INTRODUCTION. — CHAP. I. On the Connection of Religious Principles with public Order.
i
My thoughts having been detached
from the study and disquisition of
those truths which have the political good
of the state for their object; and being no
longer obliged to fix any attention on those
particular arrangements of the public interest,
which are necessarily connected with
the operations of government; I found
myself abandoned, as it were, by all the
important concerns of life. Restless and
wandering in this kind of void, my soul,
still active, felt the want of employment.
iiI sometimes formed the design of tracing
my ideas of men and characters; I imagined
that long experience in the midst of
those active scenes which discover the passions,
had taught me to know them well;
but elevating my views, my heart was filled
with a different ambition, and a desire to
reconcile the sublimest thoughts with those
meditations from which I was constrained
to withdraw myself. Guided by this sentiment,
I remarked, with satisfaction, that
there existed a natural connection between
the different truths which contribute to the
happiness of mankind. Our prejudices and
our passions frequently attempt to disunite
them; but to the eye of an attentive observer,
they have all one common origin.
From a similar affinity, the general views
of administration, the spirit of laws, morality,
and religious opinions, are closely
connected; and it is by carefully preserving
an alliance so beautiful, that we raise a
rampart round those works, which are
destined for the prosperity of states and the
tranquillity of nations.
iiiOne could not have taken an active part
in the administration of public affairs; or
made it the object of stedfast attention;
one could not have compared the several
relations of this great whole, with the natural
dispositions of minds and characters;
nor indeed observed men in a perpetual state
of rivalry and competition, without perceiving,
how much the wisest governments
need support from the influence of that invisible
spring which acts in secret on the
consciences of individuals. Thus whilst I
am endeavouring to form some reflections
on the importance of religious opinions, I
am not so far removed from my former habit
of thinking as may, at the first glance,
be imagined; and as in writing on the management
of finances, I omitted no argument
to prove that there is an intimate connexion
between the efficacy of governments,
and the wisdom with which they are conducted;
between the virtue of princes, and
the confidence of their subjects, I think I
am still proceeding in the same train of sentiment
and reflection, when struck with
ivthat spirit of indifference which is so general,
I endeavour to refer the duties of men
to those principles which afford them the
most natural support.
After having studied the interests of a
great nation, and run over the circle of our
political societies, we approach nearer perhaps
to those sublime ideas which bind
the general structure of mankind to that
infinite and Almighty Being, who is the
first grand cause of all, and universal mover
of the universe. In the rapid course of an
active administration, indeed one cannot
indulge similar reflections; but they are
forming and preparing themselves in the
midst of the tumult of business, and the
tranquillity of retirement enables us to
strengthen and extend them.
The calm which succeeds hurry and
confusion, seems the reason most favourable
to meditation; and if any remembrance, or
retrospective views of what is past should
inspire you with a kind of melancholy, you
vwill be involuntarily led back to contemplations
which border on those ideas with
which you have been long conversant. It
is thus the mariner, after having renounced
the dangers of the sea, sometimes seats
himself on the beach, and there, a more
tranquil observer, considers attentively the
boundless ocean, the regular succession of
the waves, the impression of the winds,
the flux and reflux of the tide, and that
magnificent firmament, where, during the
night, among lights innumerable, he distinguishes
the lucid point, which serves as a
guide to the navigators.
It is in vain, in those high stations under
government, to interest yourself about the
happiness of mankind in general; it is in
vain, that, penetrated with a just respect for
the important duties of office, a public
character shall dare to take in hand the
cause of the people, and incessantly apply
himself to the defence of the weak, in opposition
to the attacks of the powerful; he
soon perceives how bounded are his abilities,
viand how limited are those, even of
sovereignty itself. Pity for the distresses of
the individual is checked by the law of
civil rights; benevolence by justice; and
liberty by its own abuses: you perpetually
behold merit struggling with patronage,
honour with fortune, and patriotism with
the interest of the individual. There is no
such thing as real disinterestedness in the
passions, only by fits and starts; unless
great circumstances, or vigorous virtue in
an administration, forcibly renewed the
idea of public good, a general langour
would take place in every mind, and society
itself would appear one confused mass of
opposite interests, which the supreme authority
keeps within bounds for the maintenance
of peace, without any inquietude
about real harmony, or any revolution favourable
to the manners or happiness of
the public.
From the midst of these clashings and
contradictions, continually recurring, a minister,
possessed of a reflecting mind, is incessantly
viicalled back to the idea of imperfection;
he will, undoubtedly, be sorry,
when he sees the great disproportion which
exists between his duty and his powers; and
he will sometimes grieve and be discouraged,
at perceiving the obstacles he must surmount,
and the difficulties he must overcome: he
raises, with labour and care, banks on the
strand, the waters swell, their course becomes
more rapid, and the first precautions
rendered insufficient, oblige him to have recourse
to new works, which, thrown down
in their turn, hurry on a continued succession
of fruitless toil and useless attempts.
What then would be the consequence, if
once the salutary chain of religious sentiments
were broken? What would be the
event, if the action of that powerful spring
were ever entirely destroyed? You would
soon see every part of the social structure
tremble from its foundation, and the hand of
government unable to sustain the vast and
tottering edifice.
viiiThe sovereign, and the laws which are
the interpreters of his wisdom, should have
two grand objects, the maintenance of public
order, and the increase of private happiness.
But to accomplish both, the aid of religion
is absolutely necessary. The sovereign cannot
influence the happiness of individuals,
but by a general solicitude; because the sentiments
which spring from the different
characters of men, or merely from the circumstances
of their respective situations,
are independent of him. Neither can he
ensure the preservation of public order, but
by rules and institutions, which are only applicable
to actions, and to those actions positively
proved. It is necessary also that
the laws should extend their influence to
society in a uniform manner; they should
always have a tendency to diminish the
number of distinctions, shades, and modifications,
that are to be found in the actions
of men; in short, to prevent those abuses
inseparably attendant on arbitrary decisions.
ixSuch are the bounds of sovereign authority,
and such the necessary developement of
its means and powers. Religion, to attain
the same ends, employs other motives essentially
different: first, it is not in a vague
and general manner, that she influences the
happiness of mankind; it is by addressing
all men individually; by penetrating the
heart of every human being, and pouring
into it consolation and hope; by presenting
to the imagination every thing that can insensibly
lead it captive; by taking possession
of men’s sentiments; by occupying their
thoughts; and by availing herself of this
dominion over them, to sustain their courage,
and to afford them comfort under their afflictions
and disappointments. In this manner
religion concurs to maintain good order,
by means absolutely distinct from those of
government; for she not only governs our
actions, but even our sentiments: it is with
the errors and inclinations of each man in
particular, that she seeks to combat. Religion,
in demonstrating the presence of the
Deity, on all occasions, however secret, exercises
xan habitual authority over the consciences
of men; she seems to assist them
under the perturbations of fear, and yet attends
them in their flight; she equally notices
their intentions, projects, and repentance;
and in the method which she takes,
seems as undulating and flexible in all her
motions, as the empire of the law appears
immoveable and constrained.
I should not, at present, extend these reflections
any further; but, if religion, in
some measure, completes the imperfect work
of legislation; if it ought to supply the insufficiency
of those means which government
is under the necessity of adopting,
the subject I propose to treat of seems not
foreign to those objects of meditation, which
the study of administration ought to comprehend.
I well know, that it is impossible to explain
the importance of religion, without,
at the same time, fixing the attention on
the grand truths on which it depends; and
xiyou must also frequently touch on many
subjects that are closely connected with the
deepest metaphysics. We are, at least,
obliged to seek for a defence against those arguments
which sap the foundation of the most
necessary opinions; by which the most impassioned
sentiments have been discouraged;
by which some would reduce man to a vegetable,
make the universe the result of
chance, and morality a state trick.
As soon as I discovered how far my subject
was likely to lead me, I felt myself intimidated;
but I could not allow this to be
a sufficient reason for relinquishing my undertaking;
and since the greater part of the
philosophers of the present age are united
in opposition to those opinions, which the
light of nature seems to have rendered sacred,
it is become indispensably necessary,
to admit to the combat all that offer; nay,
even to select a champion from the main
body of the army, when all the strong ones
are already gone over to the camp of the
enemy.
xiiThere is nothing which seems to engross
the attention of mankind more than metaphysical
enquiries, for it is by thinking
alone they can be fathomed; the light
gained by acquired knowledge is, in some
measure, lost in those obscure depths which
it is necessary to sound, and that immense
space which it is necessary to traverse.
Thus, it were better, perhaps, that each
should enter by chance into these labyrinths,
where the paths, already traced, lead to no
one determined point. I have, besides,
often observed, that, even for those researches,
where the helps of science are most
useful, we ought to set a certain value on
the particular excursion of each genius,
which seeks out for itself a way, and which,
indebted to nature alone for its peculiar formation,
preserves in its progress a character
of its own; it is then, and then only, that
we are not invested with the distinguishing
marks of slavishness of thinking; but when,
by devoting ourselves to reflection, we coincide
with the opinions of others, this conformity
has nothing of servility in it, and
xiiithe marks of imitation are not even recognized.
In vain would man resist the impression
of truth; in vain would he defend himself
by a ridiculous indifference for ancient opinions;
there never could be an idea more
worthy to occupy our meditations, there
never could be an idea, on which we might
be more fully permitted to expatiate, according
to our knowledge and penetration,
than that sublime one of a Supreme Being,
and the relation we bear to him: an idea,
which though far removed from us by its
immensity, every moment strikes the soul
with admiration, and inspires the heart
with hope.
It appears to me, that there are interests
which may be considered as patriotic by intelligent
and feeling beings; and while the
inhabitants of the same country, and the
subjects of the same prince, employ themselves
diligently in one common plan of
defence, the citizens of the world ought to
xivbe incessantly anxious to give every new
and possible support to those exalted opinions
on which the true greatness of their
existence is founded, which preserves the
imagination from that frightful spectacle
of an existence without origin, of action
without liberty, and futurity without
hope. Thus after having, as I think,
proved myself a citizen of France, by my
administration, as well as my writings, I
wish to unite myself to a fraternity still
more extended—that of the whole human
race: it is thus, without dispersing our
sentiments, we may be able nevertheless to
communicate ourselves a great way off, and
enlarge in some measure the limits of our
circle: glory be to our thinking faculties
for it! To that spiritual portion of ourselves
which can take in the past, dart into futurity,
and intimately associate itself with the
destiny of men of all countries, and of all
ages. Without doubt, a veil is thrown
over the greater part of those truths, to
which our curiosity would willingly attain;
but those which a beneficent God has
permitted us to see, are amply sufficient for
xvour guide and instruction; and we cannot,
for a continuance divert our attention without
a species of slothful negligence, and a
total indifference to the superior interests of
man. How little is every thing indeed,
when put in competition with those meditations,
which give to our existence a new
extent, and which, in detaching us from
the dust of the earth, seem to unite our
souls to an infinity of space, and our duration
of a day to the eternity of time!
Above all, it is for you to determine, who
have sensibility—who feel the want of a
Supreme Being, and who seek to find in
him that support so necessary to your weakness,
that defender and that assurance, without
which painful inquietude will be perpetually
tormenting you, and troubling
those soft, tender affections which constitute
your happiness.
However, I must say, there never perhaps
was a period, when it was more essentially
necessary to recal to the minds of
men, the importance of religious sentiments;
xviat present they are but prejudices,
if we may credit the spirit of licentiousness
and levity; the laws dictated by fashion;
and more particularly essential since we have
had philosophical instructions, which excite
the various deviations of vanity, and rally
the wanderings of the imagination.
There is not any form of religion, undoubtedly,
to which ideas more or less
mystical have not been annexed; and of
which the evidence has not been in
proportion to the dictatorial language, and
authoritative tone, which has been made
use of in teaching and defending it; as
such, one might at any given period have
been tempted to dispute about particular
parts of worship, which different nations
have adopted; but it is principally in the
present age, that a certain class of men has
sprung up, distinguished for their wit and
talents; and who, intoxicated by the facility
with which they have gained a victory,
have extended their ambition, and had the
daring courage to attack the reserved body
xviiof that army of which the front ranks had
already given way.
This struggle between persons, one of
whom would imperiously rule by faith
alone, whilst the other thinks he has a right
to reject with disdain every thing that has
not been demonstrated, will always be a
fruitless combat; and only serve to nourish
blind aversion and unjust contempt. Some
seek to wound their adversaries, others to
humble them; in the mean time the good
of mankind, and the true benefit of society,
are absolutely lost sight of; yes, the real
love of useful truths, the impartial search
after them, and the desire of pointing them
out, these sentiments, so amiable and so truly
laudable, seem to be entirely unknown. I
see, permit me to say it, I see at the two extremities
of the arena, the savage inquisitor,
and the inconsiderate philosopher; but neither
the faggots lighted by the one, nor
the derisions of the other, will ever diffuse
any salutary instruction; and in the eyes of
a rational man, the intolerance of monks
xviiiadds no more to the dominion of true religious
sentiments, than the jests of a few
licentious wits have effected a triumph in
favour of philosophy.
It is between these opposite opinions, and
in the midst of wanderings equally dangerous,
that we must attempt to mark out our
way; but as all the opinions of men are
subject to change; at present, when their
minds are more averse to the maxims of
intolerance, it is religion itself that principally
needs support; and such is the daily
diminution of it, that means supplying the
deficiency seem to be already publicly preparing.
For some time past we have heard
of nothing but the necessity of composing
a moral catechism, in which religious principles
should not be introduced, as resources
that are now out of date, and when
it is time they were discarded. Without
doubt these principles might be more effectually
attacked, could they ever be represented
as totally useless for the maintenance
of public order; and if the cold
xixlessons of a political philosophy could be
substituted for those sublime ideas, which,
by the spiritual tie of religion, binds the
heart and mind to the purest morality. Let
us now examine if we should gain any
thing by the exchange; let us see, if the
means they propose to employ can be put
in competition with those which ought to
be made use of; and, if they are more solid,
and more efficacious; let us see, if this
new doctrine, which is recommended, will
produce in the soul the same degree of consolation;
if it is calculated for those hearts
which are possessed of sensibility; and,
above all, let us attentively consider, if it
can be suitable to the measure of intelligence,
and the social situation of the greater
part of mankind. In short, in considering
the various questions, which in any manner,
relate to the important subject we have
undertaken to treat, let us not be afraid to
resist, as well as we can, the foolish ambition
of those, who, availing themselves of
the superiority of their understanding, wish
to deprive man of his dignity, to place him
xxon a level with the dust under his feet, and
make his foresight a punishment:—melancholy
and deplorable destiny! from which,
however, we are permitted to seek to defend
ourselves; cruel and disastrous opinion!
which tears up by the roots every
thing which surrounds it, which relaxes the
most necessary bands, and, in an instant,
destroys the most delightful charm of life.
O thou God unknown!——but whose
beneficent idea has ever filled my soul,
if thou ever throwest a look on those efforts
which man makes to approach thee,
sustain my resolution, enlighten my understanding,
raise my thoughts, and reject not
the desire I have to unite still more, if
possible, the order and happiness of society,
with the intimate and perfect conception of
thy divinity, and the lively idea of thy sublime
existence.
OF THE
IMPORTANCE
OF
RELIGIOUS OPINIONS.
1
We know not distinctly the origin of
most political societies; but as soon
as history exhibits men united in a national
body, we perceive, at the same time, the
establishment of public worship, and the
application of religious sentiments, to the
2maintenance of good order and subordination.
Religious sentiments, by the sanction
of an oath, bind the people to the magistrates,
and the magistrates to their engagements;
they inspire a reverential respect for the
obligations contracted between sovereigns;
and these sentiments, still more authoritative
than discipline, attach the soldier to
his commander; in short, religious opinions,
by their influence on the manners
of individuals, have produced an infinite
number of illustrious actions and
instances of heroical disinterestedness, of
which history has transmitted us the remembrance.
But as we have seen a philosophy
spring up among nations the most
enlightened, anxiously employed in depriving
religion of all that merited respect, dissertations
on times far removed from us,
and the various systems that they would
endeavour violently to associate with religion,
would become an endless source of
controversy. It is then, by reasoning alone,
by that exercise of the mind, which belongs
3equally to all countries and all ages,
that we can support the cause which we
have taken in hand to defend. There is,
perhaps, something weak and servile in our
wishing to draw assistance from ancient
opinions; reason ought not, like vanity, to
adorn herself with old parchments, and the
display of a genealogical tree; more dignified
in her proceeding, and proud of her
immortal nature, she ought to derive every
thing from herself; she should disregard
past times, and be, if I may use the phrase,
the contemporary of all ages.
It was reserved, particularly for some writers
of our age, to attack even the utility of
religion; and to seek to substitute, instead
of its active influence, the inanimate instruction
of a political philosophy. Religion, say
they, is a scaffold fallen into ruins, and it is
high time to give to morality a more solid support.
But what support will that be? we
must, in order to discover, and form a
just idea of it; distinctly consider the different
motives of action on which depend
4the relations that subsist between men; and
it will be necessary to estimate, afterwards,
the kind and degree of assistance which we
may reasonably expect from a like support.
It appears to me, that in renouncing the
efficacious aid of religion, we may easily
form an idea of the means that they will
endeavour to make use of to attach men to
the observance of the rules of morality,
and to restrain the dangerous excesses of
their passions. They would, undoubtedly,
place a proper value on the connection
which subsists between private and general
interest; they would avail themselves of the
authority of laws, and the fear of punishment;
and they would confide still more in
the ascendency of public opinion, and the
ambition, that every one ought to have, of
gaining the esteem and confidence of his
fellow-creatures.
Let us examine separately these different
motives; and first, attentively considering
the union of private with public interest,
5let us see if this union is real, and if we
can deduce from such a principle any moral
instruction truly efficacious.
Society is very far from being a perfect
work; we ought not to consider as an harmonious
composition the different relations
of which we are witnesses, and particularly
the habitual contrast of power and weakness,
of slavery and authority, riches and
poverty, of luxury and misery; so much
inequality; such a motly piece could not
form an edifice respectable for the justness
of its proportions.
Civil and political order is not then excellent
by its nature, and we cannot perceive
its agreement, till we have deeply
studied, and formed to ourselves those reflections
which legislators had to make, and
the difficulties that they had to surmount.
It is then only, with the assistance of the
most attentive meditation, that we discover
how those particular relations, which are
established by social laws, form, nevertheless,
6that system of equilibrium, which is
most proper to bind together an immense
diversity of interests; but a great obstacle
to the influence of political morality is, the
necessity of giving, for the basis of the
love of order, an abstract and complicated
idea. What effect on vulgar minds would
the scientific harmony of the whole have,
opposed daily to the sentiment of injustice
and inequality, which arises from the aspect
of every part of the social constitution,
when we acquire the knowledge of it, in
a manner solitary and circumscribed; and
how limited is the number of those, who
can continually draw together all the scattered
links of this vast chain!
It could not be avoided, in the best regulated
societies, that some should enjoy, without
labour or difficulty, all the conveniencies of
life; and that others, and far the greater
number, should be obliged to earn, by the
sweat of their brow, a subsistence the most
scanty, and a recompense the most confined.
It is not to be prevented, that some will
7find, when oppressed by sickness, all the
assistance which officious tenderness and
skill can afford; whilst others are reduced
to partake, in public hospitals, the bare relief
that humanity has provided for the indigent.
We cannot prevent some from being
in a situation to lavish on their families
all the advantages of a complete education;
whilst others, impatient to free themselves
from a charge so heavy, are constrained to
watch eagerly for the first appearance of natural
strength, to make their children apply
to some profitable labour. In short, we
cannot avoid perpetually contrasting the
splendour of magnificence with the tatters
which misery displays. Such are the effects,
inseparable from the laws, respecting property.
These are truths, the principles of
which I have had occasion to discuss in the
work which I composed on administration
and political œconomy; but I ought to repeat
them here, since they are found closely
connected with other general views. The
eminent power of property is one of the
social institutions, the influence of which
8has the greatest extent; this consideration
was applicable to the commerce of grain;
it ought to be present to the mind, in disquisitions
on the duties of administration;
and it is still more important, when the
question is to be examined, what kind of
moral instruction may be proper for mankind?
In effect, if it appertains to the essence
of the laws of right, constantly to introduce
and maintain an immense disparity in the
distribution of property; were it an essential
part of these laws, to reduce the most numerous
class of citizens, to that which is
simply the most necessary; the inevitable
result of such a constitution would be, to
nourish, amongst men, a sentiment of habitual
envy and jealousy. Vainly would you
demonstrate, that these laws are the only
ones capable of exciting labour, animating
industry, preventing disorder, and opposing
obstacles to arbitrary acts of authority; all
these considerations sufficient, we grant, to
fix the opinion and the will of the legislator,
9would not strike in the same manner
the man thrown on the earth, without property,
without resources, and without
hopes; and he will never render free homage
to the beauty of the whole, when there is
nothing for him but deformity, abjectness,
and contempt.
