having termed the love of God,\n_the first commandment of the law_, the Evangelist adds; _and the\nsecond, which is like unto it, is to love thy neighbour as thyself_. The\nsecond, which is like unto it! what simplicity, what extent in that\nexpression! Can any thing be more interesting and sublime, than to offer\ncontinually to our mind the idea of a God taking on himself the\ngratitude of the unfortunate? Where find any principle of morality, of\nwhich the influence can ever equal such a grand thought? The poor, the\nmiserable, however abject their state, appear surrounded with the symbol\nof glory, when the love of humanity becomes an expression of the\nsentiments which elevate us to God; and the mind ceases to be lost in\nthe immensity of His perfections, when we hope to maintain an habitual\nintercourse with the Supreme Being, by the services which we render to\nmen; it is thus that a single thought spreads a new light on our duty,\nand gives to metaphysical ideas a substance conformable to our organs.\n\nJustice, respect for the laws, and duty to ourselves, may be united, in\nsome manner, to human wisdom; goodness alone, among all the virtues,\npresents another character; there is in its essence something vague and\nundeterminate which claims our respect; it seems to have a relation with\nthat intention, that first idea which we must attribute to the Creator\nof the world, when we wish to discover the cause of its existence.\nGoodness then is the virtue, or to express myself with more propriety,\nthe primitive beauty, that which has preceded time. Thus the pressing\nexhortations to benevolence and charity, which we find running through\nthe gospel, should elevate our thoughts, and penetrate us with profound\nrespect; it recals us, it unites us, to a sentiment more ancient than\nthe world, to a sentiment, by which we have received existence, and the\nhopes which compose our present happiness[9].\n\nBut if, from these elevated contemplations, we, for a moment, descend to\nthe political principles which have the greatest extent, we shall find\nthere the influence of a truth on which I have already had occasion to\ndwell; but I shall now treat it in a different manner. The unequal\ndivision of property has introduced amongst men an authority very like\nthat of a master over his slaves; we may even justly say, that in many\nrespects the empire of the rich is still more independent; for they are\nnot bound constantly to protect those from whom they require services:\nthe taste and caprice of these favourites of fortune fix the terms of\ntheir convention with men, whose only patrimony is their time and\nstrength; and as soon as this convention is interrupted, the poor man,\nabsolutely separated from the rich, remains again abandoned to\naccidents; he is obliged then to offer his labours with precipitation to\nother dispensers of subsistence; and thus he may experience, several\ntimes in the year, all the inquietudes that must necessarily arise from\nuncertain recourses. Undoubtedly, in giving the support of the laws to a\nsimilar constitution, it has been reasonably supposed, that in the midst\nof the multiplied relations of social life, there would be a kind of\nbalance and equality between the wants which oblige the poor to solicit\nwages, and the desires of the rich which engage them to accept their\nservices; but this equilibrium, so essentially necessary, can never be\nestablished in an exact and constant manner, since it is the result of a\nblind concourse of combinations, and the uncertain effect of an infinite\nmultitude of movements, not one of which is subject to a positive\ndirection. However, since to maintain the distinction of property they\nwere obliged to leave to chance the fate of the greater number of men,\nit was indispensably necessary to find some salutary opinion, proper to\ntemper the abuses inseparable from the free exercise of the rights of\nproperty; and that happy and restoring idea could only have been\ndiscerned in an obligation of benevolence imposed on the will, and a\nspirit of general charity recommended to all men: these sentiments and\nduties, the last resource offered to the unfortunate, can alone mitigate\na system, in which the fate of the most numerous part of a nation rests,\non the doubtful agreement of the conveniences of rich with the wants of\nthe poor. Yes, without the aid, without the intervention of the most\nestimable of virtues, the generality would have just reason to regret\nthe social institutions, which, at the price of their independance, left\nto the master the care of their subsistence; and it is thus that\ncharity, respectable under so many different views, becomes still an\nintelligent and political idea, which serves to blend personal liberty\nand the imperious laws of property.\n\nI know not if ever the christian precepts have been considered under\nthis point of view; but reflecting a little on this subject, we perceive\nmore than ever of what importance the salutary institutions are, which\nplace in the first rank of our duties the beneficent spirit of charity,\nand which lends to the most essential virtue all the force and constancy\nwhich religion gives birth to. Thus, at the same time that the doctrines\nof the gospel elevate our thoughts, its sublime morality accompanies, in\nsome measure, our laws and institutions, to sustain those which are\nreally conformable to reason, and to remedy the inconveniences\ninseparable from the imperfections of human wisdom.