Men, in most of their political reasonings,
are deceived by resemblances and analogies:
the interest of society is certainly
composed of the interests of all its members;
but it does not follow from this explication,
that there is an immediate and
constant correspondence between the general
and private interest; such an approximation,
could only be applicable to an
imaginary social state; and which we
might represent as divided into many parts,
of which the rich would be the head,
and the poor the feet and hands: but
political society is not one and the same
body, except under certain relations, whilst,
relatively to other interests, it partakes in
as many ramifications of them as there are
individuals.
10Those considerations, to which we annex
an idea of general interest, would be very
often susceptible of numberless observations;
but the principles, we are accustomed to
receive and transmit, in their most common
acceptation; and we discover not the mixt
ideas which compose them, but at the moment
when we analyze the principles, in
order to draw consequences from them, in
like manner as we perceive not the variety
of colours in a ray of light, till the moment
we divide them by means of a prism.
The formation of social laws, with reason,
ought to appear one of our most admirable
conceptions; but this system is not
so united in all its parts, that a striking disorder
would always be the necessary effect
of some irregular movement: thus the man,
who violates the laws, does not quickly
discover the relation of his actions with the
interest of society; but at the instant enjoys,
or thinks to joy, the fruit of his usurpations.
11Should a theatre be on fire, it is certainly
the interest of the assembly that every one
go out with order; but if the people, most
distant from the entrance, believed they
should be able to escape sooner from the
danger, by forcing their way through the
crowd which surrounds them, they would
assuredly determine on this violence, unless
a coercive power prevented them; yet the
common utility of restricting ourselves to
order in such circumstances, would appear
an idea more simple, and more distinct, than
is the universal importance of maintaining
civil order in society.
The only natural defence of this order,
is government; its function obliges it ever
to consider the whole; but the need which
it has of power to carry its decrees into
execution, proves evidently, that it is the
adversary of many, even when acting in the
name of all.
We are then under a great illusion, if we
hope to be able to found morality on the
12connection of private interest with that of
the public; and if we imagine, that the
empire of social laws can be separated from
the support of religion. The authority of
these laws has nothing decisive for those
who have not assisted to establish them; and
were we to give to the hereditary distinctions
of property an origin the most remote, it is
no less true, on this account that the poor
succeeding inhabitants of the earth, struck
with the unequal division of its rich domains,
and not perceiving the limits and
lines of separation traced by nature, would
have some right to say; these compacts, these
partitions, this diversity of lots, which procures
to some abundance and repose; to
others, poverty and labour; all this legislation,
in short, is only advantageous to a
small number of privileged men; and we
will not subscribe to it, unless compelled
by the fear of personal danger. What are
then, they would add, these ideas of right
and wrong, with which we are entertained?
What are these dissertations on the necessity
of adopting some order in society, and of
13observing rules? Our mind bends not to
those principles, which, general in theory,
become particular in practice. We find
some satisfaction and compensation, when
the idea of virtue, of submission, and of sacrifice,
are united to religious sentiments;
when we believe we shall render an account
of our actions to a Supreme Being, whose
laws and will we adore, and from whom
we have received every thing, and whose
approbation presents itself to our eyes, as a
motive of emulation, and an object of recompense:
but if the contracted bounds of
life limit the narrow circle in which all our
interest ought to confine itself, where all
our speculations and our hopes terminate,
what respect owe we then to those whom
nature has formed our equals? To those
men sprung from lifeless clay, to return to
it again with us, and to be lost for ever in
the same dust? They have only invented
these laws of justice, to be more tranquil
usurpers. Let them descend from their
exalted rank, that they may be put on our
level, or, at least, present us with a partition
14less unequal, and we shall then be able
to conceive, that the observance of the laws
of right is of importance to us; till then,
we shall have just motives for being the
enemies of civil order, which we find so
disadvantageous; and we do not comprehend
how, in the midst of so many gratifications
which excite our envy, it is, in
the name of our own interest, that we ought
to renounce them.
Such is the secret language which men,
overwhelmed with the distress of their
situation, would not fail to use; or those
who, merely in a state of habitual inferiority,
found themselves continually hurt by the
splendid sight of luxury and magnificence.
It would not be an easy task to combat
these sentiments, by endeavouring to paint
forcibly the vanity of pleasure in general, and
the illusion of most of those objects which
captivate our ambition, and the apathy
which follows in their train. These reflections,
without doubt, have their weight
15and efficacy; but if we attentively consider
the subject, every thing that deserves the
name of consolation in this world, cannot
be addressed with any advantage; but to
minds prepared for mild sentiments, by an
idea of religion and of piety, more or less
distinct; we cannot, in the same manner,
relieve the barren and ferocious despondency
of an unhappy and envious man, who has
thrown far behind him all hope. Concentred
in the bare interests of a life, which is
for him eternity, and the universe itself;
it is the passion of the moment which enslaves
him, and nothing can disengage him
from it; he has not the means to catch
any vague idea, nor of being content; and
as even reason has need, every instant, of
the aid of the imagination, he cannot be
encouraged, either by the discourse of his
friends, or his own reflections.
Besides, if we can maintain, in general,
that the allotments of happiness and misery
are more equal than we imagine; if we
can reasonably advance, that labour is preferable
16to idleness; if we can say, with
truth, that embarrassments and inquietudes
often accompany wealth, and that
contentment of mind appears to be the
portion of the middle state of life; we
ought to acknowledge, at the same time,
that these axioms are only perfectly just in
the eyes of the moralist, who considers
man in a comprehensive point of view, and
who makes his calculation upon a whole
life: but, in the recurrence of our daily desires
and hopes, it is impossible to excite to
labour by the expectation of fortune, and
detract, at the same time, this fortune, in
decrying the pleasures and conveniences that
it procures. These subtle ideas, without
excepting those which may be defended,
can never be applicable to real circumstances;
and if we sometimes use with success
such kind of reflections to alleviate unavailing
sorrow and regret, it is when we
have only shadows to cope with.
In short, when we have reduced to precept,
all the well known reflections, on the
17apparent, but delusive advantages of rank
and fortune, we cannot prevent uncultivated
minds from being continually
struck with the extreme inequality of
the different contracts which the rich
make with the poor; it might be said,
in those moments, that one portion of
mankind was formed only for the convenience
of another; the poor man sacrifices
his time and his strength to multiply
round the rich gratifications of every
kind; and he, when he gives in exchange
the most scanty subsistence, does not deprive
himself of any thing; since the extent
of his physical wants is bounded by
the laws of nature: equality then is only
re-established by the lassitude and apathy
which the enjoyment even of pleasure produces.
But these disgusts compose the back
ground in the picture of life; the people
perceive them not; and as they have only
been acquainted with want, they cannot
form any idea of the langour attendant on
satiety.
18Will any one imprudently say, that if
the distinctions of property are an obstacle
to the establishment of a political system of
morality, we ought, therefore, to labour
to destroy them? But if in past ages, when
the different degrees of talents and knowledge
were not so unequal, men were
not able to preserve a community of possessions,
can you imagine, that these primitive
relations could be re-established at
a time when the superiority of rank and
power is enforced by the immoveable
strength of disciplined armies?
Besides, when even in the composition of
an ideal world, we should have introduced
the most exact division of the various possessions
esteemed by men, it would still be
necessary, to preserve a system of real equality,
that every one should execute faithfully
the duties imposed on him by universal
morality; since this is incumbent
on every individual, for the sacrifice that
all the members of society have made;
which society ought to recompense every
19citizen in particular, for the restriction to
which he submits himself.
It is essential to observe still further, that
it is not only personal interest, when clearly
understood, which ought to be annexed
to the idea of public order; it is the
same interest when led astray by the passions,
then a mere guide is no longer sufficient;
a yoke must be imposed; a check
always acting, which must be used absolutely.
Nothing can be more chimerical
than to pretend to restrain a man, hurried
on by an impetuous imagination, by endeavouring
to recal to his remembrance some
principles and instructions, which, in the
terms of an academic thesis[1], ought to be
the result of analysis, of methodizing, of the
art of dividing, of developing, and circumscribing
ideas.
20It would be, at present, a hardy enterprize,
to attempt to conduct men by reason
alone, since the first thing that reason discovers
is its own weakness; but when we
want to rest on maxims which admit of
controversy; when we wish to oppose to
the strong motive of personal interest, a
moral consideration which cannot act but
with the concurrence of profound reflection;
we recollect the doctrine of the first
œconomists, who, in establishing the extravagant
principles respecting an exclusive
right of exporting or monopolizing grain,
put off the care of preventing popular
commotions till they should happen.
It appears to me, that false reasoning,
on the union of private with public interest,
arises from applying to the present
state of society, the principles which have
served as the base for their formation; this
very natural confusion is one grand source
of error. Let us try to render clear a proposition,
which, at first, appears difficult
to comprehend; and in this light we will
21suppose, for a moment the future generation
assembled in idea, in an imaginary
world, and ignorant before they inhabit the
earth, who those individuals are that shall
be born of parents loaded with the gifts of
fortune, and those who are beset with misery
from their cradle. They are instructed
in the principles of civil rights,
and the convenience of the laws of order,
has been represented to them, and a sketch
is drawn of the disorder, which would be
the inevitable consequence of a continual
variation in the division of property; then
all those who are to compose the new
generation, equally uncertain of the lot that
the chance of birth reserves for them, subscribe
unanimously to those events which
await them; and at the very moment in
which the relations of society exist only in
speculation, it might be truly said, that the
personal interest is lost in the public; but
this identity ceases, when each, arrived on
the earth, has taken possession of his lot;
it is then no longer possible, that the various
personal interests should concur to the
22maintenance of these prodigious gradations
of rank and fortune, which are derived
from the chance of birth; and those to
whom cares and wants have fallen, will
not be resigned to the inferiority of their
condition, but by a grand religious principle
alone, which can make them perceive
an eternal justice, and place them in
imagination before time, and before the
laws.
There is nothing so easy, as the establishment
of conventions, and making
rules to be observed, till the moment of
the drawing of a lottery; every one then,
at the same point of view, finds all good,
all just, and well contrived, and peace
reigns by common agreement; but as soon
as the blanks and prizes are known, the
mind changes, the temper grows sour; and
without the check of authority, it would
become unmanageable, envious, quarrelsome,
and sometimes unjust and violent.
23We see, however, the consequence to be
drawn from the preceding reflections; that
political societies in contemplation, and in
reality, present to our observation two different
periods; and as these periods are not
separated by any apparent limits, they are
almost always confounded in the mind of
the political moralist. He who believes in
the union of private interest with that of
the public, and who celebrates this harmony,
has only considered society in its general
and primitive plan; he who thinks,
on the contrary, that the whole is wrong
and discordant, because there is a great difference
of power and fortune, has considered
it only under its actual vicissitudes. Both
these mistakes have received a sanction from
celebrated writers. The man hurried away
by a lively imagination, and strongly impressed
by present objects, has been struck
by the inequality of conditions; and the
philosopher, who, transported by his abstractions
beyond the circle of human society,
has only perceived those relations and
principles which led men to form the first
24institution of civil laws. Thus, every where
we see, that most disputes relate to mere
difference of positions, and to the various
points of view in which the same subject is
considered; there are so many stations in
the moral world, that, according to that
which we choose, the picture changes entirely.
Hitherto we have endeavoured to understand
the effect which we might expect
from a system of morality, by applying this
kind of instruction only to private interest,
when most clearly ascertained. It remains
now to show, that every species of education,
which demands time and reflection,
cannot belong, in any manner, to the class
of men most numerous; and to be sensible
of this truth, it is sufficient to turn our attention
on the social state of those who are
destitute of property, and talents which
might supply its place; obliged to have recourse
to hard labour, where nothing is required
but to employ their bodily strength,
their concurrence, and the power of riches
25reduce the wages of this numerous class
to what is absolutely necessary; they cannot
without difficulty support their children,
and they may well be impatient of
qualifying them for useful occupations to
relieve themselves; and this prevents their
being sent to public schools, except during
their infancy: thus, ignorance and poverty
are in the midst of our societies, and the hereditary
lot of the greater part of the citizens;
there is only to be found an alleviation
of this general law, in those countries
where the constitution of the government
encourages the high price of labour, and
gives the poor some means of resisting the
despotism of fortune. However, if such is
the inevitable effect of our civil and political
legislation, how shall we be able to bind
men without distinction, to the maintenance
of public order, by any instruction, I do not
say complicated, but to which the exercise
of long reasoning forms only a necessary introduction?
It would not be sufficient to
endow institutions; it would be still more
necessary to pay the scholars for their time;
26since, for the lower class, time is, even very
early in life, their only means of subsistence.
Nevertheless, morality is not, like other
human sciences, a knowledge, that we may
be at liberty to acquire at our leisure; the
quickest instruction is still too slow, since
man has a natural power of doing evil before
his mind is in a state to apply to reflection,
and connect the most simple ideas.
It is not then a political catechism
which would be proper for the instruction
of the people; it is not a course of precepts
founded on the union of public and
private interest, which can suit with the
measure of their understanding; when a
doctrine of that kind would appear as just
as it seems to me liable to be disputed, they
will never be able to render the principles
of it distinct enough, to apply them to the
purposes of instructing those whose education
continues for so short a time. Morality,
founded on religion, by its active influence,
27is precisely adapted to the particular
situation of the greater number of men;
and this agreement is so perfect, that it seems
one of the remarkable features of universal
harmony. Religion alone has power to
persuade with celerity, because it excites
passion, whilst it informs the understanding,
because it alone has the means of
rendering obvious what it recommends;
because it speaks in the name of God, and
it is easy to inspire respect for him, whose
power is every where evident to the eyes of
the simple and skilful, to the eyes of children,
and men advanced to maturity.
In order to attack this truth, let it not
be said, that the idea of a God is of all
others the most incomprehensible; and if
it is possible to derive useful instruction
from so metaphysical a principle, we ought
to expect more good from precepts which
depend on the common relations of life.
Such an objection is a mere subtilty; the
distinct knowledge of the essence of a God,
the creator of the world, is, undoubtedly
28above the comprehension of men of every
age, and all faculties; but it is not the
same with the vague idea of a heavenly
power, who punishes and who rewards;
parental authority, and the helplessness of
infancy, prepare us early for ideas of obedience
and command; and the world is
such a stupendous wonder, a theatre of
such continual prodigies, that it is easy to
annex, at an early period, hope and fear to
the idea of a Supreme Being. Thus, the
infinity of a God, creator and director of
the universe, is so far from having power to
divert our respect and adoration, that even
the clouds with which he invelopes himself,
lend a new force to religious sentiments.
A man often remains uninterested amidst:
the discoveries of his reason; but it is always
easy to move him, whenever we address ourselves
to his imagination; for this faculty
of our mind excites us continually to action,
by presenting to our eyes a great space, and
by keeping us always at a certain distance
from the object we have in view. Man is
so disposed to wonder at a power, of which
29he is ignorant of the springs; this sentiment
is so natural to him, that what we ought to
guard against the most in his education, is
the inconsiderate insinuation of various terrors,
of which he is susceptible. Thus, not
only the true idea of the existence of an
All-powerful God, but mere credulous faith
in superstitious opinions, will always have
more power over the common class of
men, than abstract precepts, or general considerations.
I know not even, if it might
not be said, with truth, that the future of
this short life, when we contemplate it, is
further from us than the distant perspective
offered to the mind by religion; because
our imagination is less restrained, and the
minutest description of reason can never
equal in power, the lively and impulsive
ardour of the affections of our souls.
I resume the series of my reflections, and set
down here an important observation: which
is, that the more the increase of taxes keeps
the people in despondency and misery, the
30more indispensable is it to give them a religious
education; for it is in the irritation of
wretchedness, that we all have need of a
powerful restraint and of daily consolations.
The successive abuse of strength and authority,
in overturning all the relations which
originally existed between men, have raised,
in the midst of them, an edifice so artificial,
and in which there reigns so much disproportion,
that the idea of a God is become
more necessary than ever, to serve as a leveller
of this confused assemblage of disparities;
and if we can ever imagine, that a people
should exist, subject only to the laws of
a political morality, we should represent,
without doubt, a rising nation, which
would be restrained by the vigour of patriotism
in its prime; a nation which would
occupy a country where riches had not had
time to accumulate; where the distance of
the habitations from each other contributed
to the maintenance of domestic manners;
where agriculture, that simple and peaceful
occupation, would be the favourite employment;
where the work of the hands
31would obtain a recompense proportioned to
the scarcity of the workmen, and the extensive
usefulness of the labour; we should represent,
in short, a nation where the laws
and the form of government would favour,
during a long time, equality of rank and
property. But in our ancient kingdoms in
Europe, where the growth of riches continually
augments the difference of fortunes
and the distance of conditions;—in our
old political bodies, where we are crowded
together, and where misery and magnificence
are ever mingled, it must be a morality,
fortified by religion, that shall restrain these
numerous spectators of so many possessions
and objects of envy, and who, placed so
near every thing which they call happiness,
can yet never aspire to it.
It may be asked, perhaps, in consequence
of these reflections, whether religion, which
strengthens every tie, and fortifies every obligation,
is not favourable to tyranny? Such
a conclusion would be unreasonable; but
religion, which affords comfort under every
32affliction, would necessarily sooth also the
ills which arise from despotism; however,
it is neither the origin, nor the support of
it: religion, well understood, would not
lend its support but to order and justice;
and the instructions of political morality
proposes to itself the same end. Thus, in
both plans of education, the rights of the
sovereign, as well as those of the citizens,
constitute simply one of the elementary
parts of the general system of our duties.
I shall only observe, that the insufficiency
of political morality would appear still more
obvious, in a country where the nation, subject
to the authority of an absolute prince,
would have no share in the government; for
personal interest no longer having an habitual
communication with the general interest,
there would be just ground to fear, that in
wishing to hold out the union of these two
interests as the essential motive of virtue, the
greater number would retain only this
idea, that personality was admitted for
the first principle; and consequently every
33one ought to reserve to himself the right of
judging of the times and circumstances when
self-love and patriotism are to be separated, or
united. And how many errors would not
this produce? Public good, like all abstract
ideas, has not a precise definition; it is
for the greater part of mankind a sea without
bounds, and it requires not much address
or shrewdness to confound all our analogies.
We may know how we would
form, according to our taste, the alliance of
all the moral ideas, in considering with what
facility men know how to reconcile with
one quality the habitual infirmities of their
character; he who wounds without discretion,
prides himself in his frankness and
courage; he who is cowardly and timid in
his sentiments and in his words, boasts of
his caution and circumspection; and by a
new refinement of which I have seen singular
examples, he who asks of the sovereign
pecuniary favours, endeavours to persuade
him that he is impelled to this solicitation,
only by a noble love of honourable
distinction; every one is ingenious in fixing
34the point of union which connects his passions
with some virtue: would they then be
less expert at finding some conformity between
their own interest and that of the
public?
I cannot, I avow, without disgust, and
even horror, conceive the absurd notion of
a political society, destitute of that governing
motive afforded by religion, and restrained
only by a pretended connexion of their private
interest with the general. What circumscribed
judges! What a multiplicity of opinions,
sentiments, and wills! All would be
in confusion, if we left to men the liberty
of drawing their own conclusions: they
must absolutely have a simple idea to regulate
their conduct, especially when the application
of this principle may be infinitely
diversified. God in delivering his laws on
Mount Sinai, had need but to say, Thou
shalt not steal; and with the awful idea of
that God, whom every thing recals to our
minds, whom every thing impresses on the
human heart, this short commandment
35preserves, at all times, a sufficient authority;
but when political philosophy says,
Thou shalt not steal, it would be necessary
to add to this precept a train of reasoning,
on the laws of right, on the inequality of
conditions, and on the various social relations;
in order to persuade us that it comprehends
every motive, that it answers all objections,
and resists all attacks. It is necessary, further,
that by the lessons of this philosophy the
most uncultivated minds should be qualified
to follow the different ramifications
which unite, disunite, and reunite afresh
the personal to the public interest: what
an enterprize! It is, perhaps, like wishing
to employ a course of anatomy, in order to
direct a child in the choice of such aliments
as are proper for it, instead of beginning
to conduct it by the counsels and
the authority of its mother.
The same remarks are applicable to all
the virtues, of which the observance is essential
to public order: what method would
36plain reasoning take to persuade a single
man, that he ought not to deprive a husband
of the affections of his wife? Where
would you assign him a distinct recompense
for the sacrifice of his passion? What
windings should we not be obliged to run
over, to demonstrate to an ambitious man,
that he ought not, in secret, to calumniate
his rival; to the solitary miser, armed with
indifference, that he ought not to remove
himself from every occasion of doing good;
to a disposition ardent and revengeful, that
he ought not to obey those urgent impulses
which hurry him away; to a man in
want, that he ought not to have recourse to
falsehood to procure attention, or to deceive
in any other manner? And how
many other positions would offer the same
difficulties, and still greater? Abstract ideas,
the best arranged, can never conquer us
but by long arguments, since the peculiar
nature of these ideas is to disengage our
reasoning from the feelings, and consequently
from striking and sudden impressions;
besides, political morality, like every
37thing which the mind only produces,
would be always for us merely an opinion;
an opinion from which we should have a
right to appeal, at any time, to the tribunal
of our reason. The lessons of men
are nothing but representations of their
judgment; and the sentiments of some
draw not the will of others. There is not
any principle of morality, which, under
forms absolutely human, would not be
susceptible of exceptions, or of some modification;
and there is nothing so compounded
as the idea of the connexion of
virtue with happiness: in short, while our
understanding has a difficulty in comprehending
and clearly distinguishing that
union, the objects of our passions are every
where apparent, and all our senses are preengaged
by them. The miser beholds gold
and silver; the ambitious man, those honours
which are conferred on others; the
debauchee, the objects of his luxury; virtue
has nothing left but reasoning; and is
then in want of being sustained by religious
38sentiments, and by the enlivening hopes
which accompany them.
Thus, in a government where you
would wish to substitute political morality
for a religious education, it would become,
perhaps, indispensable to guard men from
receiving any ideas calculated to exalt their
minds; it would be necessary to divert
them from the different competitions which
excite self-love and ambition; they must
withdraw themselves from the habitual society
of women; and it would be still more
incumbent on them to abolish the use of
money, that attracting and confused image
of all kinds of gratifications: in short, in
taking from men their religious hopes, and
depriving them thus of the encouragements
to virtue which the imagination gives birth
to, every exertion must be tried to prevent
this unruly imagination from seconding
vice, and all the passions contrary to public
order: it was because Telemachus was accompanied
by a Divinity, that he could,
without danger, visit the sumptuous court
39of Sesostris, and the enchanting abodes of
Eucharis and Calypso.
It is indeed an age the most pleasant, as
well as the safest of our life, which we
cannot pass without a guide; we must then,
in order to pass with security through the
tempestuous days of youth, have principles
which command us, and not reflections to
counsel us; these have not any power but
in proportion to the vigour of the mind,
and the mind is only formed by experience
and a long conflict of opinions.
Religious instructions have the peculiar
advantage of seizing the imagination, and of
interesting our sensibility, those two brilliant
faculties of our early years: thus, then
even supposing that we could establish a
course of political morality, sufficiently
propped by reasoning, for defending from
vice men enlightened by maturity, I should
still say, that a similar philosophy would not
be suitable to youth, and that this armour is
too heavy for them.
40In short, the lessons of human wisdom,
which cannot govern us during the ardour
of our passions, are equally insufficient, when
our strength being broken by disease, we are
no longer in a state to comprehend a variety
of relations; instead of which, such is the
pleasing emotions that accompany the language
of religion, that in the successive decline
of our faculties, this language still
keeps pace with them.
Nevertheless, if we were ever to be persuaded,
that there was on earth a more certain
encouragement to virtue than religion,
its powers would be immediately weakened;
it would not be half so interesting, nor
could reign when divided; if its sentiments
did not overflow, as we may say, the human
heart, all its influence would vanish.
Religious instruction, in assembling all
the means proper to excite men to virtue,
neglects not, it is true, to point out the relations,
which exist between the observance
of the laws of morality and the happiness of
41life; but it is as an accessary motive, that
these considerations are presented; and it is
not necessary to support them by the same
proofs as a fundamental principle requires.
Also, when people are taught early that
vices and crimes lead to misery on earth,
these doctrines make not a lasting impression
on them, but in proportion as we succeed
at the same time, in convincing them of the
constant influence of a Providence over all
the events of this world.
One important reason still exempts religious
professors, from attaching themselves
to demonstrate, that the principal advantages
which excite the envy of men, are
an absolute consequence of the observance
of the laws of order: it is, that sacrifices,
supported by an idea of duty, are
changed into real satisfactions; and the
sentiments, which the virtuous enjoy from
piety, compose an essential part of their
happiness. But what consolation can a
man have by way of return; what
secret approbation can we grant him,
42when we know not any other authority
than that of political morality, and when
virtue is nothing but an opposition between
private and public interest?
Religion certainly proposes to man his
own happiness, as an object and ultimate
end; but as this happiness is placed at a
distance, religion conducts us to it by
wholesome restrictions and temporary sacrifices;
it regards only the sublimest part of
us, that which disunites us from the present
moment, in order to connect us with
futurity; it offers us hopes, which withdraw
us from worldly interest, so far as is
necessary to prevent us from being immoderately
devoted to the disorderly impressions
of our senses, and the tyranny of our
passions. Irreligion, on the contrary, whose
lessons teach us, that we are only masters
of the present moment, concentres us more
and more within ourselves, and there is
nothing beautiful or good in this condition;
for grandeur, of every kind, relates
to the extent of those relations which we
43comprehend; and, in a like acceptation,
our sentiments submit to the same laws.
Those who represent the obligations of
religion as indifferent, assure us, that we
may repose safely the maintenance of morality
on some general sentiments, which we
have adopted; but do not consider that these
sentiments derive their origin, and almost all
their force, from that spirit of religion which
they wish to weaken. Yes, even humanity,
this emotion of a noble soul, is animated
and fortified by the idea of a Supreme Being;
the alliance between men holds but
feebly from the conformity of their organization;
nor can it be attributed to the similitude
of their passions, that continual source
of so much hatred; it depends essentially on
our connexion with the same author, the
same superintendant, the same judge; it is
founded on the equality of our right to the
same hopes, and on that train of duties inculcated
by education, and rendered respectable
by the habitual dominion of religious
44opinions. Alas! it is a melancholy
avowal, that men have so many infirmities,
so much injustice, selfishness, and ingratitude,
at least, in the eyes of those who
have observed them collectively, that we
never can keep them in harmony by the mere
lessons of wisdom: it is not always because
they are amiable that we love them;
it is sometimes, and very often indeed, because
we ought to love them, that we find them
amiable. Yes, goodness and forbearance, these
qualities the most simple, still require to be
compared, from time to time, with an idea
general and predominate, the band of all our
virtues. The passions of others wound us
in so many ways, and there is often so
much depth and energy in our self-love,
that we have need of some succour to be
constantly generous in our sentiments, and
to be really interested for all our fellow-creatures,
in the midst of whom we are placed.
In short, not to dissemble, if a man once
came to consider himself as a being that is
the child of chance, or of blind necessity,
and tending only to the dust from whence
45he sprung, and to which he must return,
he would despise himself; and far from
seeking to rise to noble and virtuous reflections,
he would consider this species of
ambition as a fantastic idea, which consumes
in a vain and illusory manner, a part of those
fleeting minutes which he has to pass on
earth; and all his attention being fixed on
the shortness of life, and on the eternal
silence which must close the scene, he would
only think how to devour this reign of a
moment.
How dangerous then would it be, on
this supposition, to show to men the extremity
of the chain which unites them
together! It is in worldly affairs this
knowledge of having received the last favour,
which renders them ungrateful towards
those from whom they no longer expect
any thing; and the same sentiment
would weaken the power of morality if our
lease was manifestly only for this world. It
is then religion which ought to strengthen
those ties, and defend the entire system of
our duty against the stratagems of reasoning
46and the artifices of our minds; it is necessary,
in order to oblige all men, to consider
with respect the laws of morality, to teach
them early that the social virtues are an
homage rendered to the perfections and to
the beneficent intentions of the Sovereign
Author of Nature, of that Infinite Being
who is pleased with the preservation of order,
and the private sacrifices which the accomplishment
of this grand design requires.
And when I see modern philosophers tracing,
with an able hand, the general plan of
our duties; when I see them fix with judgment
the reciprocal obligations of citizens,
and giving, at last, for the basis to this legislation,
personal interest and the love of
praise: I recollect the system of those Indian
philosophers, who, after having studied
the revolutions of the heavenly bodies, being
perplexed to determine the power which
sustained the vaulted firmament, thought
they had freed it from difficulty, by placing
the universe on the back of an elephant, and
this elephant on a tortoise. We shall imitate
these philosophers, and, like them, shall
never proceed but by degradation, whenever,
47by endeavouring to form a chain of
duties and moral principles, we do not place
the last link above worldly considerations,
and beyond the limits of our social conventions.
CHAP. II. The same Subject continued. A Parallel between the Influence of Religious Principles, and of Laws and Opinions.
48
After having examined, as I have
just done, in the preceding chapter,
if it were possible to found morality on the
connexion of private with public interest,
it remains for me to consider, if the punishments
inflicted by the sovereign, if the
sceptre, which public opinion sways, have
sufficient power to restrain men, and bind
them to the observance of their duty.
It is necessary to proceed by common
ideas, in order to advance one degree in the
research of truth: thus I ought at first, in
this place, to recollect, that the penal laws
cannot be applied but to offences known
and proved; this consideration contracts
their power within a very narrow circle;
49however, crimes secretly committed, are
not the only ones which are beyond the
cognizance of laws; we must place in this
rank every reprehensible action, which, for
want of a distinct character, can never be
pointed out; the number of them is prodigious:
the rigour of parents, ingratitude
of children, the inhumanity of abandoning
their nurses, treachery in friendship, the
violation of domestic comfort, disunion
sown in the bosoms of families, levity of
principles in every social connexion, perfidious
counsels, artful and slanderous insinuations,
rigorous exercise of authority,
favour and partiality of judges, their inattention,
their idleness and severity, endeavours
to obtain places of importance,
with a consciousness of incapacity, corrupt
flatteries addressed to sovereigns or
ministers, statesmen indifferent to public
good, their vile and pernicious jealousies,
and their political dissensions, excited in
order to render themselves necessary, wars
instigated by ambition, intolerance under
the cover of zeal; in short, many other fatal
50evils which the laws cannot either
follow or describe, and which often do
much mischief, before they give any opportunity
for public censure. We ought
not even to desire that this censure pass
certain bounds, because authority, applied
to obscure faults, or those susceptible
of various interpretations, easily degenerates
into tyranny; and as there is nothing so
transitory as thought, nothing so secret as
our sentiments; none but an invisible power,
whose authority seems to participate of
the divine, has a right to enter into the secrets
of our hearts.
It is then only, at the tribunal of his
own conscience, that a man can be interrogated
about a number of actions and intentions
which escape the inspection of government.
Let us beware of overturning
the authority of a judge so active and enlightened;
let us beware of weakening it
voluntarily, and let us not be so imprudent
as to repose only on social discipline. I
will even venture to say, that the power of
51conscience is perhaps still more necessary in
the age we live in, than in any of the preceding;
though society no longer presents
us with a view of those vices and crimes
which shock us by their deformity; yet
licentiousness of morals, and refinement of
manners, have almost imperceptibly blended
good and evil, vice and decency, falsehood
and truth, selfishness and magnanimity; it
is more important then ever, to oppose to
this secret depravity, an interior authority,
which pries into the mysterious windings
of disguise, and whose action may be as
penetrating as our dissimulation seems artful
and well contrived.
It is, undoubtedly, because a similar authority
appears absolutely necessary to the
maintenance of public order, that several
philosophic writers have endeavoured to introduce
it as a principle of atheism. In
such a system the whole is fictitious; they
speak of our blushing at the recollection of
our follies, of dreading our own secret reproaches,
and of being afraid of the condemnation,
52which, in the calm of reflection,
we shall pronounce against ourselves; but
these sentiments, which have so much force
with the idea of a God, they know not what
to unite them with, when they would give only
for a guide the most active personal interest,
and when all the grand communications,
established between men by religious opinions,
are absolutely broken; conscience is
then an expression void of meaning, a useless
word in the language. We may still
feel remorse, that is to say, regret at being
deceived in the pursuits of ambition, in promoting
our interest, in the choice of means
which we employ to obtain the respect and
praise of others; in short, in the various
calculations of our worldly advantage: but
such remorse is only an exaltation of our
self-love; we deify, in some measure, our
judgment and understanding, and we make
at last all our actions appear before these
false idols, to reproach us with our errors
and weaknesses; we thus voluntarily become
our own tormentors; but when this perfection
is too importunate, we have it in our
53power to command our tyrants to use more
indulgence towards us. It is not the same
with the reproaches of conscience; the sentiments
which produce them have nothing
compounded or artificial in them, we cannot
corrupt our judge, nor enter into a compromise
with him; that which seduces men
never deceives him, and amidst the giddiness
of prosperity, in the intoxication of the
greatest success, his looks are inevitably fixed
on us; and we cannot but with terror enjoy
the applause and the triumphs which we
have not merited.
We read in several modern books, that
with good laws we should always have morality
sufficient; but I cannot adopt this
opinion. Man is a being so compounded, and
his relations with his species are so various
and so fine, that to regulate his mind, and
direct his conduct, he has need of a multitude
of sentiments, on which the commands
of the sovereign have not any hold; they are
all simple and declared duties, which the
legislators have reduced to precepts, and this
54rough building, termed civil laws, leaves
vacancies throughout. The laws require
merely a blind obedience; and as they enjoin
and defend only actions, are absolutely indifferent
to the private sentiments of men;
the moral edifice which they raise is in several
parts a mere exterior form, and it is
at the roof, if I may say so, that they have
begun. Religion proceeds in a manner diametrically
opposite; it is in the heart, it is
in the recesses of conscience, that it lays its
first base; it appears to be acquainted with
the grand secrets of nature; it sows in the
earth a grain, and this grain is nourished,
and transformed into numerous branches,
which, without any effort, spring up, and
extend themselves to all dimensions and in
every kind of form.
I will suppose, nevertheless, that we believed
it sufficient for the maintenance of
public order, to reduce morality to the spirit
of civil laws, it would still be out of the
power of men to draw from this assimilation
familiar instructions proper to form a code
55of education; for these laws, simple in
their commands, are not so in their principles.
We perceive not immediately why
revenge, the most just, is prohibited; why
we have not the power to do ourselves justice
by the same means a ravisher would
use; why we have not a right to resist with
violence the tyrannic oppressor; in short,
why certain actions, some indifferent in
themselves, and some hurtful to others, are
condemned in a general and uniform manner:
a kind of combination is necessary to
discover, that the legislator himself is wandering
from natural ideas, in order to prevent
every person from being a judge in
his own cause, and to avoid that, those exceptions
and distinctions, of which every
circumstance is susceptible, might never be
determined by the judgment of individuals.
In the same manner, from those indirect
motives, the laws treat with more rigour an
offence difficult to define, than a disorder
more reprehensible in itself; but of which
the excesses might be easily perceived: and
they observe still the same rule with respect
56to crimes which are surrounded by greater
allurements, though this seduction is even
a motive for indulgence in the eyes of
simple justice; in short, the laws, in adopting
a more determinate method, to constrain
debtors to the discharge of their obligations,
prove that they are not compassionate to
unforeseen misfortunes, nor actuated by
other motives of equity which merit an equal
interest; all their attention is fixed on the relation
of engagements with the political resources,
which arise from commerce and its
transactions. There exists thus a multitude of
prohibitions of punishments, or gradations in
the penalties, which have not any connexion
but with the general views of the legislation,
and agree not with the circumscribed
good sense, which determines the judgment
of individuals. It is then often, by considerations
very extensive and complicated,
that an action is criminal or reprehensible
in the eyes of the law: thus, we know
not how to erect, on this base alone, a system
of morality, of which every one can
have a clear perception; and since the legislator
57carefully avoids submitting any thing
to private examination, because he sacrifices
often to this principle natural justice, how
then can he wish, at the same time, to
give us for a rule of conduct a political
morality, which is all founded on reasoning?
It is of consequence still to observe, that
to the eyes of the greater number of men,
the sense of the laws, and the decrees
formed by those who interpret them, ought
necessarily to be identified and blended, and
form only one point of view; and as the
judges are frequently exposed to error, the
true spirit of legislation remains often in
obscurity, and we with difficulty discern it.
It is, perhaps, because laws are the work
of our understanding, that we are disposed
to grant them a universal dominion: but I
will avow, I am far from thinking that
they can ever be substituted instead of the
salutary influence of religion, and that I
believe them insufficient even to regulate
58the things immediately under their jurisdiction;
thus I would request you to reflect,
if the unfortunate errors with which
we reproach criminal tribunals, have not
their source in the faults committed by sovereign
authority; when it has referred all
the duties of the judges to the injunctions
of the law, and when it has refused to confide
any longer in the conscience and private
sentiments of the magistrates.
Let us render this observation more clear
by a single example chosen from a number.
We demand at present, that the legislator
explain himself afresh on the grand
question, what witnesses are necessary? but
will he not always run the risk of being
deceived, whether he absolutely rejects a
probable evidence, or whether he makes
the fate of a criminal depend upon it? How
will he determine, that the testimony of
an honest man, identifying the person of an
assassin, in his own cause, should not be
reckoned any thing by the judge; and how
can he pretend also, that a testimony of
59this nature is sufficient to determine a
condemnation, when he who gives the
evidence appears suspicious, either from
the motives, which we must suppose actuate
him, or from the improbability of
his assertion? Reason is then placed between
two extremes; but intermediate
ideas not being consonant with the absolute
language of law, we ought, in
such circumstances, to leave much to
the wisdom and integrity of the magistrates;
and so far from serving innocence
by acting otherwise, we visibly endanger
it; because judges habituate themselves
to render the laws responsible for every
thing, and respectfully submit to the letter,
instead of obeying the spirit, which is the
earnest desire of obtaining truth. What
then, some will say, would you wish
that there should be no positive instructions,
neither to serve for a guide in
the examination of crimes, nor to determine
the character by which these
crimes may be distinguished? This was
never in my mind; but I could wish,
60that in an affair of such serious importance,
they would unite to the judgment
which proceeded from the prudence of the
legislator, that which may be brought by
the wisdom of the judges; I could wish,
that the criminal legislation prescribed to
the magistrates, not all that they are obliged
to do, but all from which they are not
exempt; not all that is sufficient to
determine their opinion, but all which
ought to be the indispensable condition
of a capital punishment. Guided by such
a spirit, the commands given by the
law, would be a safeguard against the ignorance,
or possible prevarication of the
judges; but as any general rule, any immutable
principle, is not applicable to an
infinite diversity of circumstances, I would
give to innocence a new defender, interesting
in a more immediate manner the morality
of the judges to search for and examine
the truth, and to recal continually
all the extent of their obligations; I could
wish, that previous to their passing a
sentence of condemnation, raising one of
61their hands towards heaven, they pronounced
with earnestness these words:
“I attest, that the man accused before us,
appears to me guilty, according to the
law, and according to my own private
judgment.” It is not sufficient, that we command
a judge to examine with probity, if
the proofs of an offence, are conformable to
those required by the statute; it is necessary to
inform a magistrate, that he ought to enquire
into the truth by all the means that scrupulous
anxiety can suggest; he should know, that,
called to decide on the life and the honour
of men, his understanding and his heart,
ought to be enlisted in the cause of
humanity, and that there are not any
limits opposed to bound his duty; then,
without failing in any of the enquiries ordained
by the laws, he would force himself
to go still further, that no evidence
proper to make an impression on a reasonable
man might be rejected, at the same
time, that none might have so decisive a
force, that the examination of circumstances
62would ever appear useless; the judges then
would make use of that sagacity, which
seems to discern instinctively; they would
not then disdain to read even the looks
of the accuser and the accused, and they
would not believe it a matter of indifference
to observe with attention, all
those emotions of nature, where sometimes
truth is painted with so much energy;
then, in short, innocence would be under
the protection of something as pure as itself,
the scrupulous conscience of a judge.
We have never, perhaps, sufficiently considered
how much a methodical order, when
we confine ourselves too servilely to it,
contracts the bounds of the mind; it
becomes then like a foot-path traced between
two banks, which prevents our discovering
what is not in a strait line. The
strict observance of method diverts us also
from consulting that light, sometimes so
lively, of which the soul only is the focus;
for in subjecting us to a positive course of
things always regular, and in making us
63find pleasure in a determined path, which
offers continual repose to our thoughts, it incapacitates
for thinking that delicate perception
of natural sentiments, which has nothing
fixed or circumscribed, but whose free flight
often makes us approach to truth, as by a
kind of instinct or inspiration.
I should stray too far from my subject,
if I extended these reflections, and I hasten
to connect them with the subject of this
chapter, in repeating again, that if the
laws are insufficient, even in those decisions
submitted to their authority, and if the
they have absolute need of the aid of religion,
whenever they impose on their private
expounders duties a little complicated;
they would be still less able to supply
the habitual and daily influence of that
motive, the most powerful of all, and the
only one at the same time, of which the
action will be sufficiently penetrating to follow
us in the mazes of our conduct, and
in the labyrinth of our thoughts.
64I ought now to direct your attention towards
other considerations. All that is
required by public order, all that is of importance
to society, some will say, is, that
criminals may not escape the sword of
justice, and that an attentive superintendance
discover them under the cloud where
they seek to conceal themselves. I will
not here recal the various obstacles, which
are opposed to the plenitude of this vigilance;
every one may perceive them, or
form an idea of them; but I hasten to
observe, that in considering society in its
actual state, we ought not to forget, that
religious sentiments have greatly diminished
the talk of government; a scene quite
new would open, if we had for our guide
only political morality; it would not then
be a few men without principles, who
would trouble the public order, more able
actors would mix in the throng, some conducted
by mature reflection, and others, carried
away by seducing appearances, would be
incessantly at war with all those, whose
fortune excited their jealousy; and then
65only we should know how many opportunities
there are of doing evil, and injuring
others. It would also happen, that
all these enemies of public order not being
disconcerted by the reproaches of their conscience,
would become every day more expert
in the art of avoiding the observation
of justice; and the dangers to which the
imprudent exposed themselves, would not
discourage the ingenious.