\n\nIt is not, however, only to pecuniary sacrifices, that the gospel\napplies its precepts respecting charity; it extends to those generous\nacts of self-denial, that religion alone can render supportable; and\nwhich makes some descend with a firm step into the dreary abodes, in\nwhich the culprit is a prey to the remorse that tears his heart; and\nwhen his very relations have abandoned him, he still beholds a\ncomforter, whom religion conducts to pour consolation into his afflicted\nsoul. The same motives and thoughts induce some to renounce the world\nand its hopes, to consecrate themselves entirely to the service of the\nsick, and to fulfil those sad functions with an assiduity and a\nconstancy, that the most splendid reward could never excite. O rare and\ndisinterested virtue, perfection of piety! what a tribute of admiration\nis due to the sublime sentiment which inspires such painful self-denial!\nMen are only stimulated by notions of right and justice; it belongs to\nchristianity to impose duties, whose base is placed beyond the narrow\ncircle of our terrestrial interests. I know not, but it seems to me,\nthat, notwithstanding a diversity of opinions, we cannot help being\naffected, when we contemplate the sketch of the last day which the\ngospel delineates: it exhibits a terrific and sublime picture of that\nday, in which all actions are to be revealed, and the most secret\nthoughts have the universe for a witness, and God as a judge; and at the\nmoment when we wait to see the retinue of virtues and vices which have\nrendered men celebrated, it is a single quality, a virtue without\nsplendour, which is chosen by the Divine Arbiter of our fate, to derive\nan immortality of happiness from, and He pronounces these memorable\nwords, which contain in a small compass our whole duty:\u2014_I was hungry,\nand ye gave me meat; thirsty, and ye gave me drink; I was a prisoner and\nye visited me. Come ye blessed of my father, inherit the kingdom\nprepared for you_, &c. Men love to contemplate the triumphs of\ngoodness\u2014love to exalt it under different forms. We have so many wants,\nare so weak, and we are able to do so little for ourselves, that this\ninteresting virtue appears our safeguard and the mysterious tie of all\nnature.\n\nThe spirit of charity, so essential in its exact interpretation, may be\napplied to the regard and delicate attention that different degrees of\ntalents, render necessary: society, under this relation, has also its\nrich and poor; and we know the extent of charity and the secrets of our\nmoral nature, when we practice that general benevolence, which preserves\nothers from feeling a painful sentiment of inferiority, and which makes\nit a duty to respect the veil, that a beneficent hand has designedly\nplaced between the light of truth and those imperfections which we\ncannot entirely correct.\n\nIt is always about the generality of men that the author of christianity\nseems to be interested; the gospel takes cognizance of their private\nsentiments, condemning pride, and recommending modesty; and it applies\nitself to level those distances which appear to us so important, when we\nonly view the little points of gradation which compose our scale of\nvanity. Religion enables us to discern that haughtiness and contempt,\nonly display our ignorance and folly: _what hast thou, that thou didst\nnot receive? now if thou didst receive it, why dost thou glory?_\u2014What is\nthe pride that does not melt away before these awful words? Religion\nseems ever to tend towards the same end, and by continually reminding us\nof the brevity of life, to prevent strong illusions from engrossing our\nthoughts.\n\nThe greater part of ancient moral instructions were in general\naddressed, either to man considered as an individual occupied with the\ncare of his destiny, or to the citizen connected by his duties to his\ncountry, and none of them had sufficient extent: it is necessary, when\ngiving counsel to a solitary individual, only to try to free him from\nthose passions which would destroy his repose and happiness; and the\nobligations that are imposed on the different members of a political\nstate, necessarily participate of a jealous spirit, which the will of\nthe government may turn into hatred. The Christian religion, more\nuniversal in its views, turns its attention from the contrariety of\ninterests which divide men when they belong to different governments; it\nconsiders us indistinctly as citizens of a great society, united by the\nsame origin, nature, and dependencies, and by the same sentiment of\nhappiness. Recommending the reciprocal duties of benevolence, the gospel\ndoes not make any difference between the inhabitant of Jerusalem and\nSamaria; it takes man in the most simple of his relations, and the most\nhonourable, those which arise from his intercourse with the Supreme\nBeing; and under this point of view, all the hostile divisions of\nkingdom against kingdom, absolutely disappear; it is the whole human\nrace which has a right to the protection and the beneficence of the\nAuthor of Nature, and it is in the name of every intelligent being that\nwe credit the alliance which unites heaven to earth.\n\nThe rich and powerful made the first laws, or, at least, directed the\nspirit of them; it was especially to defend their possessions and\nprivileges that they extolled justice: the legislator of our religion,\nspeaking of this virtue, has shown, that the interests of all men were\nequally present to his thoughts; we might even say, that he made an old\nobligation a new duty, by the manner in which he prescribed it:\n_Whatsoever ye would that men should do to you, do ye even so to them_,\nis a maxim ever remarkable, if we consider the extent of the precept\nwhich it contains: there are so many acts of severity and oppression, so\nmuch tyranny, which escapes the reach of the law, and the\nsuperintendency of opinion, that we cannot too highly value its\nimportance; Christianity indeed affords a simple guide and measure for\nall our actions.\n\nReligion, beside, in order to fix our determinations, strengthens the\nauthority of conscience: she saw, that every one of us has within\nhimself a judge, the most severe and clear-sighted, and that it is\nsufficient to submit to its laws to be instructed in our duty; for it is\nour hidden thoughts that this judge examines, and nothing is excused, no\nsubterfuge admitted.\n\nIt is not the same with those censures which we exercise towards others,\nthe simple actions only strike us; and the different motives they result\nfrom, the emotions, the conflicts which accompany them, and the regret,\nthe repentance, which follow them, all these essential characteristics\nescape our penetration: thus religion, always wise, always benevolent in\nits counsels, forbids our forming hasty and precipitate judgments; and\nwe cannot read, without emotion, that lesson of indulgence so mildly\naddressed to the crowd which surrounded the woman taken in adultery, _he\nthat is without sin among you, let him first cast a stone at her_. But\nhow resist being affected by admiration, when we see religion so warmly\nemployed about the fate of those whom the suspicions or false\naccusations of men have dragged before their tribunals? by declaring\nthat it is better to let a hundred culprits escape punishment, than run\nthe risk of condemning a single person unjustly. This tender anxiety\ncorresponds with every sentiment of our hearts. Innocence delivered to\ninfamy, innocence encompassed with all the horrors of an execution, is\nthe most dreadful sight that the imagination can present; and we are so\nstruck by it, that we should be almost disposed to think, that before\nthe Supreme Being the whole human race is responsible for such a crime:\nyes, it is under Thy protection, O my God, that unknown virtue and\ninjured innocence take shelter; men turn towards Thee for comfort when\npursued by men, and it is not in vain that they trust in that awful day\nwhen all shall be judged before Thee.\n\nI wish only to dwell on the particular character of the Christian\nreligion, as it proportions the merit of our actions, not to the\ngrandeur or importance of them; but to the relation that they have with\nour abilities, it is an idea absolutely new: this system, which presents\nthe same motives and rewards to the weak and strong, remarked the\nwidow\u2019s mite, as well as the generous sacrifices of opulence; this\nsystem, as just as rational, animates, in some measure, our whole moral\nnature, and seems to inform us, that a vast circle of good actions and\nsocial virtues are submitted to the same rules, as the immense domain of\nphysical nature, in which the simplest flower, or the most insignificant\nplant, concurs to perfect the designs of the Supreme Being, and composes\none part of the harmonious universe.\n\nThe superintendance of the Christian religion extends still further than\nI can point out; and guided by a spirit not to be equalled, it estimates\nour intentions, obscure dispositions, and internal determinations, often\nseparated from action by different obstacles: it directs men, in some\nmeasure, from their first sentiments and designs; it continually reminds\nthem of the presence of God; warns them to watch over themselves, when\ntheir inclinations are but dawning, before they have gained strength; in\nshort, at an early hour it forms the mind to the exercise of virtue, by\ndiscriminating virtue and vice, and reminding us to cultivate a love of\norder and propriety before the active scenes of life force those\nsentiments to appear conspicuously displayed in actions.\n\nBut the more the methods of meriting the divine approbation are\nmultiplied, the more essential is it that our confidence should not be\ndepressed, every instant, by the sentiment which arises from the\nexperience of our errors; it is necessary, that at the moments, too\nfrequent, when the chain which unites us to the Supreme Being would\nescape from our grasp, the hope of again seizing it should remain with\nus: it is then to succour our weak faith, that we see in the gospel that\nidea at once so excellent and new, that of repentance and the promises\nwhich are annexed to it. This noble idea, absolutely belonging to\nChristianity, prevents our relation with the Deity from being destroyed\nas soon as it is perceived; the culprit may still hope for the favour of\nGod, and after contrition confide in Him. Human nature, that singular\nconnexion of the spirit with matter, of strength with weakness, of\nreason with the imagination, persuasion with doubt, and will with\nuncertainty, necessarily requires a legislation appropriated to a\nconstitution so extraordinary: man, in his most improved state,\nresembles an infant, who attempts to walk, and falls, rises and falls\nagain; and he would soon be lost to morality, if, after his first fault,\nhe had not any hope of repairing it; under a similar point of view, the\nidea of repentance is one of the most philosophical which the gospel\ncontains.\n\nThat pressing recommendation to do good in secret, without ostentation,\nis the result of a salutary and profound thought: the legislator of our\nreligion undoubtedly had perceived that the praises of men was not a\nbasis sufficiently steady to serve for the support of morality; and he\ndiscerned, that vanity, allowed to enjoy these kind of triumphs, was too\ndissipated to be a faithful guide; but the most important part of that\nprecept is, that morality would be very circumscribed, if men only\nadhered to those just actions which all the world might see; there are\nnot many opportunities to do good in public, and the whole of life may\nbe filled by unseen virtues: in short, from that continual relation with\nour conscience, a relation instituted by religion, there results an\ninestimable benefit; for it is easy to perceive, that if we have within\nus a clear-sighted and severe judge, this same judge turns consoler and\nfriend every time that we are unjustly condemned, or when events do not\nanswer according to the purity of our intentions; and we believe then\nthat we have almost two souls, one aiding and sustaining the other on\nevery occasion in which virtue unites them.