It is then, if I may be permitted so
to express myself, because the laws find
men in a healthy state, prepared by religious
instruction, that they can restrain
them; but if a system of education merely
political was ever to prevail, new precautions
and new chains would become absolutely
necessary, and after having freed us from
the mild ties of religion, the projectors of
such a system would increase our civil
slavery, would bend our necks under the
hardest of all yokes, that which is imposed
by our fellow-creatures.
66Religion, whose influence they wish us
to reject, is better appropriated than they
think, to the mixture of pride and weakness,
which constitutes our nature, and for
us, such as we are; its action is far preferable
to that of the penal laws; it is not,
before his equals, armed with the rod of
vengeance, that the culprit is made to appear;
it is not to their ignorance, or to
their inexorable justice, that he is abandoned;
it is at the tribunal of his own
conscience, that religion informs against
him; before a God, sovereign of the world,
that it humbles, and in the name of a tender
and merciful Father that it comforts
him. Alas! while you at once take from
us both our consolation and our true dignity,
you wish to refer every thing to private
interest and public punishment; but permit
me to listen to those commands which
come from on high; leave me to divert my
attention from the menacing sceptre which
the potentates of the earth weild in their
hand; leave me to account with Him, before
whom they shrink into nothing; leave me, in
67short, to address myself to him who pardons,
and who, at the moment I have offended,
permits me still to love him, and rely on
his grace!—Alas! without the idea of a
God,—without this connexion with a Supreme
Being, author of all nature, we
should only listen to the vile counsels of
selfish prudence, we should only have to
flatter and adore the rulers of nations, and
all those who in an absolute monarchy, are
the numerous representatives of the authority
of the prince; yes, talents, sentiments,
ought to bend before these distributors of
so much good and evil, if nothing exists
beyond worldly interest; and when once
every one cringes, there is no more dignity
in the character, men become incapable of
any great action, and unequal to any moral
excellence.
Religious opinions have the double merit
of maintaining us in the obedience due to the
laws and the soveriegn, and of nourishing
in our hearts a sentiment which sustains
our courage, and which reminds men of
68their true grandeur; teaches submission
without meanness, and prevents, above all,
cowardly humiliations before transitory
idols, in showing at a distance the last period,
when all must return to an equality
before the Master of the World.
The idea of a God, at the same distance
from all men, serves also to console us for
that shocking superiority of rank and fortune
under the oppression of which we
live; it is necessary to transport ourselves
to the heights religion discovers, to consider
with a kind of calmness and indifference
the frivolous pretentions of some,
and the confident haughtiness of others;
and such objects of regret, or of envy,
which appeared a Colossus to our imagination,
are changed into a grain of sand,
when we contrast them with the grand
prospects which such sublime meditations
display to our view.
They are then blind, or indifferent to
our interest, who wish to substitute, instead
69of religious instructions, political and
worldly maxims; and in like manner, those
are inflexible and unfeeling, who believe they
shall be able to conduct men only by terror;
and who, in contesting the salutary influence
of religious opinions, expect less from them
than the axe of the lictors, and the apparatus
of execution. What is then this wretched
system? For supposing even that the different
means of securing public tranquillity
were equal in their effect, should we not
prefer religious principles, which prevent
crimes, to the strict laws which punish
them? I understand not besides, how, with
the same hand that they repel religious sentiments,
they wish to raise every where scaffolds,
and multiply, without scruple, those
frightful theatres of severity; for if men, hurried
onwards to crimes, were only governed
by blind necessity, alas! what do they deserve?
And if we still determine to destroy
them as examples, we should assist at their
execution, as at that of beings devoted for
the good of society, as Iphigenia was sacrificed
at Aulis for the salvation of Greece.
70Religion is, in another respect, superior
to the laws, which are ever armed for
vengeance; instead of that, religion, even
when threatening, nourishes also the hopes
of pardon and felicity; and I believe, contrary
to the generally received opinion,
that man, by his nature, is more constantly
animated by hope, than restrained
by fear; the former of these sentiments
compose the tenor of our life, whilst the
latter is the effect of an extraordinary
circumstance, or particular situation; in
short, courage, or want of consideration,
turns our attention from danger, whilst ideas
of happiness are perpetually present, and
blended, if I may use the expression, with
our whole existence.
I perceive, however, that some may say
to me, it is not only of civil and penal laws
that we mean to speak, when we maintain
that good public institutions would be an efficacious
substitute for the influence of religion;
it would be necessary to introduce
laws of education, proper to modify, beforehand,
71the mind and form the character.
But they have not explained, and I am ignorant
that there are such laws, which they
wish to distinguish from the general doctrines
we are acquainted with; doctrines
susceptible, undoubtedly, of different degrees
of perfection, which, before instructing us
not only in the virtues simple and real, but
in all those mixed and conventional, have
necessarily a vague character, and could not
separate themselves from the support that
they borrow from the fixed and precise ideas
of religion. They may cite the example of
Sparta, where the state undertook the education
of the citizens, and formed by laws
the extraordinary manners which history
has delineated; but that government, aided
in this enterprize by all the influence of
paternal authority, nevertheless proposed but
two great objects, the encouragement
of martial qualities, and the maintenance of
liberty: morality was not made interesting,
though among us it requires so much application;
and it was rendered less necessary,
as every institution tended to introduce a
72perfect equality of rank and fortune, and
opposed all kind of communication with
foreigners. In short, it was, after all, a religious
opinion which subjected the Spartans
to the authority of their legislator; and
without their confidence in the oracle of
Delphos, Lycurgus had only been a celebrated
philosopher.
We are still further, at present, from the
disposition and situation which would allow
laws of education to govern us, supported
only by a political spirit; in order to make
the trial, we must be divided into little associations;
and by some means, not yet discovered,
be able to oppose invincible obstacles
to the enlargement of them, and to preserve
us from the desires and voluptuousness which
are the inevitable consequence of an augmentation
of wealth, and the progress of
the arts and sciences: in short, and it is a
singular remark, at a period when man is
become a being the most compounded, on
account of these social modifications, he has
need, more than ever, of a principle which
73will penetrate to the very source of his numerous
affections; consequently it would be necessary
suddenly to carry him back to his primitive
simplicity, to make him agree, in some
measure, with the limited extent of an education
purely civil. Let me add, that a
like education could not be adapted to the
commonalty, as in Sparta; they must be separated
from the citizens, and kept in servitude:
an observation which leads me to a
very important reflection; it is, that in a
country where slavery would be introduced,
where the most numerous class would be
governed by the continual fear of the severest
chastisement, they would be able to confide
more in the mere ascendency of political morality;
for this morality only having to keep in
order the part of society represented by
those who have property, the task would
not be difficult; but among us, where happily
all men, without any distinction, are
subject to the yoke of the law, an authority
so extensive, must necessarily be strengthened
and seconded by the universal influence
of religious opinions.
74I shall conclude this part of my subject
by one reflection more; supposing, even in
the sovereign authority, an exertion sufficiently
general to prevent or repress evil,
religion would still have this great advantage,
that it inculcates the beneficent virtues,
which the laws cannot reach; and yet, in
the actual state of society, it is become impossible
to omit those virtues. It is not sufficient
to be just, when the laws of property
reduce to bare necessaries the most
numerous class of men, whose weak resources
the most trivial accident disconcerts;
and I hesitate not to say, that such is the
extreme inequality established by these laws,
that we ought at present to consider the
spirit of beneficence and forbearance, as
constituting a part of social order; as in all
places and times, it softens by its assistance
the excess of wretchedness, and by an innumerable
multitude of springs spreads itself
as the vital juice, through forlorn beings,
whom misery had almost exhausted.
But if this spirit, properly intermediate between
the rigour of civil rights, and the
75original title of humanity, did not exist, or
should ever be extinct, we should see all the
subordinate ties relax imperceptibly; and a
man, loaded with the favours of fortune,
never presenting himself to the people under
the form of a benefactor; they would more
forcibly feel the great extent of his privileges,
and would accustom themselves to
discuss them. Men must then find a way
of moderating the despotism of fortune,
or render homage to religion, which, by
the sublime idea of an exchange between
the blessings of heaven and earth, obliges
the rich to give what the laws cannot demand.
Religion then comes continually to assist
the civil legislation, it speaks a language
unknown to the laws, it warms that sensibility
which ought to advance even before
reason; it acts like light and interior
warmth, as it both enlightens and animates;
and what we have not sufficiently
observed, is, that in society its moral sentiments
are the imperceptible tie of a number
76of parts, which seem to be held by their own
agreement, and which would be successively
detached, if the chain which united them
was ever to be broken: we shall more
clearly perceive this truth, in the examination
we are going to make of the connexion
of opinion with morality.
When we imagine we should be able to
subject men to the observance of public order,
and inspire them with the love of virtue,
by motives independent of religion, we
propose, undoubtedly, to put in action two
powerful springs; the desire of esteem and
praise; and the fear of contempt and shame.
Thus, to follow my subject in all its
branches, I ought necessarily to examine
what is the degree of force of these different
motives, and what is also their true application.
I have already spoken, in other
works of mine, of the opinion of the world,
and of its salutary effects; but the subject I
am now treating obliges me to consider it
under a different point of view, and it is by
77placing myself behind the scene, that I shall
be able to fulfil this task.
I remark, at first, that the opinion of the
world exercises its influence in a very confined
space, as it is particularly called in to
judge men, whose rank and employments
have some splendour in the world; the opinion
of the public is an approbation or censure,
exercised in the name of the general
interest; thus it ought only to be applied
to actions and to words, which either directly
or indirectly affect this interest. The
private conduct of him who discharges in society
the most important functions, is indeed
submitted to the judgment and superintendance
of the public at large; and we ought
not to wonder that it should, since in similar
circumstances the principles of an individual
appear an earnest, or presage of his public
virtues; but all those, whose sole occupation
is to spend their income, those who are
entirely devoted to dissipation, and have not
any connexion with the grand interests of
78the community, become independent of the
opinion of the world; or at least they do
not experience its severity, till, by foolish
extravagance or inconsiderate pretentions,
they draw the attention of the public on
their conduct. In short, a great number of
men, who, by the obscurity of their condition
and moderate fortune, find themselves
lost in a crowd, will never dread a power
that singles out of the ranks its heroes
and victims: thus people, concealed under
humble roofs scattered in the country, are
as indifferent to the opinion of the world,
as are to the rays of the sun, those unhappy
tribes who labour at the bottom of mines,
and pass their whole lives in a dark subterraneous
cavern.
We cannot then form any kind of comparison
between the peculiar ascendency of
reputation, and the general influence of religious
morality.
Fame only recompenses rare actions; and
would have nothing to bestow on a nation
79of heroes. Religion tends continually to
render virtue common; but the universal
success of its instructions would take away
nothing from the value of its benefits.
In order to receive the rewards which
fame bestows, men must appear with splendour
on the stage of life. Religion, on the
contrary, extends its most distinguished favours
to those who despise praise, and who
do good in secret.
The world almost always requires, that
talents and knowledge should accompany
virtue; and it is thus that the love of praise
becomes the seed and spring of great actions.
Religion never imposes this condition;
its recompenses belong to the ignorant
as well as the learned, to the humble
spirit as well as to the exalted genius; and
it is in animating equally all men, in exciting
universal activity, that it effectually concurs
to the maintenance of civil order.
The world, only judging of actions in
their state of maturity, takes not any account
80of efforts; and, as men do not
seize the palm till the moment when they
approach the goal, it is necessary, at the
commencement of the career, that every one
should derive from his own force his courage
and perseverance. Religion, on the contrary,
if I may say so, dwells with us from
the moment that we begin to think; it
welcomes our intentions, strengthens our
resolutions, and supports us even in the hour
of temptation; it is, at all times, and in all
situations, that we experience its influence,
as we are continually reminded of its rewards.
Fame distributing only favours, whose
principal value arises from comparisons and
competitions, often draws on its favourites
the envenomed breath of slander, and then
sometimes they doubt about their real value.
Religion mingles no bitterness with its reward;
it is in obscurity that it confers content;
and as it has treasures for all the
world, what is granted to some never impoverishes
others.
81The world is often mistaken in its judgment,
because in the midst of so vast a circle it
is often difficult to distinguish true merit and
the splendour which follows it, from the
false colours of hypocrisy. Religion extends
its influence to the inmost recesses of
the heart, and places there an observer,
who has a closer view of men than their
actions afford, and whom they cannot
either deceive or surprise.
In short, I will say it, there are moments
when the opinion of the world loses
its force, and becomes enervated or governed
by a servile spirit, it searches to find
faults in the oppressed, and attributes grand
intentions to powerful men, that it may,
without shame, abandon one, and celebrate
the other. Ah! it is in such moments we
return with delight to the precepts of religion,
to those independent principles, which,
while they illustrate every thing deserving
of esteem or contempt, enable us to follow
the dictates of our heart, and speak
according to our conscience!
82Thus, the opinion of the world, whose
influence I have seen increase, which unites
so many motives to excite men to distinguished
actions, and to exalt them even to
the great virtues, still ought never to be
compared with the universal, invariable influence
of religion, and with those sentiments
which its precepts inspire men of all
ages, of all conditions, and every degree of
understanding.
Would it be straying from my subject,
to remark here the illusion we are under,
if we expect any important utility to arise
from those marks of distinction lately introduced
into France, under the name of
public rewards for virtue? Those trivial favours
of opinion can never be decreed but
to a few dispersed actions; and it might
be apprehended, that if we rendered such
institutions permanent and general, they
might turn the attention of the people at
large from the grand recompense, which
ought to be the spring and encouragement
of all that is great and virtuous. Experienced
83hunters, at the moment when all
the pack is still pursuing the most noble
ranger of the forest, would not permit
them to turn, to run after a prey which
darted out of a lurking hole or thicket.
The establishments on which I here fix
my attention, have, perhaps, also the inconvenience
of rousing a sentiment of surprise
at the appearance of a good action,
and announcing thus too distinctly, that
they believe them rare, and above the common
exertions of humanity; and if we extended
still further these institutions, they
would only introduce a spirit of parade, always
ready to languish, when applause was
distant; and it would be a great misfortune,
if such a spirit ever took place of
simple and modest integrity, which receives
from itself its motives and reward: virtue
and vanity make a bad mixture; men are
then accustomed only to act to be seen, and
these opportunities, at present not very numerous,
they wish to choose. There is
besides a class of men so ill treated by fortune,
84that we should commit a great mistake
in habituating them to connect continually
calculations of probable rewards
from men, with the practice of their duty;
they would too often be deceived.
It is then, we cannot too often repeat it, it
is respect for morality, which it is necessary
to maintain, by strengthening religious
principles, its most solid foundation; all
other extraordinary helps derive their force
from novelty; and at the period when society
would have the greatest need of their
succour, it would, perhaps, have arrived at
its greatest depravity.
Thus far at present, I have considered
the influence of opinion, only in general;
but men manifest more in a private
manner, the idea that they have conceived
of each other; and this sentiment,
which takes then the simple name of esteem,
is connected with a determinate
knowledge of the moral character of those
with whom we have an habitual correspondence;
85esteem under this view, has not the
splendour of reputation; but as every one
can pretend to it in the circle where his
birth and occupations have placed him, the
hope of obtaining it ought to be reckoned
among the grand motives which excite us
to the observance of morality. However,
if we supposed that this esteem was entirely
separated from religious sentiments, it would
be like many other advantages, which every
one would estimate by his own fancy; for
whatever comes solely from men, can only
have a price relative to our connexion with
them: thus the esteem of one, or of several
persons, would not indemnify for such a sacrifice;
and often also this sentiment, on their
part, would appear inferior to some other
objects, of ambition; in a word, from the
moment every preference, every valuation
was brought to a standard, each would insensibly
have his own book of rates; and the
justness of them would depend on the degree
of judgment and foresight of every individual.
But how can we imagine that
perfection in morality would ever be secure,
86when it depended on wavering and arbitrary
comparisons, whose foundation would be
continually changed by the various circumstances
and situations of life? The motives
which religion presents are absolutely different;
it is not by confused contrasts, that it
directs men; it is a predominate interest to
which they are recalled; it is round a beacon,
of which the brilliant flames are seen on all
sides, that they are assembled; in short the
rules which it prescribes are not uncertain,
and the advantages which it promises do
not admit of an equivalent.
Let us further observe here, that selfishness,
after having compared the enjoyment
of esteem with pleasures of a different kind,
would not fail to reckon the chances which
afford a hope of imposing on men; and in
the midst of these perplexed calculations, the
passion of the moment would be almost always
victorious. Besides, we might ask,
what is the esteem of others, to that
numerous class which misery makes solitary?
87And what is it but a sentiment, of
which the effect is never obvious, to those
whose view is limited to the present day,
or the next, because they only live by instantaneous
resources? All the advantages
annexed to reputation are promisory notes,
of which it is necessary to be able to wait
the distant expiration; reflection and knowledge
only acquaint us with their value;
and the ignorance of the greater part of a
nation would render them unequal to this
kind of combination.
If then, after having taken a view of the
lowest, I observe those who compose the
superior class, I will venture a reflection of
a very different kind; that in a country
where we have the hope of obtaining
the most splendid marks of distinction,
and where fame has power to raise heroes,
great ministers, and men of genius in every
profession, we do not find that the duties of
private life are best known and the most
respected. Men, uniting to celebrate with
ardour great talents and actions, consider
88with more indifference the morals and manners
of individuals; they make an ideal
beauty, composed of every thing which
contributes to the celebrity of their country
and the honour of their nation; but by accustoming
themselves to refer every thing to
these interests, they become extremely negligent
with respect to common virtues, and
sometimes they even decide, that the rare qualities
of the mind may absolutely dispense with
them. Besides, if fame can serve to reward
the most assiduous labour and painful self-denial,
it is far from being necessary, that
moderate sentiments of esteem should indemnify
those who obtain them for the sacrifice
of their passions; it does not follow,
that this sentiment should give them
strength to resist the multiplied seductions
that the hopes of ambition and the chances
of fortune present to our view; and this
consideration acquires more force in a kingdom,
where, among the distinctions of
which the favour of the prince is the origin,
there are some which attract so much homage,
that they resemble fame itself.
89In short, and what I am going to say
comprehends, in a general manner, the various
questions which I have just treated:
the esteem of men, even when this sentiment
seems the most foreign to religion, receives,
nevertheless, from it its principal
strength, and even origin; it is a reflection
of great importance, and of which I will
endeavour to demonstrate the truth.
We ought, at first, to ask what is the original
principle of society, which gives weight
to the various expressions of the sentiment of
esteem: we shall find, undoubtedly, that
it is a distinct idea of the duties of men, a
notion of good morals, as general as firm.
Now the duties of life cannot be fulfilled
without the assistance of religion, since
the connexion of private and public interest,
the only foundation of the virtues of our
framing, is, as we have demonstrated an
imperfect system, and susceptible of a multitude
of exceptions, or arbitrary interpretations.
It is necessary then that our social
obligations should be fixed in an authentic
90manner, if we wish that our judgment and
the sentiments which we adopt should be
a real indication of the relation the conduct
of men has with moral perfection;
but, if this perfection was only determined
by human conventions, if it was despoiled
of the majesty which religion invests it
with, reputation, and sentiments of esteem,
which are the pledge and stamp of good
morals, would insensibly lose their value;
we should then recollect that coin, which
some vainly wished to preserve the current
value of in commerce, after having materially
altered either the weight or the standard;
and, in effect, to follow the simile a
moment longer, how could we alter the
essence of morality more, and lessen the respect
which is due to it, than by separating
it from the sublime motives which religion
presents, to unite it only to political considerations.
One objection I ought to obviate: it may
be said, perhaps, that the influence of honour
in the army, seems to be a proof
91that reputation, without the aid of any other
impulse, would have sufficient influence to
direct the mind to the end which we propose
to ourselves. This objection does not
appear to me decisive: honour in armies
preserves a great ascendency, because amongst
men thus assembled, it is impossible to
escape shame, and the punishment incurred
by cowardice; it is in war that the power
of authority and that of fame unite all their
forces, because that they exercise their influence
on men engaged in one action, actuated
by the same spirit, by that singular
subordination, termed discipline. Thus,
when in the commencement of the Roman
republic, the army participated more of the
air of the city, and was not yet familiarized
to the military yoke, it was then only
through the sanction of an oath, supported
by religious sentiments, that the general
contrived to prevent the inconstancy and defection
of those who followed him to the
camp. Whatever then may be at present,
the power of honour in armies, whatever at
present may be its influence in the field
92of battle, where the actors, spectators, and
judges, are on the same stage, and have nothing
else to do but to practise, remark, and
praise a particular virtue, we should not be
able to draw any deduction from it, applicable
to the social relations, whose extent is
immense, and to whose diversity there is no
bound. Besides, military honour is very far
from being foreign to the general principles
of morality, and consequently to religious
opinions, the most solid support of those
principles; for sentiments which contain,
in some manner, the idea of a noble sacrifice,
would lose great part of their force,
if the great basis of our duty was ever
shaken.