\n\nThe severe censure of superstition, which we find throughout the gospel,\nis derived from an idea as reasonable as enlightened; men are too much\ndisposed to make their religion consist of little exterior practices,\nalways easier than the conflicts with and triumphs over the passions:\nour minds seize with avidity every extraordinary idea; when they are in\npart of our own creating, they aid our self-love to subjugate our\nimagination; man is not at the age of maturity terrified by those\nphantoms which annoy his infancy; but mysteries, occult causes,\nextraordinary appearances, continue to make an impression on his mind;\nand like the wonders of nature, form too large a circle round his\nthoughts; it is by ideas more proportioned to his strength, by mere\nsuperstition, that he permits himself often to be led captive: we love\ntrivial commands, observances, and scruples, because we are little\nourselves, and that in our weakness we would wish to know every instant\nthe limits of our obligations.\n\nSometimes, persons terrified by their imaginations, or by the confused\npicture which they form of the duties of religion, attach themselves to\nsuperstitious practices as a safeguard near at hand which may quickly\nguard them from the different anxieties of their minds. The precepts of\nthe gospel are designed to destroy these dispositions; for on one side,\nthey facilitate the study of morality, by reducing to simple principles\nthe entire system of our duties; and on the other, they seek to render\nour intercourse with the Supreme Being more easy, by teaching us that we\nmay unite ourselves to Him by the expansion of a pure mind; by informing\nus, that it is not either on Mount Sion or Gerizim that we are to raise\nan altar; but that every honest heart is a temple, where the eternal is\nadored _in spirit and in truth_. The Christian religion is the only one\nwhich, discarding ceremonies and superstitious opinions, leads us to the\nworship more consonant to our nature: Christianity indeed, in that grand\nthought, has pointed out the dictates of our conscience as most worthy\nof respect; benevolence, as the worship most agreeable to the Supreme\nBeing, and all our moral conduct as the most certain prognostic of our\nfuture state. There reigns a profound philosophy in the doctrines of the\ngospel, men have only added a vain pageantry, a more sounding tone.\n\nLet us render homage to Christianity, for that sacred tie which it has\nformed, in uniting not for a moment, but for the whole of life, the fate\nof two beings, one having need of support, and the other of comfort: it\nis religion which refines this alliance by rendering it immutable, and\nobliges men not to sacrifice to the caprices of their imaginations the\nunity and confidence which secures the repose of families, order in the\ndisposition of fortunes, the peaceable education of the succeeding\ngeneration, and which, in giving to children, for an example, a union\nformed by fidelity and duty, implants in their hearts the seeds of the\nmost important virtues; religion has taught us, that the friendships of\na world, in which selfishness reigns, have need of being cemented by\nthat community of interests and honours which marriage only gives us an\nidea of; holy union, alliance without equal, which renders still more\nvaluable all the blessings of life, which seems to augment our hopes,\nand fortify in us the comfortable thoughts and mild confidence which\npiety gives birth to: the engagements entered into between men, which\nbeing, for the most part, sounded on reciprocal services, a time might\ncome, when our weakness would be so great, others having no more\ninterest to associate with us, it might be necessary to find a support\nin that friendship which time has matured, and of which a sentiment of\nduty repairs the breaches, and which acquires a kind of sanctity from\nthe habit and the remembrance of a long and happy union: it is religion\nin, short, which has ordained, that the delicate virtue, the most\nexcellent ornament of a weak and timid sex, should only be subject to\nthe ascendency of the most generous and faithful sentiment.\n\nThese principles, indeed, are not formed for corrupt hearts; but the\nservice which religion renders, the end which it proposes, is to assist\nus to combat our depraved dispositions; it is to point out the errors\nand the snares of vice; it is to preserve, amongst us, the sacred\ndeposit of principles, which are the foundation of public order, and\nstill maintain some light to illuminate the path of wisdom and true\nhappiness.\n\nReligion recals us continually to those universal duties which we\ndescribe under the name of good morals; duties that men would often\ninconsiderately wish to separate from public interest, but which,\nhowever, are bound to it by so many almost imperceptible and secret\nties. Every act of wisdom and virtue is not of immediate importance to\nsociety; but morality must be cultivated by degrees, and fortified by\nhabit, as it is like those delicate plants which we rear with a kind of\nfondness to preserve their beauty; if we make a distinction between\npersonal, domestic, and public manners, in order to neglect, as we find\nconvenient, one part of our duty, we shall lose the charm of it, and\nevery day virtue will appear more difficult.