A perfect model is necessary to fix the admiration
of men; and it is only by an intercourse
more or less constant with that first
model, that several opinions which seem, in
appearance, to arise merely from convenience
have consistency.
93However, there has resulted from our
warlike customs an opinion purely social,
which is very powerful: it is that of the
point of honour, when we consider it in its
singular and simple acceptation, when a man
is ready to sacrifice his life to guard himself
from the slightest humiliation. This opinion,
it is true, only dictates its rules among
equals, and the exercise of its authority extends
to an inconsiderable part of a nation,
which, wholly given up to worldly concerns,
are occupied entirely with comparisons
and distinctions; it is one of the ancient
appendages of military honour, and in
uniting all its force towards a single idea it
is become a simple principle, which has been
blindly transmitted and as blindly respected.
It is by the effect of a similar habit that
savages affix all their glory to a contempt of
bodily pain, and to demonstrations of gaiety,
in the midst of the most cruel torments.
Can we doubt, that their supernatural exultation
would not be weakened, at the very
instant they were acquainted with our most
94common ideas of virtue? likewise our notions
of honour, which, in its exaggerated
state, resembles their death songs, would
not resist metaphysical arguments, if ever
metaphysics became our sole guide in morality;
for after having analyzed the motives
of our most important obligations,
we should analyze also our fine-spun sentiment,
which makes us regardless of danger.
Yes, if respect for religion was absolutely
destroyed; if this simple opinion, which
carries with it so many obligations, and
serves to defend so many duties, had no
other support, the idea of honour would
soon be weakened; and our personal interest,
insensibly disengaged from all the ties
of the imagination, would take a character
so rude, and so determined, that our habitual
impressions, and our relation with
others, would be absolutely changed.
Permit me then to make another reflection:
it will be always easy to subject men
to a governing opinion, when they themselves,
and those who govern them, unite
95al their efforts to attain the same end; but,
if this governing opinion is not, like religion,
the general principle of our conduct;
if it cannot give us laws in the different
situations of life, it would serve only to
throw us out of an equilibrium, or at least
its utility would be partial and momentary·
Nevertheless, if, with a design of remedying
this inconvenience, we searched to multiply
these opinions, they would weaken
each other; for every time we wish strongly
to restrain the imagination, it is necessary
that a single idea, a single authority, a single
object of interest, should engage the attention
of men. Perfection, in this respect, is
the choice of a single principle, whose consequence
extends to all; and such is the
particular merit of religious opinions.
We can then, in the name of reason, of
policy, and philosophy, demand some respect
for them; and I ought to repeat, since
it is time for me to resume my subject, that
esteem or contempt, honour or shame, are
so far from being able to supply the place of
96the active influence of religion, that its sentiments
confirm the opinion of the world,
and, more or less, obviously direct it. It
follows, that we should soon reason shrewdly,
on the value which we ought to set on the esteem
of the world, if the expression of its approbation
was not united in our contemplation
to something more noble than the judgment
of mankind, and if an awful respect for
virtue was not imbibed by means of a religious
education. We should soon experience
that, in wishing to found every thing
on the calculations of worldly wisdom, these
same calculations would destroy all; and
morality having at once lost its grand support,
we should try in vain to prop it by a
scaffold of laws, and the vain efforts of an
opinion without a guide. Hypocrisy and
dissimulation would become immediately a
necessary science, a legitimate defence, which
would weary the attention of every inspector;
and testimonies of esteem appearing
only an ingenious encouragement granted to
the sacrifices of selfishness, the applause decreed
97to a generous mode of conduct would
be insensibly discredited by those who gave
and by those who received them, and would
end, perhaps, in becoming a secret object of
derision, as mere play from one to another.
Every thing is replaced and firmly established
by religion; it surrounds, I may
say, the whole system of morality, resembling
that universal and mysterious force of
physical nature, which retains the planets
in their orbits, and subjects them to a regular
revolution; and which, in the midst
of the general order it maintains, escapes
the observation of men, and appears to their
feeble sight unconscious of its own work.
CHAP. III. An Objection drawn from our natural Dispositions to Goodness.
98
Men, according to the opinion of
some, have received from nature
a secret tendency towards every thing
just, good, and virtuous; and from this
happy inclination, the task of the moralist
is confined to prevent the alteration
of our original constitution: an easy
task, add they, and which may be fulfilled
without any extraordinary effort, and without
having recourse to religion.
We ought, at first, to observe, that the
existence of this excellent innate goodness
has been a long time a subject of debate, as
every assertion always will be, of which we
cannot demonstrate the truth, either by
argument or experience. We shall never
be able to perceive distinctly the natural
99dispositions of men, since, to our view,
they are never separated from the improvement,
or the modification, which they owe
to education and habit. One or two examples
they produce of children arrived at
maturity found in a forest; but we are ignorant
at what precise age they were abandoned
by their parents, and what might
have been their dispositions, if, brought
back to society, they had not been guided
by instruction, or restrained by fear and
subordination. It is not very probable, that
man derived from his original nature all the
dispositions which lead to goodness; such a
thought agrees not with his pride or dignity,
since the intellectual faculties with
which he is endowed, the power he has of
gradually tending to perfection, announce
to him that he ought to fulfil his career
with the assistance of reason, and that, very
different from those beings governed by an
invariable instinct, he should elevate himself
as much above them, by cultivating
the abilities entrusted to him, as by the
100granduer of the destiny to which he is permitted
to aspire.
Reason, however, our faithful guide,
would be insufficient to attach us to sentiments
of order, justice, and beneficence, if
it was not seconded by a nature proper
to receive the impression of every noble
sentiment; but such reflections, far from
favouring any system of independence or
impiety, receive from religious opinions
their principal force. What is, in effect,
in this respect the course of our thoughts?
We attribute, at first, to a Supreme and
Universal Being all the perfections which
seem to constitute his essence; and from
this principle we are led to presume, that
we, his intelligent creatures, and his most
noble work, participate, in some manner,
of the Divine spirit, of which we are an
emanation: but, if we could ever be persuaded,
that our confidence in the idea of a
God is a deceitful illusion, we should not
have any reason to believe that the mere
child of nature, blind and without a guide,
101would be disposed to good, rather than evil.
We must derive our opinion of innate
goodness from a secret sentiment, and from
a perfect conviction of the existence of a
power which keeps every thing in order,
the model of all perfection: but, as we
obtain equally from this power, the faculties
which render us capable of acquiring
knowledge, of improving by experience,
of extending our views into futurity, and
elevating our thoughts to God; we should
not know how to distinguish these last expedients
of ability and virtue from those
which belong to our first instinct; and we
have no interest in doing it.
That which we perceive most clearly is,
that there is a correspondence, a harmony
between all the parts of our moral nature;
and therefore we cannot deny the existence
of our natural inclination towards goodness,
nor consider this inclination as a disposition
which has not need of any religious sentiment
to acquire strength, and become a rational
conductor through the rough road
102of life. The production of salutary fruits requires,
before all things, a favourable soil;
but this advantage would be useless without
seed and the labour of the husbandman, and
the fertilizing warmth of the sun: the
Author of Nature has thought fit that a
great number of causes should concur continually
to renovate the productions of the
earth; and the same intention, the same
plan, seems to have determined the principle
and the developement of all the gifts of
the mind: it is necessary, in order to attach
intelligent beings to the love of virtue,
and respect for morality, that not only happy
natural dispositions, but still more, a judicious
education, good laws, and, above all, a continual
intercourse with the Supreme Being,
from which alone can arise firm resolutions,
and every ardent thought, should concur;
but men ambitious of submitting a great
number of relations to their weak comprehension,
would wish to confine them to a
few causes. We shall discover, every moment,
the truth of this observation; actuated
by a similar motive, many wish to
103attribute every thing to education; whilst
others pretend, that our natural dispositions
are the only source of our actions and intentions,
of our vices and virtues. Perhaps,
in fact, there is, in the universe, but
one expedient and spring, one prolific idea,
the root of every other: yet, as it is at the
origin of this idea, and not in its innumerable
developements, that its unity can be
perceived, the first grand disposer of nature:
only ought to be in possession of the secret;
and we, who see, of the immense mechanism
of the world, but a few wheels,
become almost ridiculous, when we make
choice sometimes of one, and sometimes of
another, to refer to it exclusively, the
cause of motion, and the simplest properties
of the different parts of the natural or moral
world.
CHAP. IV. An Objection drawn from the good Conduct of many irreligious Men.
104
You may think, perhaps, after having
read the preceding chapter, that I
have taken little room to treat a question on
which so much has been written; but if it
be allowed that I have made some approaches
to truth, I shall not need any excuse. The
researches after truth resemble those circles
which we trace sometimes one round
another; the furthest from the centre has
necessarily the greatest extent.
I will then endeavour, with the same
brevity, to examine the objection which is to
make the subject of this chapter.
Society, some say, is at present filled with
persons, who, to borrow the expression of
the times, are absolutely disengaged from
105every kind of prejudice, who believe not
even the existence of a Supreme Being; and
yet, their conduct appears as regular as that
of the most religious men.
Before replying to this objection I ought
to make an important observation. The
detractors of a religious spirit habitually
confound, in their discourse, devotion and
piety; they attribute besides to devotion an
exaggerated sense, which its natural definition
will not bear; and derive from this
misconception a great advantage. Piety,
simple in its sentiments and deportment,
commonly escapes the heedless glance of a
man of the world; and the greater part of
those who speak of it, would have some difficulty
to delineate it well; devotion, on
the contrary, such as we are accustomed to
represent, seems to attach some value to appearances;
it displays itself, it makes a parade
of the austerity of its principles; and
often soured by the sacrifices, of the constraint,
which it has imposed on itself as a
law, it contracts a rough and inflexible spirit,
106which banishes sentiment, amiable and
indulgent: in short, devotion is sometimes
mixed with hypocrisy, and then it is
only a despicable assemblage of the most
contemptible vices. It is easy to judge,
from these two pictures, that judicious piety,
rational and indulgent, forms the true characteristic
of a religious spirit, considered in
its purity. It is then with morality, inspired
by a like spirit, that it is necessary to compare
those men, who are guided only by the principles
they frame to themselves; and I believe,
that one of these two systems of morality
is far superior to the other; but we
run a risk of deceiving ourselves in our observations,
when we do not extend them
beyond the narrow circle, known amongst
us by the name of society. Men, in the circumscribed
relations which arise from the
communications of idleness and dissipation,
require of each other, only qualities applicable
to these kind of relations; their code
of laws is very short, integrity in the commerce
of life, constancy in friendship, or, at
least, politeness in our intercourse, a kind of
107elevation in their discourse and manner; in
short, probity is the grand outline; and this
is all that is required, in order to display
ourselves to the best advantage in the midst
of the active scenes which surround us, where
we sometimes form a confederacy proper
to serve as a support of the great virtues;
but what they wish for before every thing
is, a grant of indulgence in favour of vices,
which do not disturb the order or the peace
of their pleasures, and which only render
unhappy parents, husbands, and creditors,
vassals and the commonalty. Far distant,
indeed, from a like tolerance, are those collective
obligations which morality dictates,
obligations, of which I made a concise
sketch, when I compared them with those
which are imposed by civil laws. It is
then only, after having retraced ourselves
the entire system of our duties, it is only after
having compared them with the conventions
softened by fashionable society, that
we are in a state to judge, if the conduct of
persons, disengaged from every religious tie,
ought to be given as an example, and if their
108morality can suffice for all the circumstances
of life.
But in admitting, for a moment, this supposition,
we should not have a right to draw
any deduction contrary to the truths, which
I have endeavoured to establish; for all those
who free themselves at a certain age, from
the yoke of religion, have been at least prepared
by it to respect virtue. Principles
inculcated early in life, have a great influence
on the human heart, a long time even after
our understanding has rejected the reasoning
which served as the basis of those principles:
the soul, formed when the reason
begins to dawn, to the love of order, and
sustained in this disposition by the force
of habit, never entirely loses this principle.
So that, whatever be the opinions adopted
when the judgment is formed, it is
slowly, and by degrees, that these opinions
act on the character and direct the conduct.
Besides, while religion maintains amongst
the greater number of men, a profound respect
for morality, those who reject these
109sentiments know, nevertheless, that probity
leads to esteem, and to the various advantages
which depend on it. Of course, a virtuous
atheist merely makes us recollect, that
he lives where virtue is respected; and it is
not the inefficacy, but, on the contrary, the
indirect influence of religious opinions,
which his conduct demonstrates to me. I
think I see, in a beautiful piece of mechanism,
a small part broken off from the chain,
and which maintains its place, by the force
still subsisting of general equilibrium.
What! would you have need of religion
to be an honest man? Here is an interrogative,
with which they hope to embarrass
those who wish to preserve to morality its
best support; and the dread that some
have of not giving an honourable idea of
their sentiments, induces them to reply with
quickness, that certainly they should not
need the check of religion, and that the dictates
of their heart would always be sufficient
to direct them. This answer is undoubtedly
very respectable; but for my part,
110I avow, I should merely say, that virtue has
so many charms, when it has been a long
time practised, that a truly sensible man
would continue to be just, even when every
religious sentiment was annihilated; but
that it is uncertain whether, with a political
education, his principles might have been
the same; and I should add further, that
no one, perhaps, could be certain, that he
would have sufficient strength to resist a revolution
of ideas similar to those that we
have just supposed, were he to fall at the
same time into a state of misery and dejection,
which would make him revolt at the
enjoyments and the triumphs of others. It
is always in a like situation, that it is necessary
to place ourselves, to judge properly of
certain questions; for all those who enjoy
the favours of fortune, have, in consequence
of this fortunate condition, fewer objects of
envy, and are less subject to temptations;
and in the midst of the different comforts,
which peaceably surround them, it is not
the principles of others of which they know
the want.
111As for philosophical writers, if it were
amongst them, that we are to search for the
principal defenders of the new opinions,
and if, at the same time, their moral conduct
was cited as an example, we should
have to observe, that a retired life, love of
study, and a constant habit of reflection,
ought to spread a kind of calm over their
sentiments; besides, delivered up to abstraction,
or preoccupied by general ideas, they
know not all the passions, and they are
seldom personally engaged in those ardent
pursuits which stimulate society. They
cannot then determine, with certainty,
what would have been the degree of their resisting
force, if without any other defensive
arms than their principles, and no guide
but convenience, they had to combat against
the allurements of fortune and ambition,
which present themselves in every step of
our worldly career. They have also, like
all the inventors and the propagators of a
new system, vanity, which engages them to
multiply the number of their disciples: and
how, in fact, could they be able to flatter
112themselves with any success, if, in attacking
the most respectable opinions, they had
not endeavoured to prove that their doctrines
were not in opposition to morality.
Besides, it is very necessary, after having
silently sapped the foundation of our dwelling,
that they support for some time the edifice,
were it only while they have with us
a common habitation; were it only during
the interval when we should be able to
judge in their presence, of the utility of
their instructions: in short, very often,
perhaps, the dupes of their own heart, they
have been induced to believe that, because
they were at the same time irreligious by
system, and just by character and habit, religion
and virtue have not a necessary
union; and if it is true, that in the grand
interests of life, the slightest doubt has some
influence on our actions, would it be possible,
that at the time when they would
seek to shake religious opinions, even when
they are ridiculed in conversation, that they
would still endeavour to preserve a secret
connexion with them, by the propriety of
113their conduct? It is thus that, in the disputes
of princes, or in the quarrels of ministers,
the members of the same family
have sometimes the art of dividing themselves,
in order, at all events, that one of
their friends should be in each party.
These different reflections ought necessarily
to be taken into consideration, before
we give ourselves up to the inferences that
they would wish to draw from the manners
of irreligious men; but, to discredit
their arguments, it is sufficient to observe,
that we cannot make any application
of them to the most numerous class of
men: honest atheists have never existed
among the commonalty, religion comprehends
all their knowledge in morality; and
if once they were to lose this guide, their
conduct would be absolutely dependent on
chance and circumstances.
It is still essential to observe, that, according
to the motives to which we can attribute
the relaxation of moral principles,
114there exists a great difference between the
various characters which attend vicious actions:
a depraved man, though religious,
does wrong by accident, through weakness,
and according to the successive transports
of his passions; but the wicked atheist
has not a fixed time; opportunities do not
surprise him, he searches for them, or
waits for them with impatience; he yields
not through the contagion of imitation;
but he takes pleasure in setting an example;
he is not a corrupt fruit, he is himself the
tree of evil.
Another objection is raised, but of a
very different kind: they point out the
contrast, frequently perceived, between the
conduct and the religious sentiments of the
greater part of men; an opposition from
whence they would wish to conclude, that
these sentiments are not a certain safeguard:
and they add, to support their
argument, that in examining the belief
of all those, whose licentious life is
terminated by an ignomious death, we perceive
115that the greater number is composed
of people blindly subject to religious opinions.
Undoubtedly, these opinions form not, at
all times, a complete resistance to the different
starts of our passions; but it suffices,
that they may be the most efficacious.
There has been, and there ever will be, vicious
men in the bosom of society, even
where religion has the greatest influence;
for it acts not on us like a mechanical force,
by weights, levers, and springs, of which
we can calculate exactly the power; it is
not an arbitrary modification of our nature;
but we are enlightened, guided, and animated,
according to our dispositions and
sensibility, and according to the degree of
our own efforts in the numerous conflicts
which we have to sustain; it would be then
an evident piece of treachery, to attack religion,
by drawing a picture of the vices and
crimes, from which it has not been able to
guard society, instead of fixing our attention
on all the disorders which it checks or prevents.
116They would be equally wrong, who represent
the general languor of religion,
as a proof that it has, in our time, very
little influence on morality; it would be
necessary rather to remark, how great must
have been that power, which even in the
decline of its force is still sufficient to
concur to the maintenance of public order;
we should be authorized to say, how
valuable is the whole, when we receive so
much advantage from a part?
In short, the consequence that they would
wish to draw from the opinions, and from
the faith of wretches sinking under the
sword of justice, in an abuse of reasoning:
men termed religious, forming the major
part of the populace, we must among them
necessarily meet the greater number of
malefactors; in the same manner that we
are sure to find, in this class, more men of
a particular age, stature, or complexion;
but, if they have a right to use such an argument
to censure a religious education,
they might, with the same reason, contest
117the salubrity of breast milk, alledging, that
many sick and dying persons have received
this nourishment. We should never confound
a common circumstance with a general
cause; these are two ideas absolutely
distinct.
There are other objections which equally
deserve to be discussed; but they will find
a place, with more propriety, after the chapter
where, I shall examine, under different
heads, the influence of religious opinions on
our happiness. You have seen, and you will
perceive still more, in the progress of this
work, that I do not endeavour to elude difficulties;
for before I determined to defend,
according to my abilities, a cause which I
could wish to render dear to mankind, I
carefully studied the means; and after having
fortified myself against the systems opposite
to my sentiments, I fear not to examine
the motives which serve to support
them.
CHAP. V. The Influence of Religious Principles on our Happiness.
118
As we have shown the close connexion
of morality with religious opinions,
we have already pointed out the principal
relation of these opinions with public good,
since the repose and interior tranquillity of
society essentially depend on the maintenance
of civil order, and the exact observance
of the laws of justice. But a great part of
human happiness does not arise from the
community: thus, the benefits religion imparts
would be very imperfect, if they were
not extended to our most intimate sentiments,
if they were not useful in those secret
conflicts of different affections which
agitate our souls, and which pre-occupy
our thoughts. Religion is very far
from deserving this reproach; that which
raises it indeed above every kind of
119legislation is, that it influences equally public
good and private happiness. We ought
to examine this truth; but to do it philosophically,
we must necessarily contemplate,
and pry into our nature, and examine, for a
moment, into the first causes of the enjoyments
or the anxieties of our minds.
Men, when they have advanced a few
steps in the world, and as soon as
their intellectual faculties begin to open,
extend their views, and live in the future;
sensual pleasures and bodily pain only
detain them in the present; but in the
long intervals which exist between the renewal
of these sensations, it is by anticipation
and memory that they are happy or
miserable; and recollection is only interesting,
as it is perceived to keep up the connexion
between the past and future. Undoubtedly,
the influence of the future, on
all our moral affections, escapes often our
notice; to cite some examples of this
truth, we believe, that only the present
moment produces happiness, when we receive
120elogiums, obtain some mark of distinction,
or are informed of an unexpected augmentation
of our fortune; and still more,
when we are pleased with the sport of our
imagination, or the discoveries of our reason
in our closet or in conversation. These enjoyments,
and many others similar, we call
present happiness; though there is not any
one of them which does not owe its value,
and even reality, to the single idea of futurity.