\n\nThere is, I think, a connexion, more or less apparent, between every\nthing good and worthy of esteem; and it seems to me, that this idea has\nsomething amiable, which confusedly satisfies our most generous\ndispositions and most comfortable hopes: and if, to sustain a truth so\nimportant, I was permitted to interrogate the young man, whose virtues\nand talents are the most remarkable in Europe, I should ask him, if he\ndid not experience that his filial tenderness, the regularity of his\ndomestic life, the purity of his thoughts, and all his rare private\nqualities, are not united to the noble sentiments which make him appear\nwith so much splendour as a statesman? But without dwelling on such\ninstances, who has not been sometimes struck with the beauty attached to\nthat simplicity and modesty of manners which we often find in an obscure\nsituation? We then manifestly discover, that there exists a kind of\nagreement and dignity, I could almost say, a kind of grandeur,\nindependent of refined language, polished manners, and all those\nadvantages due to birth, to rank, and fortune.\n\nI have only glanced over the benefits arising from the Christian\nreligion; but I cannot avoid observing, that we owe to it a consoling\nidea, that of the felicity reserved for innocent babes; interesting and\nprecious hope for those tender mothers, who see slip from their embraces\nthe objects of their love, at an age when they have not acquired any\nmerit before the Supreme Being, whom they cannot have any relation with,\nbut through His infinite goodness. I feel that I involuntarily mix with\nthe elogiums of Christianity a sentiment of gratitude for the mild and\npaternal ideas which are disseminated with its instructions; and there\nis something remarkable in those instructions, that they are continually\nanimated by every thing which can captivate our imagination, and\nassociate with our natural inclinations. Sensibility, happiness, and\nhope, are the strongest ties of a heart still pure; and all the emotions\nwhich elevate towards the idea of a God exalt in our minds the doctrine\nof morality, which recals us continually to the sublime perfections of\nHim who was its author.\n\nIn short, we cannot avoid admiring the spirit of moderation, which forms\none of the distinct characteristics of the gospel; we do not always\nfind, it is true, the same spirit in the interpreters of the Christian\ndoctrines; several constrained by a false zeal, and more disposed to\nspeak in the name of a threatening master, than in that of a God, full\nof wisdom and goodness, have frequently exaggerated and multiplied the\nduties of men; and to support their system, they have often obscured the\nnatural sense, or the general import of the precepts contained in the\nscriptures; and sometimes also, collecting a few scattered words, they\nhave formed a body of divinity, foreign in several respects to the\nintention of the apostles and first Christians. Servants always go\nfurther than their masters; and as the first thought does not belong to\nthem, they only act by adding something heterogeneous: the spirit of\nmoderation consists, beside, in a kind of proportion, which mere\nimitators have only an imperfect knowledge of; fortitude is even\nnecessary to impose limits on virtue itself; and to determine the\nprecise and exact measure of the multiplied duties of men requires a\nprofound and sublime intelligence. It was by his sublime precepts that\nthe institutor of a universal morality shewed himself superior to that\nage of ignorance in which extremes reigned; when piety was changed into\nsuperstition, justice into rigour, indulgence into weakness; and when,\nin the exaggeration of every sentiment, a kind of merit was sought for\nincompatible with the immutable laws of wisdom: it was by those sublime\nprecepts, in short, that a legislator rose above transitory opinions to\ncommand all times and ages, and that he appears to have been desirous to\nadapt his instructions, not to the instantaneous humour of a people, but\nto the nature of man.\n\nWe shall, beside, find easily in the gospel several characteristics\nproper, essentially to distinguish it from philosophic doctrines; but in\nan examination so serious and important I avoid every observation which\nmight appear to the greater number a simple research of the\nunderstanding; it is the grand features only which belong to grand\nthings, and any other manner would not agree with a subject so worthy of\nour respect. I must say, however, that when I am left alone to reflect\nwith attention on the different parts of the gospel, I have experienced,\nthat, independent of general ideas and particular precepts which lead us\nevery instant to profound admiration, there reigns, beside, in the whole\nof that sublime morality, a spirit of goodness, of truth, and wisdom, of\nwhich all the characters can only be perceived by our sensibility, by\nthat faculty of our nature which does not separate objects, which does\nnot wait to define; but which penetrates, as by a kind of instinct,\nalmost to that love, the origin of every thing, and that indefinite\nmodel from which every generous intention and grand thought has taken\nits first form.\n\n\n\n\n                              CHAP. XVIII.\n                             _Conclusion._\n\n\nWhat a time have I chosen to entertain the world with morality and\nreligion! and what a theatre is this for such an undertaking! Only to\nconceive it is a great proof of courage; every one is employed about his\nharvest; lives in his affairs; is lost in the present instant, all the\nrest appears chimerical. When I was formerly engrossed by cares for the\npublic welfare, and writing on my favourite subject, I could draw the\nattention of men by a series of reflections on their own fortunes and on\nthe power of their country; it was in the name of their most ardent\npassions that I engaged them to listen to me; but in treating the\nsubject I have now made choice of, it is their natural dispositions, now\nalmost effaced, that I must address: thus I feel the necessity of\nre-animating the sentiments which I wish to direct, and giving birth to\nthe interest I desire to enlighten. And when I fix my attention on the\nactual course of opinions, I fear to have for judges, either men who are\nindifferent to the subject, or who are too severe in their censurers;\nbut the reflections of vanity are trivial to the motives which have\nguided me; and provided any of my thoughts have agreed with the\ninclinations of feeling minds, and added something to their happiness, I\nshall enjoy the sweetest reward. Such a wish I formed, when, with a weak\nhand, I ventured to trace some reflections on the importance of\nreligious opinions.\n\nThe more we know of the world, its phantoms, and vain enchantments, the\nmore do we feel the want of a grand idea to elevate the soul above\ndiscouraging events which continually occur. When we run after honours,\nfame, and gratitude, we find every where illusions and mistakes; and it\nis our lot to experience those disappointments which proceed from the\ninfirmities or the passions of men. If we leave our vessel in the\nharbour, the success of others dazzles and disturbs us; if we spread our\nsails, we are the plaything of the winds: activity in action, ardour,\nand indifference, all have their cares and difficulties; no person is\nsheltered from the caprices of fortune, and when we have reached the\nsummit of our wishes, when we have by chance attained the object of our\nambition, sadness and languor are preparing to frustrate our hopes, and\ndissipate the enchantment: nothing is perfect except for a moment;\nnothing is durable but change; it is necessary then to have interest in\nwith those immutable ideas which are not the work of man, which do not\ndepend on a transient opinion: they are offered to all, and are equally\nuseful in the moment of triumph and the day of defeat; they are, as we\nneed them, our consolation, our encouragement, and our guide. What\nstrength, what splendour, those ideas would soon have, if, considered as\nthe best support of order and morality, men would try to render them\nmore efficacious, in the same manner as we see the citizens of a\npolitical society concur, in proportion to their faculties, to promote\nthe welfare of the state. A new scene would open before us; men of\nlearning, far from following the counsels of vanity, far from searching\nto destroy the most salutary belief of men, would, on the contrary,\nallot for their defence a portion of their noblest powers; we should see\nthe penetrating metaphysician eager to refer to the common treasure of\nour hopes, the light which he perceives through the continuity of his\nmeditations, and the perspicacity of his mind: we should see the\nattentive observer of nature occupied with the same idea, animated by\nthe same interest; we should see him, in the midst of his labours, seize\nwith avidity every thing which could add any support to the first\nprinciple of all religions; we should see him detach from his\ndiscoveries, appropriate, with a kind of love, all that tended to\nstrengthen the happiest persuasion and most sublime of thoughts. The\nprofound moralist, the philosophic legislator, would concur in the same\ndesign; and in such a grand enterprize, men, merely endowed with an\nardent imagination, would be like those wanderers, who, when they return\nhome, talk of some unknown riches. There are ways in the moral, as well\nas in the physical world, which lead to unknown secrets; and the harvest\nwhich may be gathered in the vast empire of nature is as extensive as\ndiversified. How excellent would be the union of every mind towards this\nmagnificent end! In this view, I represent sometimes to myself, with\nrespect, a society of men distinguished by their character and genius,\nonly employed to receive and place in order the ideas proper to augment\nour confidence in the most precious opinion. There are thoughts\nconceived by solitary men which are lost to mankind, because they have\nnot had the talent to connect a system; and if those thoughts were to be\nunited to some other knowledge, if they were to come like a grain of\nsand, to strengthen the banks raised on our shore, the following\ngenerations would transmit a richer heritage. We sometimes register with\npomp a new word, introduced into the language, and men of the most\nexalted genius of the age are called to be present at that ceremony:\nwould it not be a more noble enterprize to examine, to choose, and\nconsecrate the ideas or observations proper to enlighten us in our most\nessential researches? One of those researches would better deserve a\nwreath, than any work of eloquence or literature.