In fact, respect, applause, the triumphs of
self-love, the forerunners of fame, and even
fame itself, are the acquisitions which education
and habit have rendered precious, in
exhibiting always beyond them some other
advantage, of which these first were only
the symbols. Often, indeed, the last object
of our ambition is but an enjoyment of opinion,
the confused image of some possession
more real. Every where we see vague hopes
hurry away our imagination; we see the expected
good, the immediate end of our meditation,
or the obscure motive of the estimation
we annex to the various satisfactions,
of which our present happiness is composed.
121Thus, indirectly, and almost unknown to
ourselves, all is in perspective in our moral
existence; and it is by this reasoning that,
always deluded, we are seldom perfectly deceived.
Subjected by long habit, it is in
vain that we would wish to separate the
imaginary advantages of opinion from the
delusions of hope which surround them,
and by which we have been seduced all our
life.
There is but a small part of the moral
system, which we cannot make agree with
this manner of explaining the principal cause
of our pleasures and of our pains. I am
very far, however, from wishing to make
the sentiments, which unite men by the
charm of friendship, depend on the same
principle; and which have such an essential
influence on their happiness. All is real
in these affections, since they are a simple
association of ourselves to others, and them
to us; in this view it may be considered
as, in some measure, prolonging our own
existence; but this division, so intimate, of
122the good and evil of life, does not destroy
their essence. Friendship doubles our pleasures
and our comforts; and it is by the
close alliance of two sympathizing souls
that we are fortified against all events; but
it is always with the same passions that
it is necessary to combat; thus whether we
remain solitary, or live in others, the future
preserves its influence over us.
If such is, however, our moral nature,
that the object of our wishes will always be
at some distance; if our thoughts, like the
course of the waves, are ever active, and
pressing forward; if our present enjoyments
have a secret tie with the imaginary advantages
of opinion, of which the last term is
still a fleeting shadow; in short, if all is
future in the fate of man; with what interest,
with what love, with what respect,
ought we not to consider this beautiful system
of hope, of which religious opinions
are the majestic foundation! What encouragement
they present! What an end to all
other ends! What a grand and precious
123idea, by its connexion with the most intimate
and general sentiment, the desire of
prolonging our existence! That which men
dread most, is the image of an eternal annihilation;
the absolute destruction of all
the faculties which compose their being, is
for them the downfall of the whole universe;
and they are anxious to seek for a
refuge against this overwhelming thought.
Undoubtedly, it is according to nature,
according to the degree of strength of their
religious opinions, that men seize with
more or less confidence the hopes which
they give, and the recompense they promise;
but, doubt and obscurity have a powerful
action, while supreme happiness is the
object; for even in the affairs of this life,
the grandeur of the prize offered to our
ambition excites still more our ardour, than
the probability of success. But where
should we fix, where attach the slightest
hope, if even the idea of a God, this first
prop of religion, was ever destroyed; if,
from the infancy of men, we did not present
124to their reflection, that worldly considerations
are as transient as themselves; and
if, early in life, they were humbled in their
own eyes; if men applied themselves to
stifle the internal sentiments, which inform
them of the spirituality of their souls?
Discouraged in this manner, by the first
principles of their education, slackened in
all the movements which carry thier reflections
into futurity, they would often take
retrospective views: the past recalling an irreparable
loss, would too much captivate
their attention; and their minds, in the
midst of time, would no more be in a necessary
equilibrium to enjoy the present
moment; in short, this moment, which is
not, in reality, but an imperceptible fraction,
would appear almost nothing to our eyes,
if it were not united in our contemplations,
to the unknown number of days and years
which are before us. It is then, because
that there is nothing limited in the ideas of
happiness and duration, with which religious
sentiments impress us, that our imagination
is not forced to recoil on itself, when
125it is insensibly lost in the immensity of futurity.
When, in following the course of a noble
river, a vast horizon is presented to our
view, we turn not our observation on the
sandy banks we are coasting: but if, changing
our situation, or twilight narrowing this
horizon, our attention was turned on the
barren flat we are near; then only we
should remark all its dryness and sterility.
It is the same in the career of life: when
the grand ideas of infinity elevate our
thoughts and our hopes, we are less affected
by the weariness and difficulties strewed in
our path; but, if changing our principles,
a gloomy philosophy were to obscure
our perspective, our whole attention drawn
back on the surrounding objects, we should
then very distinctly discover the void and
illusion of the satisfactions of which our
moral nature is susceptible.
Let us recollect, then, all the happiness
which we owe to religious sentiments and
126obvious reflections, which, in attracting us
continually towards the future, seem willing
to save from the present moment the purest
part of ourselves; these are, without our perceiving
it, the enchantments of the moral
world; if it were possible that, by cold reasoning,
we at length destroyed them, a sad
melancholy would ally itself to most of our
reflections; and it would seem as if a winding-sheet
had taken place of that transparent
veil, through which the prospects of
life are embellished. Undoubtedly, there
would be still some charm in the days of
youth, when the pleasures of the senses
press on us, and fill a considerable time;
but when the passions are tempered by age,
when our strength has been broken by
years, or prematurely attacked by sickness;
in short, when the time is arrived, when
men are constrained to seek, in the principles
of morality, the chief support of their
happiness; what would become of them, if
those hopes and opinions were dissipated,
which afford solid comfort and encouragement;
and if an imagination, thus active, were
127weakened, which enlivens all the objects
that anticipation can reach?
Reflect, then, with attention, on the different
consequences which would be the
fatal train of the annihilation of religious
opinions; it is not a single idea, a single
view, that men would lose; it would be,
besides, the interest and the charm of all
their desires and ambition. There is nothing
indifferent, when our actions and designs
can be in any respect attached to a
duty; there is nothing indifferent, when the
exercise and the improvement of our faculties
appear the commencement of an existence,
whose termination is unknown: but,
when this period offers itself on all sides to
our view, when we approach it every moment,
what strong illusion would be sufficient
to defend us from a sad despondency?
Strictly circumscribed in the space of life, its
limits would be in such a manner present to
our mind, to every sentiment and enterprize
perhaps, that we should be tempted to examine,
what it is which can merit, on our
128part, an assiduous research; what it is
which deserves close and painful application.
Indeed, fame itself, which is called
immortal, would no more hurry us on in
the same manner, if we had a secret conviction,
that it cannot grow, rise, subsist,
but in such portions of space, and such
durations of time, as our imagination cannot
conceive. It is necessary, that the uncertain
future be still our country, in order
that we should be able to feel that unquiet
love of a long celebrity, and those ardent
impulses towards great things which is the
salutary effect of it.
We deceive ourselves then, I think, when
we accuse religion of necessarily rendering
the business and the pleasures of the world
uninteresting; its chief pleasures, on the
contrary, are derived from religion, from
those ideas of eternity, which it presents to
our mind, which serve to sustain the enchantments
of hope, and the sense of those
duties of which our moral nature is ingeniously
composed.
129Religious opinions are perfectly adapted
to our nature, to our weaknesses and perfections;
they come to our succour in our
real difficulties, and in those which the abuse
of our foresight creates. But in what is
grand and elevated in our nature, it sympathizes
most: for, if men are animated by
noble thoughts; if they respect their intelligence,
their chief ornament; if they are
interested about the dignity of their nature,
they will fly, with transport, to bow before
religion, which ennobles their faculties,
preserves their strength of mind, and which,
through its sentiments, unites them to Him,
whose power astonishes their understanding.
It is then that, considering themselves as
an emanation of the Infinite Being, the
commencement of all things, they will not
let themselves be drawn aside by a philosophy,
whose sad lessons tend to persuade
us, that reason, liberty, all this immaterial
essence of ourselves, is the mere result of a
fortuitous combination, and an harmony
without intelligence.
130We have never perhaps observed, with
sufficient attention, the different kinds of
happiness which would be destroyed, or at
least sensibly weakened, if this discouraging
doctrine was ever propagated.
What would then become of the most
sublime of all sentiments, that of admiration,
if, instead of the grand view of the universe,
far from reviving the idea of a Supreme
Being, we retraced only a vast existence,
but without design, cause, or destination;
and if the astonishment of our minds was
itself but one of the spontaneous accidents of
blind matter?
What would become of the pleasure
which we find in the developement, exercise,
and progress of our faculties, if this intelligence,
of which we love to glory, was
only the result of chance, and if all our ideas
were but a mere obedience to the eternal law
of motion; if our liberty was but a fiction,
and if we had not, if I may say so, any possession
of ourselves?
131What would become then of that active
spirit of curiosity, whose charm excites us to
observe continually the wonders with which
we are surrounded, and which inspires, at the
same time, the desire of penetrating, in some
measure, into the mystery of our existence,
and the secret of our origin? Certainly it
would little avail us to study the course of
nature, if this science could only teach us to
comprehend the afflicting particulars of our
mechanical slavery: a prisoner cannot be
pleased to draw the form of his fetters, or
reckon the links of his chains.
But how beautiful is the world, when it
is represented to us as the result of a single
and grand thought, and when we find every
where the stamp of an eternal intelligence;
and how pleasing to live with the sentiments
of astonishment and adoration deeply
impressed on our hearts!
But what a subject of glory are the endowments
of the mind, when we can consider
them as a participation of a sublime
132nature, of which God alone is the perfect
model. And how delightful then to yield
to the ambition of elevating ourselves still
more, by exercising our thoughts and improving
all our faculties!
In short, how many charms has the observation
of nature, when, at every new discovery,
we believe we advance a step towards
an acquaintance with that exalted
wisdom which has prescribed laws to the
universe, and maintains it in harmony! It
is then, and only then, that the study is
truly interesting, and the progress of knowledge
becomes an increase of happiness. Yes,
under the influence of opinions, arising from
the notions of materialists, all is languishing
in our curiosity, all is mere instinct in our
admiration, all is fictitious in the sentiments
which we have of ourselves; but with the idea
of a God, all is lively, all is reasonable and
true: in short, this happy and prolific idea
appears as necessary to the moral nature of
man, as heat is to plants and to all the vegetable
world. You may think, perhaps, that
133in examining the influence of religion on
happiness, I have dwelt on several considerations,
which are not of equal importance to
all men; there are, indeed, some more particularly
adapted to that part of society,
whose minds are improved by education;
but I am very far from wishing to divert a
moment my attention from the numerous
class of the inhabitants of the earth, whose
happiness and misery arises from a simple
idea, proportioned to the extent of their interests
and reflections.
Those who seem to have a more pressing
and constant need of the assistance of religion,
have been left by the misfortunes of
their parents to the wide world, devoid of
property, and deprived also of those resources
which depend on education. This
class of men, condemned to hard labour,
are, as it were, confined in a rough and uniformly
barren path, where every day resembles
the last, where they have not any confused
expectations, or flattering illusion to
divert them: they know that there is a wall
134of separation between them and fortune; and
if they carried their views in life forward,
they would only discover the dreadful state any
infirmity would reduce them to; and the deplorable
situation to which they might be exposed,
by the cruel neglect which attends old
age. With what transport, in this situation,
would they not catch at the comfortable hopes
which religion presents! With what satisfaction
would they not learn, that after this probationary
state, where so much disproportion
overwhelmed them, there would come a
time of equality! What would be their
complaints, if they were to renounce a sentiment
which still conforms itself, for their
advantage, to a general idea, the only one,
in short, of which they can make use in all
events and circumstances of life. It is
God’s will, they say to themselves, and this
first thought supports their resignation:
God will recompense you, God will return
it to you, say they to others, when they receive
alms; and these words remind them,
that the God of the rich and powerful is
135also theirs; and that far from being indifferent
to their fate, He deigns Himself to
discharge their obligations.
How many other popular expressions
continually recal the same sentiment of confidence
and consolation. It is this continual
relation of the poor with the Deity which
raises them in their own eyes, and which
prevents their sinking under the weight of
contempt with which they are oppressed,
and gives them sometimes courage to resist
the pride of earthly greatness. What grander
effect could be produced by an idea so simple?
Thus, among the different things
which characterise religion, I remark, above
all, what seems more particularly the seal of
a divine hand; it is, that the moral advantages,
of which religion is the source, resembling
the grand blessings of nature, belong
equally to all men; and as the sun, in
the distribution of its rays, observes neither
rank nor fortune, in the same way those
comforting sentiments, which are connected
with the conception of a Supreme Being,
136and the hopes united to it, become the property
of the poor as well as the rich, of the
weak as well as the powerful, and can be
as securely enjoyed under the lowly roof of
a cottage, as in a superb palace. It is civil
laws which increase, or give a sanction to
the inequality of possessions; and it is religion
which sweetens the bitterness of this
hard disproportion.
We could not avoid feeling a compassion
as painful as well founded, if, in considering
attentively the fate of the greater number
of men, we supposed them all at one
stroke deprived of the only thought which
supported their courage; they would no
more have a God to confide their sorrows
with; they would no more attend his ordinances
to search for the sentiments of resignation
and tranquillity; they would have no
motive for raising their looks to heaven;
their eyes would be cast down, fixed for ever
on this abode of grief, of death, and eternal
silence. Then despair would even stifle
their groans, and all their reflections preying
137on themselves, would only serve to corrode
their hearts; then those tears which they have
a satisfaction in shedding, and which are attracted
by the tender persuasion, that there
exists some where commiseration and goodness,
these consoling tears would no more
moisten their eyes.
Who has not seen, sometimes, those veteran
soldiers, who are prostrate here and
there on the pavement of a sanctuary, erected
in the midst of their august retreat? Their
hair, which time has whitened; their forehead
marked with honourable scars; that tottering
step, which age only could impress on
them, all inspire at first respect; but by
what sentiments are we not affected, when
we see them lift up and join with difficulty
their weak hands, to invoke the God of the
universe, of their heart and mind; when
we see them forget, in this interesting devotion,
their present pains and past griefs;
when we see them rise with a countenance
more serene, and expressive of the tranquillity
and hope devotion has infused through
138their souls. Complain not in those moments,
you who judge of the happiness of
this world only from its enjoyments; their
looks are humbled, their body trembles,
and death awaits their steps; but this inevitable
end, whose image only terrifies us,
they see coming without alarm; they,
through religion, have approached Him who
is good, who can do every thing, whom none
ever loved without receiving comfort.
Come and contemplate this sight, you who
despise religion, you who term yourselves
superior; come and see the real value of
your pretended knowledge for promoting
happiness. Change the fate of men, and
give them all, if you can, some portion of
the enjoyments of life, or respect a sentiment
which serves them to repulse the injuries
of fortune; and since even the policy
of tyrants has never dared to destroy it,
since their power would be insufficient to
enable them to succeed in the savage attempt,
you, to whom nature has given superior
endowments, be not more cruel,
more inexorable than they; or if, by a pitiless
139doctrine, you wish to deprive the old,
the sick, and the indigent, of the only idea
of happiness which they can apply to, go
from prison to prison, and to those dreary
cells, where the wretched prisoners struggle
with their chains, and shut with your
own hands, if you have the heart to do it,
the only aperture through which any ray
of light can reach them.
It is not, however, a single class of society
which derives an habitual assistance
from religion, it is all those who have to
complain of the abuse of authority, of
public injustice, and the different vicissitudes
of their fate; it is the innocent man
who is condemned, the virtuous man who
is slandered, the man who has once acted
inconsistently, and been censured with too
much rigour; all those, in short, who,
convinced of the purity of their own conscience,
seek for, above all, a secret witness
of their intentions, and an enlightened
judge of their conduct.
140A man of an exalted character, endowed
with sensibility of heart, experiences
also the necessity of forming to himself an
image of an unknown Being, to which he
can unite all the ideas of perfection which
fill his imagination; it is to Him that he
refers those different sentiments, which are
useless amidst the corruptions which surround
him; it is in God alone that he can
find an inexhaustible subject of astonishment
and adoration; and with Him alone
can he renew and purify his sentiments,
when he is wearied with the sight of the
vices of the world, and the habitual return
of the same passions. In short, at every
instant the happy idea of a God softens and
embellishes our path through life, and by it
we associate ourselves with delight to all the
beauties of nature; by it every thing animated
enters into communication with us;
yes, the noise of the wind, the murmurs of
the water, the peaceable agitation of plants,
all serves to support, or melt our souls,
provided that our thoughts can rise to a
universal cause, provided we can discover
141every where the works of Him whom we
love, provided we can distinguish the vestiges
of His footsteps and the traces of His
intentions; and, above all, if we can suppose,
that we ourselves contribute to the
display of His power, and the splendour of
His goodness.
But it is principally over the enjoyments
of friendship that piety spreads a new charm;
bounds, limits, cannot agree with the sentiment
which is as infinite as thought, it
would not subsist, at least would be troubled
with continual anxiety; we should not
consider without terror the revolution of
years and the rapid course of time, if those
benevolent opinions, which enlarge for us
the future, did not come to our assistance.
Thus, when we find ourselves separated
from the objects of our affection, lonely
meditations bring them back to aid the general
idea of happiness, which, more or
less, distinctly terminates our view; then
the tender melancholy, in which one
is lost, is changed into pleasing emotions:
142and you have, above all, need of those precious
opinions, you, who, timid in a bustling
world, or discouraged by disappointments,
find yourself a solitary wanderer on
the earth, because you partake not of the
passions which agitate the greater part of
mankind! You want a friend, and you only
see pecuniary associations; you want a
comforter, and you only see the ambitious,
strangers to all those who have not power
or a distinguished reputation; a tender confident
is at least necessary, and the active
scenes of society disperses the affections and
diminishes every interest. In short, when
you have this friend, this confident, this
comforter; when you have acquired it by
the most tender union; when you live in a
son, a husband, or a cherished wife, what
other idea, but that of a God, can come
to your relief, when the frightful image of a
separation presents itself to your thoughts?
It is, indeed, in such moments that we
embrace with transport all those opinions
which tend to foster the idea of continuity
and duration? How gladly then we lend an
143ear to those words of comfort which are so
perfectly consonant with the desires and the
wants of our soul! What association of
ideas, so frightful as that of the eternal annihilation
of life and love? How can we
unite to that soft division of interests and of
sentiments, to that charm of our days;
how can we unite to so much of existence
and happiness, the internal persuasion and
habitual image of a death without hope, a
destruction without return? How can we
offer only the idea of oblivion to those affectionate
minds, who have centred all their
self-love, all their ambition in the object of
their esteem and tenderness; and who, after
having renounced themselves, are, as it
were, deposited entirely in the bosom of
another, to subsist there by the same breath
of life and the same destiny? In short, near
the tomb, which, perhaps, they will one
day bedew with their tears, how can they
pronounce the overwhelming words, forever!—forever!—Oh!
horrors of horrors,
both for the mind and feelings! and if it be
necessary that the contemplations of a
144man of feeling approach a moment to the
frightful confines, let a benevolent cloud at
least cover the dark abyss! Tears and sorrow
still afford some comfort, when we
give them to a beloved shade, when we can
mix with our griefs the name of a God,
and when this name appears to you the cement
of all nature: but if in the universe
all was deaf to our voice; if no echoes
were to repeat our plaints; if the shades of
eternal darkness had hid from us the object of
our love, and if they were advancing to
drag us into the same night; if he is the
most unhappy being, he who survives, and
cannot even hope, that what death has severed
will again be united; if, when his
whole soul was filled with the recollection
of a loved object, he could not say, he is
in some place, his heart so affectionate, his
soul so pure and heavenly waits for me, and
calls me perhaps to be near that unknown
Being, whom we have, with common consent,
adored; and if, instead of a thought
so dear, it was necessary, without any doubt,
to consider the earth as a sepulchre forever
145shut—my heart dies within me—unable to
contend with the dreadful images, the universe
itself seems to dissolve, and overwhelm
us in its downfall. O source of so many
hopes, sublime idea of a God! abandon
not the man who has sensibility; Thou art
his courage, Thou art his futurity, Thou
art his life; leave him not desolate, and,
above all, defend him from the ascendency
of a barren and fatal philosophy, which
would afflict his heart by pretending to comfort
it.
Well, I make another effort, and I address
myself to you, who boast of being enlightened
by a fresh ray of wisdom. I am
lost in the most profound grief; a father, a
mother, who guided me by their counsels,
and watched over me by their tenderness,
these protecting parents have just been taken
from me; a son, a daughter, both my comfort
and pride, have been cut off in the
prime of youth; a faithful companion,
whose words, sentiments, and actions, were
the support of my life, has vanished from
146my arms;—a moment of strength remains
with me, I come to you, ye philosophers;
what have you to say?—“Seek for dissipation,
turn your thoughts to some other
object, an abyss not to be fathomed separates
thee for ever from the objects of
thy tenderness; and these recollections,
which pierce thee through with so many
sorrows, they are only a form of vegetation,
the last play of organized matter.”
Alas! have you ever loved, and can you
pronounce tranquilly these cruel words!
Banish far from me such consolations, I
dread them more than my anguish. And
thou, O daughter of heaven, lovely and
mild religion, what wouldst thou say?
Hope, hope; “what God gave thee—He
can again restore.” What a difference
between these two languages! One abases,
the other exalts us! It is left to men to
choose, amongst their different guides, or
rather to determine, whether they prefer
darkness to light, death to life; whether
they prefer blighting winds to refreshing
dews; the frost of winter to the charms of
147spring; and the insensible stone to the most
brilliant gifts of animated nature.