\n\nLet us suppose, for a moment, that in the most ancient empire of the\nworld there might have been priests, from time immemorial, who guarded\nthe deposit of all the original ideas which served to support the\nopinion of the existence of a God, and the sentiment of the immortality\nof the soul; and that, from time to time, every new discovery,\ncalculated to increase the confidence due to these most necessary\ntruths, was inscribed in a religious testament, called the book of\nhappiness and hope; how highly should we value it, and how eagerly\ndesire to be acquainted with it; and with what respect should we\napproach the ancient temple, in which those superb archives were\ndeposited. But, on the contrary, could we imagine another retreat, where\nsubtle arguments and artificial discourses were collected, by which some\nendeavour to destroy or shake those holy opinions which unite the\nuniverse to an intelligent thought, to a sublime wisdom; and the fate of\nmen to infinite goodness, who amongst us would wish to enter into that\ndark abode? who would wish to explore that fatal register? Let us learn\nto know our nature better, and through the delirium of our blind\npassions discover its wants: it is a God we feel the want of, a God,\nsuch as religion presents; a God, powerful and good, the first source of\nhappiness, and who only can secure it to the human race: let us open all\nour faculties to that splendid light, that our hearts and minds may\nwelcome it, and find pleasure in widely diffusing it. Let us be\npenetrated in our youth, by the only idea ever necessary to our peace:\nlet us strengthen it when in our full vigour, that it may support us in\nthe decline of life. Ravishing beauties of the universe, what would ye\nbe to us without this thought? Majestic power of the human mind,\nastonishing wonders of the thinking faculty, what could it represent if\nwe separated it from its noble origin? Souls affectionate and\nimpassioned, what would become of you without hope? Pardon, O Master of\nthe world, if not sufficiently sensible of my own weakness, and\nabandoning myself only to the emotions of my heart, I have undertaken to\nspeak to men of Thy existence, Thy grandeur, and Thy goodness! Pardon me\nif, lately agitated by the tumultuous waves of passion, I dare to raise\nmy thoughts to the realms of eternal peace, where Thou more particularly\nexhibits Thy glory and sovereign power. Ah! I know more than ever that\nwe must love Thee, we must serve Thee. The powerful of the earth exalt\nand depress their favourites capriciously; there is no relying on them;\nafter profiting by the talents devoted to them, they forsake the victim,\nor crush him like a reed. There is in the universe but one immutable\njustice, but one perfect goodness and consolatory thought: yet we go\ncontinually towards other coasts, where we call for happiness, but it is\nnot to be found: there are phantoms accustomed to deceive men, who\nanswer when they call: we run towards them, and pursue them, and we\nleave far behind religious opinions, which only can lead us back to\nnature, and elevate us to its author. The blind passions of the world,\nand the devouring desires of fame and fortune, only serve to harden us;\nevery thing is selfish and hostile in them. Ambitious men, who only wish\nfor a vain name, a childish triumph, acknowledge your features in this\nsketch; a single object engrosses you, a single end fixes your views:\nthe heavens may be obscured; the earth covered with darkness; and the\nfuture annihilated before you; and you are satisfied if a weak taper\nstill permits you to discern the homage of those who surround you; but\nhow is it possible to expect thus to pass a whole life? how be able to\nretain that homage which appears so necessary to your dream of\nhappiness? how can you make stationary what so many concur to demand? We\nhave a more rational certainty of happiness, when a sentiment of piety,\nenlightened in its principle and action, softens all our passions, and\nbends them, in some measure, to the laws of our destiny. Piety, such as\nI form an idea of, may be properly represented as a vigilant friend,\ntender and rational. It lets us see the various blessings of life; but\nit recals us to the idea of gratitude, in order to augment our\nhappiness, by referring it to the most generous of all benefactors: it\nallows us to exercise our faculties and talents; but recals us to the\nidea of morality and virtue, in order to assure our steps, and shield us\nfrom regret: it allows us to run the race of glory or ambition; but\nrecals us to the idea of inconstancy and instability, to preserve us\nfrom a fatal intoxication: it is always with us, not to disturb our\nfelicity, not to impose useless privations, but to blend itself with our\nthoughts, and to unite to all our projects those mild and peaceable\nideas which attend wisdom and moderation: in short, in the day of\nadversity, when our strength is broken, in which we have placed our\nconfidence, piety comes to succour and console us; it shows us the\nnothingness of vanity and worldly illusions; it calms the remorse of our\nsouls, by reminding us of a particular providence; it softens our\nregrets, by presenting more worthy hopes than any earthly object can\nafford, in order to engage our interest and fix our attention.\n\nI am not led to these reflections by a temporary melancholy; I should be\nafraid of it, if I had not always had the same thoughts, and if the\nvarious circumstances of a life, often perturbed, had not led me to\nthink of the necessity of attaching myself to some principle independent\nof men and events. Almost entirely alone at this instant, and thrown\ninto solitude by an unforeseen accident, I experience, it is true[10],\nmore than ever, the want of those rational ideas, the representations of\nall that is great, and I approach with renewed interest the truths which\nI always loved; grand and sublime truths, which I have recommended to\nmen at the moment when I see them more than ever inclined to neglect\nthem. How mistaken are they in their calculations, they trust to-day in\nthe strength of their minds, to-morrow they will find their weakness;\nthey imagine, that in turning their views from the termination of life\nthey remove the fatal boundary; but already the hand trembles on the\ndial to give the signal of their last moment. What a dire sacrifice we\nshould make, if we gave up those consoling truths which still present to\nus a future, when all the bustle of life is over! We should again demand\nthem, search for them with the most diligent anxiety, if ever the traces\nof them were unfortunately effaced.