I will say it: the world, without the
idea of a God, would be only a desert, embellished
by a few delusions;—yet man, disenchanted
by the light of reason, would find
nothing throughout but subjects of sadness.
I have seen them, the dreams of ambition,
the allurements of fame, and the vain shews
of grandeur; and even when the illusion
was most dazzling, my heart always retired
into itself, and was attracted to an idea more
grand, to a consolation more substantial; I
have experienced, that the idea of the existence
of a Supreme Being threw a charm
over every circumstance of life; I have
found, that this sentiment alone was able to
inspire men with true dignity: for every
thing which is merely personal is of little
value, all that places some an inch high
above others; it is necessary, in order to
have any reason to glory, that, at the same
time we exalt ourselves, we elevate human
nature; we must refer it to that sublime intelligence,
148which seems to have dignified it
with some of its attributes. We then hardly
perceive those trivial distinctions which
are attached to transitory things, on which
vanity exercises her sway; it is then that
we leave to this queen of the world her rattle
and toys, and that we search elsewhere
another portion; it is then also that virtue,
exalted sentiments, and grand views, appear
the only glory of which man ought to be
jealous.
CHAP. VI. The same Subject continued. The Influence of Virtue on Happiness.
149
It is not sufficient to have demonstrated,
that religion, so necessary to feeling
minds, agrees perfectly with the moral nature
of men; it is still necessary to observe,
that the habitual exercise of virtue, enjoined
as a duty in the name of God, is not in opposition
with happiness; and after having
considered a truth so important, I will
prove, that it is not contrary to what has
been said in the first chapter of this work,
on the impossibility of making men attentive
to public order, only by the motive of
personal interest.
We cannot deny, that virtue often
obliges us to conquer our appetites, and
struggle with our passions; but if these
conflicts, and the victory which attends
150them, lead to more solid and durable satisfactions,
than those which folly and vice
portrays the image of, they would misconceive
the restrictions of morality, who perpetually
united the idea of self-denial with
that of a sacrifice.
We cannot fix our attention on the various
objects of desire which occupy the
thoughts of men, without seeing clearly,
that if they abandoned themselves, unrestrained,
to all their wild propensities, they would
often stray far from the state of happiness
which forms the object of their wishes.
Any of the blessings, strewed here and there
in our path, cannot fill the void of life. Are
they the gratifications of the senses which
captivate us? Their duration is determined
by our weakness; and we cannot break loose
from the immutable limits opposed by nature.
Are they the advantages dependent
on opinion that we look for, such as honour
and praise; or the exterior splendour, which
fortune gives? You will soon perceive, that
quickly after they are obtained the charm is
151flown; they resemble Proteus in the fable, who
only appeared a God at a distance. Men then
have more need than is supposed of an interest
independent of their senses and imagination;
and this interest we find in the duties
morality inculcates and establishes.
In all times, in all circumstances, we have
a choice between good and evil: thus, virtue
may be continually in a state of action,
and we may find the application of it even
in the most apparently indifferent relations of
life, because virtue only has the privilege
of connecting little things to a great object;
and that it can only be encouraged by conscience,
which, in accompanying all our actions
and meditations, seems to augment our
existence, and procure those satisfactions
which are not known to the crowd who do
not act from principle.
Sensual pleasures, the desires of vanity,
the longings of ambition, would soon extinguish
themselves, if they were not fed
by the continual activity of society, which
152produces new scenes, and displays every moment
some changes of decoration. Virtue,
satisfied with its views, has not need of a
succession of similar desires; its paths are
varied, but the end is ever the same.
We cannot search for the enjoyments of
life in the imaginary advantages of opinion,
without allowing others to construct the
laws on which our happiness is founded;
and of course discord must result, which leaves
us a prey to every kind of emotion. Virtue
has not any associates in her counsels, she
judges herself of all that is good; and in this
respect a virtuous man is the most independent
of all beings, for it is from himself
alone that he receives commands, and expects
approbation. Yes, the obscure man,
who does good in secret, is more master of
his destiny, than the being ever will be who
seems loaded with all the favours of fortune,
and has need, that fashion and transient
gratifications come to determine his taste,
and give laws to his vanity, to enable him
to enjoy them
153The little passions of the world, trying to
render us happy, lead us on from one illusion
to another, and the last boundary always
appears at a distance. Virtue, very different,
has its recompenses within itself: it is not
in events nor in uncertain success that it
places contentment; it is even in our resolution,
in the calmness which accompanies
it, and the secret sentiment which precedes it.
Recollection ever composes the principal
happiness of virtue, whilst worldly vanity is
tormented by the remembrance of what is
gone for ever; and with regard to the passions
in general, the past is but a gloomy
shadow, out of which proceed, from time
to time, sorrow and remorse.
The intervals which occur between the
starts of violent passions, are almost always
filled by sadness and apathy; we all know,
according to the laws of nature, that lively
and ardent sensations produce languor the
moment the tumult is over. Virtue, in the
enjoyment of those pleasures peculiar to itself,
154knows nothing of those irregular emotions,
because all its principles are firm, and it
acts round its own centre; besides, it also
invites us continually to set a just value on
that happiness which is most proper for us;
it dictates its first laws in the bosom of domestic
life, and employs all its strength to
sustain, by the ties of duty, our most rational
and simple affections.
Virtue, which is the offspring of religion,
is of the greatest use in delivering men
from the tormenting solicitude of doubt, by
presenting a general system of conduct; and
above all, by marking fixed points to direct
them, by telling them what to love, choose,
and do. Thus, whilst men, carried away
by their imagination, continually allow that
they are deceived by phantoms, and lend
the most glowing colours to those which
have just escaped them, virtue sets no value
but on what it possesses, and knows not regret.
It would seem, at the first glance,
that the desires and caprices of the imagination
cannot agree with any kind of restraint;
155however, it is not less true, that these trifling
forerunners of our will have need of a
guide, and often of a master; our first inclinations
and sentiments are frequently uncertain,
weak, and wavering; it is of consequence
to our happiness, that this trembling
stalk should be fixed and supported;
and such is the service virtue renders to the
human mind.
We see not any uniformity in the conduct
of those who are not influenced by motives
of duty; they have too many things to regulate,
too many to decide about every instant,
when convenience is their only guide:
to simplify the management of ourselves, we
should submit to the government of a principle,
which may be easily applied to most
of our deliberations.
In short, virtue has this great advantage,
that it finds its happiness in a kind of respect
for the rights and claims of the different
members of the community, and that
all its sentiments seem to unite themselves
156to the general harmony. The passions, on
the contrary, are almost always hostile; the
vain man desires that others should grace his
triumphs; the proud wishes them to feel
their inferiority; the ambitious, that they
keep clear of his pursuit; the imperious,
that they bend to him. It is the same of
the different competitions, which an excessive
love of praise, high reputation, or
fortune, gives birth to; in the path they
choose every one would wish to go alone,
or advance before all the rest, and occupied
about their own interest, they clash inconsiderately
with those of others. Virtue, very
different in following its course, fears neither
rivals nor competitors; it does not
jostle with any one, the road is spacious,
and all may walk at their ease; it is an orderly
alliance, of which morality is the
knot, drawing together, by the same motives
and hopes held in common, that chain of
duties and sentiments which unite the virtues
of men to the ideal model of all perfection.
157Virtue, which guards us from the snares
of our senses, and checks our blind desires, is
besides the basis of the most precious wisdom;
but it is not the interest of a day,
or the pleasures of a moment, that it protects,
it is the whole of life, that it takes
under its superintendency; it is, to speak
metaphorically, the vindicator of futurity,
the representative of duration, and becomes,
to the feelings, what foresight is to the
mind. We must then, with respect to private
manners, consider virtue as a prudent
friend, taught by the experience of all ages,
who directs our steps, and never lets the
flambeau waver, whose salutary light ought
to guide them. Our tumultuous passions
dispute the honour of partaking the government:
it is necessary a master should
assign to each its proper limits, one
who can keep in peace all these petty domestic
tyrants; which reminds us of the
image of Ulysses, arriving suddenly in the
midst of the hundred kings who had taken
possession of his palace.
158Virtue, some will say, severe in its judgments,
and austere in its forms, would it
not deprive us of the greatest happiness, the
pleasure of being beloved? I reply, that
virtue, in its most improved state, has not
this character; I represent it to myself as
a just sentiment of order, far from banishing
all other comforts, it leads to them:
thus, benevolence and forbearance, which
agree so well with human weakness; the
social spirit so consistent with our nature;
urbanity in discourse and manner; that
amiable expression of a heart, which
seeks to unite itself with others; all these
qualities, very far from being strangers
to virtue, are its attendants and brightest
ornament.
Virtue allies itself to all the ideas which
can give extent to our mind, and early in life
accustoms us to discern relations, and to
sacrifice frequently our present affections to
distant considerations; it is, of all our sentiments,
that which carries us farthest out
159of ourselves, and consequently has the nearest
resemblance with abstract thinking. It
is then, through the assistance of virtue,
that a man acquires all his knowledge of
his strength and all his grandeur. Vice, on
the contrary, concentres us in a little space;
it seems to be conscious of its own deformity,
and fears all that surrounds it; it endeavours
to fix on a single object, on a single
moment, and would wish to have power to
draw into a point our whole existence.
I must still add, that virtue, by uniting a
motive to all our actions, and by directing
towards an end all our sentiments, habituates
our mind to order, and justness of
conception; and prevents our wandering
in too great a space: thus I have often
thought, that it was not only by his vices,
that an immoral man is dangerous in the
administration of public affairs; we ought
to fear him also as unable to comprehend
a whole, and for his want of capacity
to rally all his thoughts and direct them
towards any general principle: every kind
160of harmony is unknown to him, every rule
is become a burthen; he is busy, but only
by starts; and it is by accident that a man,
always versatile, stumbles on what is right.
It may then truly be said, that morality
serves as ballast to our sentiments, its aid
enables us to go on without being agitated
continually by the caprices of our imagination,
without being obliged to turn back at
the first appearance of an obstacle.
Virtue then enlarges the mind, gives dignity
to the character, and invests it with
every thing becoming. Of all the qualities
of men, the most rare, the most apt to
create respect, is, that elevation of thought,
sentiment, and manners; that majestic consistency
of character which truth alone can
preserve, but which the least exaggeration,
the most trivial affectation, would disconcert
or banish. This resembles not pride,
and still less vanity, as one of its ornaments
is, that it never seeks for the homage
of others: the man endowed with real dignity,
161is placed above even his judges; he
accounts not with them, he lives under the
government of his conscience, and, proud
of such a noble ruler, he does not wish for
any other dependence: but as this grandeur
is entirely within himself, it ceases to exist,
when he dictates to others what he expects
from them; it can only be restrained in its
just limits by virtues which do not pretend
to dazzle.
It is to the same principle, that men owe
that noble respect for virtue, the most
graceful ornament of a great soul; they owe
to it also that simplicity in thinking and
speaking, that happy habit of a conscience
not in want of being on its guard. A man
truly honest considers disguise as a detractor,
and desires to appear as he really is; it is
not his interest to conceal his weaknesses, for
in a generous heart they are almost always
united to something good; and perhaps
frankness would have become the policy of
his mind, if it had not been one of the qualities
of his character.
162There is, in every virtue, a kind of beauty
which charms us without reflection: our
moral sense, when it is improved by education,
is pleased with that social harmony
which the sentiments of justice preserves.
These enjoyments are unknown to men,
whose selfishness renders them insensible to
every kind of concord, and they appear to
me to deserve our contempt in one essential
point; it is, that they profit by the respect
others have for order, without being willing
to subject themselves to the same rules,
and without declaring publicly their intention;
it seems to me, that, in this view,
a defect of morality is indeed a breach of
the laws of hospitality.
In short, talents, those faculties of the
mind which belong more immediately to
nature, can never be applied to great things
without the aid of morality; there is no
other way of uniting the interest of men,
and of attaining their love and respect. Honesty
resembles the ancient idioms, according
to which you must know how to speak, when
163you wish to be understood by the generality;
and a language is never well known,
but by constant practice. The understanding
is sometimes sufficient to acquire
an ascendency in circumscribed relations;
you there take men one by one; and you
often engage them by proportioning yourself
to their depth: but on a vast theatre,
and principally in public administration,
where we have need of captivating men in
a body, it is necessary to search for a band
which will embrace all; and it is only by a
union of talents and virtue that this chain
can be formed. And when I see the homage
paid by a nation to virtuous characters;
when I remark the almost instinctive
judgment which assists in discerning
them; when I see that they praise and
love only what they can connect to pure
virtue, and noble intention, I return to my
favourite sentiment, and believe I recognize
in these emotions the stamp of a hand
divine.
164After having tried to give a feeble sketch
of the various recompenses and different
satisfactions which seem to appertain to regularity
of principles, and propriety of conduct,
you will perhaps ask, if you have not
a right to conclude from these reflections,
that we can attach men to morality by the
mere motive of personal interest; I have
already mentioned, that I intended to answer
such an objection, and now is the time
to do it.
Virtue, in its most improved state; virtue,
such as we have just represented, is
not the work of a moment; it is necessary
that it should be called forth and strengthened
by degrees; but it would be nipped when
it first begins to unfold itself, if we destroyed
the simple opinions which serve to
educate it, if we overturned the only end
which can be perceived by all minds; and
if we weakened the sentiments which connect
it with those who respect the laws of
morality, and who promote this cultivation
by their commendations and esteem.
165Besides, it is not virtue only, but virtue
united to different motives, which contributes
to our happiness. This observation
is very important, and with great facility
you may be made to feel the full force
of it. Employment is generally reckoned
the surest source of agreeable impressions
of which we are susceptible; but its
charm would vanish, if it did not lead to
some recompense, if it did not show, in
perspective, an increase of wealth, an enjoyment
for our self-love, a chance for fame,
or some other advantages of which we are
desirous. Vainly, say some, that the exercise
of our faculties is of itself a pleasure;
certainly, because that it offers to our view
a train of prospects which succeed each
other. But there must always be a strong
motive to direct us to the right road, and
make us set off; our bark must be driven
by the wind; in short, every kind of labour
requires encouragement, although this
labour, proportioned to our strength, may
be more favourable to happiness then sloth
and idleness; and this truth would strike
166us still more, if we had ability to analyze a
sentiment with sufficient attention, to distinguish
clearly the happiness which is annexed
to action and employment, from that
which necessarily relates to the end and to
the motive of that action.
The reflections, which I have just
made, may be applied to virtue; we can
easily, in studying its different effects, perceive,
that it is an excellent guide in the
course of life; but we discover, at the same
time, that it has need, as well as employment,
of a spur, a simple encouragement on
a par with our understanding: it is in religion
that virtue finds this encouragement,
and we shall not be able to separate it from
the motives and hopes it presents, without
disconcerting every connexion it has with
human happiness.
It will be easy to perceive the great
benefit which must arise from morality;
but at the same time it must be remarked,
that to follow its dictates with
confidence and firmness, knowledge and
167strong powers of reflection are necessarily
required in the study of so compounded
a truth: we are then in want of a
motive to excite our first effort, which
subjects us to self-denial, and determines us
to struggle with courage against the dominion
of the present moment.
In short, even when, by the art of sophistry,
some philosophers have, at length,
thrown into confusion the true principles
of order and happiness; when, by the force
of address, they have led us to doubt about
the kind and degree of power which it is
necessary to assign to religion, it should not,
however, be the legislators of the nation
who ought to lend an ear to their subtle
distinctions.
Metaphysical sentiments and ideas are
not proper for statesman, but in their own
defence; to assist them to guard themselves
from the ascendency of brilliant errors, and
to confirm the respect due to useful truths:
but when they have to guide minds, when
168they wish to excite activity, it is always, if
they are wise, the most simple idea that
they will make use of; and they will be
very careful not to despise those habitual
principles, to which time, still more then
knowledge, has given a sanction. These
are so many lessons, which long experience
seems to have gradually disengaged from
every thing foreign to natural morality and
the secret sentiments of men.
CHAP. VII. On Religious Opinions, in their Relation with Sovereigns.
169
Many nations, either by choice, or
necessity, have deposited their wills
in the hands of an individual; and have
thus erected a perpetual monument to the
spirit of discord, and injustice, which has
so frequently reigned amongst men. It is
true, that from time to time they have
wished to recollect that they were capable
of knowing themselves their true interest;
but monarchs mistrusting their inconstancy,
have taken care to fortify the springs of
authority, by surrounding themselves with
standing armies; and they have only left
them the power of being disgusted with
slavery: soldiers and taxes have supported
each other; and through the assistance of
this corresponding action, they have become
masters and directors of every thing. How
170much good and evil depend on them? We
then necessarily wish them to possess a vigorous
morality, proportioned to their immense
duties; but what force will your morality
have, if they perceive at last, that it is not
supported by a divine sanction; if they
consider it as a human institution, which
they have power to break, and which they
are in the habit of modifying? At least they
will have the liberty, like other men, to
examine if their private interest agrees with
that of the public, and their conduct will
depend on the result of this calculation.
I will acknowledge, that at the point of
elevation, where kings find themselves
placed, they ought not to be acquainted
with those passions which proceed from our
petty competitions; but how many other
sentiments have they not to repress? And
with what celerity it is necessary to do it;
since they do not experience any contradiction,
they are not, like us, obliged to reflect
and consider! Besides, though sovereigns are
supposed to be sheltered by their situation,
171from the irritations of self-love, and from
the desires of fortune and advancement,
they are not, however, disengaged from
every passion of this kind; it is towards
other princes that they feel them; and envy,
ambition, and revenge, become often very
dangerous, as they associate with these passions
those of the nation they govern, by
means of a war. It is then that, freed from
religious ties, and sure of not accounting
with any body, they would find morality a
very ingenious invention, to render the
maintenance of public order more easy, and
to preserve the subordination which secures
their power; but, would not acknowledge
such a master for themselves, and would dispense
with bowing to its dictates.
You will say, undoubtedly, that a virtuous
king would be recompensed by the
applause of his subjects: but I have already
shown, that the influence of public
opinion would be very weak, if the principles
of morality, which serve to guide this
opinion, were not supported by religion.
172We should also observe, that elogiums and
applause, homage so encouraging to private
men, have not an equal power over princes,
who cannot, like individuals, consider this
suffrage as an earnest, or forerunner of exaltation;
it is by the continual view of the
advantages and triumphs of others, that
the desire of respect and distinction is continually
kept alive; and it may, perhaps,
proceed a little from the stimulation of
envy, or at least from those jarring pretentions,
and from those struggles of self-love,
of which society alone is the theatre.
Princes without rivals are not subject to the
same impressions; and the flattery they
have so early imbibed, and the praises
which are lavished on them from the simple
motive of hope, all serve to render them
less sensible to deserved applause; in short,
this exaggerated praise soon becomes a dull
monotony, which extinguishes, by its uniformity,
that emulation which a just homage
sometimes inspires. There would be
then great danger in reposing too much on
the power of public opinion, if we were to
173consider it as a check able to replace with
princes the compressing force of religion.
I must now make an essential remark:
those who surround a monarch, often mislead
his judgment by the nature and the
application of the elogiums which they lavish
on him. The praise of men, in a
monarchy, always has a taint of slavery:
thus, in such countries, a look, a word from
the prince, which seems to efface, for an instant,
the distance that separates him from
his subjects, delights them; and their enthusiasm
in those moments serves to persuade
the monarch, that it is sufficient for
him to smile, to render his people happy:
dangerous illusion, sad effect of servility:
in short, in consequence of the character
which is impressed by an habitual
yoke, men are pleased with exalting the
power of him to whom they are obliged to
submit; they love to see their servile companions
multiplied; and as the greater part
of them have seldom any access to the
prince, vanity persuades them, that in affecting
174to partake of the royal grandeur,
they contract a kind of familiarity with it;
therefore, without reflecting whether it will
be more in the power of the sovereign to
make them happy, when, by enlarging his
dominions, he shall have more subjects, and
of course more duties to fulfil, they celebrate,
above all, the conquering warrior,
and thus invite princes to prefer the pursuit
of military glory to every other; and, as
the multitude can quickly comprehend this
kind of merit; as the gaining of a battle
is a simple idea, easily conceived by men of
every condition and turn of mind, it happens,
by this reasoning, that these triumphs
are the most highly extolled; and even that
men, on account of them, can excuse every
other failure, broken treaties, violated oaths,
alliances abandoned—In short, such is the
mad folly of our praise, that the tranquillity
of the state, the repose of the people, the
mild benefits of peace, appear no more than
the last consequence of the labours and the
success of a monarch; and even history frequently
represents this fortunate time, as
175the days of obscurity in which heroes
of blood and carnage are educated; kings,
discontented with their destiny, are warriors
through ambition, and happy by the victories,
to which we annex our first honours,
and the most noble wreaths of
fame.