\n\nAll these ideas, some may say, are vague, and do not agree with the\nhumour of the age; but at a certain distance from the field of ambition\nand vanity, is there any thing to every one of us more vague than the\npassions of others? Are men employed about our interest? do they dream\nof our happiness? No, they are like ourselves; they seek for precedency;\nnow and then indeed they pronounce the name of public good; but it is\nonly a watch word which they have stolen, to be able to run over our\nranks without danger. Where shall we find then a real tie? Where shall\nwe find a universal rendezvous, if not in those unalterable ideas which\nare so consonant to our nature, which should equally interest us all,\nbeing suited to all without distinction; and which are ready to welcome\nus when we see the folly of earthly pursuits? They may not, indeed,\ngratify the childish wishes of the moment; but they relieve our anxiety\nabout to-morrow, they are allied to objects of meditation which belong\nto our whole life, and above all, they unite us to that spirit which\nconstitutes our true grandeur, to that sublime spirit, a few of whose\nrelations only are yet discovered by us, and the full extent of whose\npower and goodness can be but faintly guessed at by finite beings.\n\n\n                                 FINIS.\n\n\n\n\n    _I was engrossed by the last Cares which the Publication of this\n    Book occasioned, when M. de_ CALONNE\u2019S _Second Memorial made its\n    Appearance. I have read it; and I here publicly engage to answer\n    this new Attack, and fully to support the Credit which is justly\n    due to the Account I presented to the King in 1781._\n\n                                                             NECKER.\n\n-----\n\nFootnote 1:\n\n  Thesis proposed by the French Academy, with a prize, for the best\n  Catechism of Morals, the instructions of which were to be founded on\n  the principles of natural right only.\n\nFootnote 2:\n\n  I should have enlarged this chapter, if I did not intend to make some\n  general reflections on intolerance in another part of this work.\n\nFootnote 3:\n\n  These various reflections are very necessary in the place where I\n  live; since, for a short time, labourers have been permitted to work,\n  at Paris, of a Sunday. We see this publicly done at the new bridge,\n  which is building over the Seine, as if a work of mere convenience was\n  in such haste, that the laws should be dispensed with to accelerate\n  its execution. The labourers, some will say, are glad to gain a day\n  every week. Undoubtedly, because they see only the present instant,\n  they have reason to think so; but it is the duty of government to\n  consider, in a more comprehensive point of view, the interest of the\n  people, of that part of society, which is so blind, or so limited in\n  its calculation; and the church should examine also, if the sudden\n  alteration of a practice so ancient, may not give rise to an idea,\n  that the spirit of religion is grown feeble. For the nations where\n  this spirit is best preserved, have the greatest respect for the\n  Sabbath.\n\nFootnote 4:\n\n  This mass is commonly called a low mass.\n\nFootnote 5:\n\n  Some say, in order to weaken this argument, that we may attribute to\n  the indivisible unit all the qualities of matter, that a round body is\n  really divisible, but that roundness and impenetrability are not. Such\n  an objection is evidently not just. Roundness and impenetrability are\n  only qualities, and these qualities, when merely abstract, are\n  necessarily invariable: thus, it is as impossible to divide it, as it\n  is to multiply and increase it; but my soul, my thoughts, the\n  consciousness that I have of my own existence, forms a particular and\n  personal being; and if it were of the same nature as matter, ought to\n  be equally divisible.\n\nFootnote 6:\n\n  I shall present some reflections on this truth in another Chapter.\n\nFootnote 7:\n\n  Dr. Herschel.\n\nFootnote 8:\n\n  It may be said, that the fifty thousand new stars perceived by Dr.\n  Herschel, being the result of observation directed to the milky-way,\n  we are not to expect to discover as great a number in other parts of\n  the heavens of a like extent; but independent of these stars which Dr.\n  H. clearly distinguished, he imagined that there were twice as many\n  more of which he had only an instantaneous glance. See the\n  Philosophical Transactions of the Royal Society, 1774. Dr. H. has\n  probably, since that time, made new discoveries; but they have not\n  reached me: I find, in the Transactions of the Royal Society, of which\n  he is a member, that he considers the new telescope as being still _in\n  its infancy_; these are his own words.\n\nFootnote 9:\n\n  I think I perceive the traces of these philosophical ideas in the\n  censure Jesus passed upon one of his disciples, who called him _good\n  master_. _Why callest thou me good? there is none good but one._\n\nFootnote 10:\n\n  For I had begun this chapter during my exile.\n\n------------------------------------------------------------------------\n\n\n\n\n                          TRANSCRIBER\u2019S NOTES\n\n\n Page           Changed from                      Changed to\n\n  200 that a moral revolution          that a moral revolution\n      permitted laboures               permitted labourers\n\n \u25cf Standardized spelling.\n \u25cf Retained dialect.\n \u25cf Enclosed italics font in _underscores_.\n \u25cf The caret (^) serves as a superscript indicator, applicable to\n     individual characters (like 2^d) and even entire phrases (like\n     1^{st}).","title":"Of the importance of religious opinions","tradition":"philosophy-ethics","translated_text":null,"word_count":79875}