It is thus, however, that the prevailing
opinion, and the rumour of renown, can
sometimes deceive princes, though inconsistent
with the instructions of morality
and the legislation of yore, which
point out the true interest of the people
as the first object of a sovereign’s anxious
solicitude; and instead of a sounding name,
and dazzling qualities, enforce those requisite
to form the guardian and protector of the felicity
of the public; duties of a vast extent,
and which are discharged by the secret labours
of paternal vigilance, still more than
by the noise of the drum and the instruments
of destruction.
176Let us consider, however, the influence
the opinion of the world will have on sovereigns,
in directing only our views towards
the interior functions of administration.
An essential observation presents itself at
first to the mind: it is, that the thirst
for glory is especially felt when a great
abuse is to be reformed, and when we can
hope to make regularity succeed to confusion;
but when this task is fulfilled, and
that it is only necessary to preserve and support
what is good, the love of renown has
not sufficient aliment, and it is then that
the virtue of princes becomes the only faithful
guardian of the public interest. A
reign, such as we have formed an idea of,
would carry away from the following ones
every subject of dazzling splendour; and it
would be necessary that new troubles and
fears re-animated the sentiment of admiration,
to give it its ancient ascendency and
original force.
We should be able also, and this picture
would be very different, to figure
177to ourselves a period, when, by the successive
degradation of character, the opinion
of the public would no longer indicate
the way to fame, nor resound to
excite ambition; the recompenses it offers
would not be a motive sufficiently powerful
to influence men. Thus, in a country, in
a metropolis, where covetousness seemed triumphant,
where every body would appear
to pursue that fortune which is only acquired
by intrigue, and the vices of those
who bestow it, respect for the real interest
of the people, and attention to lighten their
burthens, would no longer purchase renown.
In like manner, in a country where despotism
reigns, and the people are accustomed
to prostrate themselves before power, they
would acknowledge no other idol; we should
not there be able to acquire a contemporary
fame by elevation of character, by tempering
with wisdom the exercise of authority,
and allowing the citizens to enjoy that degree
of freedom, which does not degenerate
into licentiousness. It is then morality,
and morality alone, which comes at
178all times, and in all circumstances, to resist
the revolutions of habit and opinion, of
which history furnishes examples, and of
which men are ever susceptible.
I ought not to neglect another very important
consideration: princes, by the elevation
of their rank, and influence on the national
manners, find that they are in that singular
situation, where one is more called to direct
the reigning opinion, than to receive instruction
and encouragement from it: thus
we are impelled to wish, that a monarch
should have principles which flow from his
heart, and which depend on his reflections,
from which he may be able to derive, at all
times, a force properly his own, a natural
courage. It is necessary for a prince to investigate
and decide on his own conduct;
and a sublime morality should nourish in
his heart an ideal model of perfection, with
which he can continually compare the opinions
of the world and the private judgment
of his conscience.
179In short, and this last reflection which I
have made will apply, in a general manner,
to the preceding remarks; the opinion of
the public, the just complaints of the people,
are sometimes a long while in reaching
the prince; they ring in the kingdom before
he hears the rumour; they wander
round the palace, but the whispers do not
reach him; vanity, pride, and every vice
excludes them; the old courtiers sneer, and
the insignificant pursuers of credit or favour
amuse themselves by indulging their
turn for ridicule. The ministers, who
are followed by the clamour, are often importuned
by it; and when it reaches their
master, find some method to weaken its
impression, attributing these commotions to
private passions, and giving the name of
cabal to a just indignation against vice.
Yes, such is the unhappy fate of princes,
that the peace of a state is often tottering,
before the opinion of the world reaches
them, and discovers the truth; a new consideration,
very proper to convince us, that
the power of opinion can never equal in
180utility those grand principles of morality,
which, by the aid of religion, are fixed,
in the hearts of men, to give them laws,
without distinction of birth, rank, or dignity.
But if, from sovereigns, we carry our
views to those who share their confidence,
we shall perceive still more the absolute
necessity of an active and governing morality.
Ministers, without virtue, are more
to be feared than sovereigns indifferent to
public good; newly come out of the crowd
they know better than the monarch the selfish
use that they can make of all the passions
and vices; and as they are connected
with society, as they have a continual relation
with the different orders of the state,
their corruptions are propagated, and their
dangerous influence spreads to a great distance.
Attacked, nevertheless, by the public,
they become still more mischievous in
their means of warding off danger, for despairing
of disguise before the attentive eyes
of a whole people, they turn their address
181against the prince; they study, they pry
into his weaknesses, and artfully encourage
those which may protect or cover the defects
of their character; they apply themselves,
at the same time, to adorn immorality
with every grace which can render it
amiable, and they endeavour to make virtue
hateful, by delineating it as austere, imperious,
unsociable, and almost incompatible
with our morals and manners: it is thus
that ministers, not restrained by principles,
occasion not only the misery of a country
whilst their influence lasts, but they poison
the source of public felicity, by weakening
in the monarch his sentiments of duty, diverting
his good dispositions, and discouraging,
if I may say so, his natural virtues.
In short, the picture which I have just
drawn will produce another important observation:
the prince, after having wandered out
of the path of true glory, may return, when
he pleases, to the love of virtue and greatness;
all the avenues are open to him, all
hearts ready to welcome him, we have an
inclination to love him, and desire to
182esteem him, whom fate has placed at the
head of the nation; and who, invested with
the majesty which he borrows from a long
train of ancestors, exhibits himself surrounded
by all the enchantments of a diadem;
we adopt with pleasure any interpretation
which can excuse his conduct; we
impute to ill counsels the faults which he
has committed; and we are eager to enter
with him into a new contract of esteem and
hope. It is not the same with ministers;
a like indulgence is not due to them, because
they cannot throw the blame on
others, and all their actions proceed from
themselves; when they have once lost the
opinion of the public, their depravity will
increase daily; because, to maintain their
post they are obliged to redouble their intrigues
and dissimulation.
I have maturely reflected: the religion
of princes, of ministers, of government in
general, is the first source of the happiness
of the people; we despise it, because it is
not our invention, and we often give the
183preference to those artifices of the mind,
which seduce us as being our own work;
and perhaps they are wanted, after having
lost sight of this sure and faithful guide,
this companion of true genius, which,
like it, prefers easy and simple means. Yes,
this exalted virtue, resembling superior abilities,
rejects equally those weak resources
and inventions, which derive not their origin
from an elevated sentiment or grand
thought; and, whilst one obliges a statesman
to respect honour, justice, and truth,
the other discovers the union of these principles
with the just means which strengthen
authority, and with the true glory and durable
success of politics; in short, whilst
one renders him anxious about the happiness
of the people, the other shows how,
from the bosom of this happiness, they
would see rise insensibly an agreement of
interests and of wills, of whose extensive use
we are still ignorant.
If we wish to dwell a moment on the
private happiness of princes, we shall readily
184perceive, that they have a real want of
the encouragement religion affords. Their
distinguished authority appears, indeed, to
their mind, a singular privilege; they believe
this power should extend to every
thing, and they indiscretly endeavour to
accelerate the moments of enjoyment; but
as they cannot change the law of nature, it
happens, that in delivering themselves up
to every thing which seduces their imagination,
they experience as quickly the sad
langour of indifference, and the oppression
of apathy.
Kings, in the exercise of their intellectual
faculties are exposed to the same extremes;
providence having placed them on the pinnacle
of fortune, they consequently have not
been led from one view to another, and know
not those gradations which actuate their
subjects in the name of vanity, self-love, or
fortune.—Alas! we obey so quickly, and their
desires are so soon gratified, that their taste
and inclinations cannot be renewed with
the quickness necessary to enable them to
185fill the irksome void which so frequently
occurs. If the magnificent end which
religion offers were to be obscured, and
if, henceforth, we were to consider it
as a fallacious illusion, unworthy of
our attention, kings would soon attain to
that term when the future would appear
to their mind a barren uniformity, a
space without colour or form.
The numerous duties of princes, undoubtedly,
afford a continual source of satisfaction;
but it is necessary that they
should be able to connect all their obligations
to a grand idea, the only one which
can constantly animate their actions and
thoughts, who have need of neither favour
nor advancement from their fellow-creatures.
And how much would it contribute
to their happiness sometimes, to imagine
themselves between this world, in which
they are weary of their own power, and
that magnificent future; the sublime contemplation
of which would carry them,
with a new charm, to the exercise of their
authority! What pleasure then would flow
186from this authority, the source of so much
good!—What pleasure would they not find
in more closely imitating the divine beneficence,
the most comfortable of all ideas, and
what a moment for him, when particularly
conscious of the presence of the exalted friend
of the whole human race, he should be able
to reflect, in the morning, on the people
he was going to make happy; and in the
evening, on those he had actually done good
to. What a difference between these delicious
moments, whose influence the nation feels,
and those insignificant levees, only known
to courtiers, in which the monarch is
the spectacle, and tastes the sad pleasure of
seeing so many men cringing before his
own image. What a difference, even between
these rapturous sensations, and those
raised by flattery, or the dazzling parade
which surrounds him, in the midst of
which he cannot discern himself, whether
he is a great man, or only a king.
In short, we ought to acknowledge, that
the more extensive the horizon, which opens
187before sovereigns, the greater is the number
of duties presented to their reflections, the
more they must feel the want of that
sustaining power so infinitely superior to
their own strength: they are conscious of
the disproportion which exists between the
extent of their authority and the means entrusted
to human nature; and it is only by
supporting themselves against that mysterious
pillar, erected by religion, that they
can be firm, and consider without affright,
that Providence has called them to regulate
and direct the destiny of a whole empire.
It was when profoundly meditating on the
existence of a God; reflecting on the influence
and various relations of such a grand
thought, that Marcus Aurelius discovered
all the extent of his duties, and felt, at the
same time, the courage and the will to fulfil
them. The happy and constant agreement
of his actions and principles made
his reign an illustrious example of wisdom
and morality.
We must confess, that it is to virtue,
supported by every sentiment which
188it imprints on the human heart, that we
should wish to confide the sacred deposit
of public happiness; this alone is
always faithful and vigilant, surpasses the
spur of praise, and, by the ascendency
of a great example, leads men to the
knowledge of every thing they ought to
admire.
CHAP. VIII. An Objection drawn from the Wars and from the Commotions which Religion has given Rise to.
189
I shall present, at first, this objection
in all its force, or rather I will not seek
to weaken it; it would be needless to recal
to the memory of men all the evils that
have happened during a long series of years,
with which we have reason to reproach the
blind and savage zeal of religious fanaticism.
Every one has present to his mind those
multiplied acts of intolerance which have
sullied the annals of history; every one
knows the scenes of discord, of war, and
fury, which theological controversies have
caused amongst men; they have been informed
of the fatal consequences which
these enterprizes have brought in their
train, and which the rare virtues of a great
king have not been able to justify. In
short, to maintain, in all ages, a remembrance
of the fatal abuses which have been
190committed in the name of the God of
Peace, it would be sufficient to describe
those direful days, when some different tenet
produced a sentence of proscription, and
the frightful signal of the most cruel frenzies.
It is thus then, that in all times, by an
absurd tyranny, or by a ferocious enthusiasm,
triumphs have been contrived for the eager
detractors of religion. Let us examine,
however, if the deductions that they wish
to draw from these errors of the human
mind, are founded on reason and justice.
I shall not stop to observe, that religion
has oftener been the pretext, than the
true motive, of the unhappy convulsions of
which it appears at present the sole origin;
or stop to recal the various political
advantages, which could only arise from
such a grand principle of action; those august
testimonies are commemorated in history:
I shall only borrow the support of
191reason, and shall bound my discussion to a
few simple reflections.
Do you think, that by relating the different
abuses of authority we could prove
the advantage of anarchy? Could we decry
every species of jurisprudence, by recounting
all the ills which have been produced by
chicane? Should we be able to throw an
odium on the sciences, by recalling all the
fatal discoveries which are owing to our
researches? Would it be proper to stifle
every kind of self-love and activity, by reciting
the different crimes which covetousness,
pride, and ambition have given rise
to? And ought we, then, to desire to annihilate
religion, because fanaticism has made
an instrument of it to distress the human
species? All these questions are similar, and
all should be resolved in the same manner:
thus we may say with respect to them, that
in all our interests and passions, it is by acquired
knowledge, and the light of reason,
that right is separated from wrong; but we
192ought never to confound their proximity
with a real identity.
Fanaticism and religion have not any
connection, though very often these ideas
are found united. It is not the worship of
the common Father of men; it is not the
morality of the gospel, whose precepts lead
to goodness and forbearance, which inspires
the spirit of persecution; we should attribute
it to a blind madness, resembling all
those wild errors and crimes which dishonour
humanity. But since, at present, the
excesses to which men abandon themselves
do not induce us to condemn, as a misfortune,
all the sentiments of which the criminal
passions are only the extreme, why
do we wish to refuse religion the gratitude
which is its due, because sometimes it has
given birth to hatred and unhappy divisions?
It would be necessary rather to remark,
that intolerant zeal is, of all the errors
of the human mind, that on which the progress
of our knowledge appears to have had
most influence. In fact, whilst fanaticism,
193gradually weakened, seems to be now verging
to its decline, the disorders connected
with the common passions of ambition, love
of wealth, and thirst of pleasure, remain in
all their force. However, what sentiment,
what predominant idea, has a greater claim
to pardon for its mistakes than devotion?
By what an infinite number of benefits the
pure spirit of religion makes amends for the
abuses which spring from the false interpretation
of its precepts. It is to this spirit,
as we have shown, that men owe the stability
of public order and the firm principles
of justice: it procures the indigent the succours
of charity, and virtue its encouragement;
oppressed innocence its only refuge,
and sensibility its dearest hopes. Yes, the
pure spirit of religion surrounds us on every
side, it makes the charm, of solitude, the
band of society, the invigorater of intimate
affections; and can we calumniate it and
wish to destroy it, on recollecting the tyrannic
opinions of some priests and sovereigns,
whose principles and conduct we now
detest?
194I shall further remark, and ask why men
denounce a sentence of reprobation against
religion, and give as the motive, the ancient
wars of which it has been the origin;
whilst they never contest the importance of
commerce, though rivers of blood have been
continually shed for the smallest advantage
on this account? Can they be so mistaken
in their judgment, as to compare a few
pecuniary advantages, which one political
state never enjoys, but at the expence of
another, with those, as precious as they are
universal, of which religion is the origin and
support?
In short, among the various arguments
that are employed to attack these opinions,
the most frivolous, undoubtedly, is that
which derives all its force from the errors
and faults of which the present times do not
furnish any example. What should we say
if, at the moment when a superb edifice was
firm on its foundation, we should be exhorted
to level it with the ground, by a relation
of all the accidents its erection occasioned?
195Throwing then a painful retrospect on
the period of history, when religion was
made the pretext of wars and cruelty; let
us oppose to the return of those sanguinary
scenes, let us oppose to the spirit of intolerance
all the force of wisdom, and the instructions
of that religion which they pretend
to serve by a blind zeal. But far from
freeing us from the respect which we owe
to such salutary opinions, which men have
abused, let us take advantage of experience,
as a new defence against the wanderings of
our imaginations, and the surprises of our
passions[2].
CHAP. IX. Another Objection examined. The Sabbath.
196
I do not intend to place among the objections
I ought to discuss, nor in the
number of arguments, that it is important
to examine, the various opinions on such
and such parts of religious worship, nor the
difficulties raised against the adoption of
some dogmatic notion, thought essential by
some, and considered with indifference by
others: it is not a treatise of controversial
theology which I wish to compose; and it
is still less the doctrines of one particular
church, which I would oppose to that of
another; all of them connect morality to
the commands of a Supreme Being; they
all of them see in the public worship the
respectful expression of a sentiment of love
and gratitude towards the Author of Nature.
Thus, those who might think they
perceived some imperfections in the system,
197or in the forms of worship, adopted in a
nation, should not use this objection to dispute
the utility of religion, since the reflections,
which have been just made on its
importance, may be applied equally to the
doctrines of all countries, and the principles
of every sect.
I shall dwell then on the only difficulty
which interests, without distinction, the different
religions of Europe.
The establishment of public worship, and
the necessity of consecrating at least one day in
every week, occasions, say some, a suspension
of labour too frequent; and this suspension
injures the state, and diminishes the resources
of the people.
I may at first observe, that such objections
would appear very weak, if compared
with the great advantages which men owe
to religion! An increase of wealth can
never outweigh order, morality, and happiness.
But I must go further to prove,
198that a day of rest, devoted amongst us to
public worship, cannot injure the political
strength; and that so far from being contrary
to the interests of the people, it protects
and favours them; and as I invariably prefer
such interests to all others, I shall begin
by demonstrating, in a few words, the justness
of this proposition.
We should be mistaken if we thought,
that in a given space of time, men forced, by
the inequality of conditions, to live by their
labour, would, by observing the precepts of
religion, better their situation, if they were
not obliged to rest from labour one day in
every week.
It is necessary, in order to perceive this
truth, to examine, first, what is now the
measure of wages; it is not an exact proportion
between labour and its reward. In
fact, if we consulted only the light of reason
and equity, no one, I believe, would
dare to decide, that the most scanty necessaries
is the just price of fatiguing and painful
199labour, which commences at the dawn,
and does not finish till the setting of the
sun: we should not be able to maintain,
that in the midst of his enjoyments, and in
the bosom of luxurious idleness, the rich
ought not to grant any other retribution to
those who sacrifice their time and strength
to increase their revenue and multiply their
enjoyments. It is not then by the principles
of common sense or reflection, that
the wages of the generality have been fixed;
it is a compact established by power, a yoke
to which the weak must submit. The
possessor of a vast domain would see all his
riches vanish, if numerous labourers did not
come to cultivate his estate, and carry into
his store-house the fruit of their toil; but,
as the number of men without property is
immense, their concurrence, and the pressing
need that they have to labour for a
subsistence, obliges them to receive the law
from him who can, in the bosom of ease,
wait quietly for their services; and it results
from this habitual relation between
the rich and poor, that the wages for hard
200labour are constantly reduced to the most
scanty allowance, that is to say, to what is
only sufficient to satisfy their daily and indispensable
wants.
This system once settled, if it were possible,
that, by a revolution in our nature,
men could live and preserve their strength
without allotting every day some hours to
repose and sleep, it is beyond doubt, that
the work of twenty hours would be required
for the same wages now granted for
twelve.
Or, by an assimilation, agreeing with
the hypothesis I have just mentioned, suppose
that a moral revolution permitted labourers
to work the seventh day, they would
consequently, in a short time, require of
them the extraordinary labour at the former
rate; and this levelling would take place
through the gradual diminution of the
price of labour. The class of society,
which, in exerting its power, has regulated
the present wages, not according to reason and
201equity, but according to the necessities of
the labourers, would quickly discern its own
interest; and that when a day more was
paid for, the people could bear a diminution
of the seventh part of their wages, and
be in their old state. Thus, though before
the change had thoroughly taken place, all
those who live by labour would think that
they had acquired a new resource; yet
they would soon be brought to their former
condition; for it is the same with social
order as with the law of equilibrium in
nature, which combines ranks and places,
every thing according to the immutable law
of the proportion of force.
Men, devoid of property, after having
been some time deceived, would only get an
increase of work by the abolition of the Sabbath;
and as this truth does not present
itself naturally to the mind, we ought to
consider, as an essential service of religion,
its having secured the greater number of men
from a degree of oppression, to which they
202would have run blindly, if they had been
at liberty to make a choice.
The daily labour of one class of society
surpasses the reasonable measure of its
strength, and hastens the days of decripitude;
it was then absolutely necessary that
the customary course of these labours should
be, for a time, suspended; but as the people,
pressed by wants of every kind, are exposed
to be seduced by the slightest appearance
of advantage, it was further necessary
to their happiness, that the interruption
of thier fatigues, fixed by a religious
duty, appeared not to them the voluntary sacrifice
of fortune, and did not leave in them
any regret. In short, they are pleased when
they think of those days of rest, which produce
a little alteration in their manner of
living; and they require that alteration, not
to be depressed by a continual train and repetition
of the same occupations. Thus,
were you to assert artfully, that the people
are not as comfortable of a Sunday, as during
the week, it would be at least true,
203that one is softened by the expectation of the
other; there are people so very wretched,
and probably, on that account, so bounded
are their desires, that the most trifling variety
is a substitute for hope. It seems to
me, that the hearts of the common people
may be sometimes cheered with the thought
of being once a week dressed like their superiors;
when they are absolute masters of
their time, and can say,—and I also—I am
free[3].
204I must now examine the second proposition
which I have mentioned.
You have made obvious, some will say,
that an augmentation of the days of labour
would occasion a reduction of the wages
allowed for it, we may then reasonably ask,
if this result would not favour commerce,
and contribute, in some respect, to increase
the political strength? Undoubtedly you
may consider under this point of view, the
diminution of the reward of industry; but
the political strength being always a relative
idea, and derived from comparisons
with other states, this strength can
never be augmented or diminished by a circumstance
common to all the countries of
Europe. Were a barbarous ambition to
abolish in one state the Sabbath, the abolition
would probably procure it a degree of
superiority, if it was the only one that
adopted such a change; but as soon as
others followed their example, the advantage
would disappear. However, the same
arguments ought to serve to convince us,
205that those countries, where the intervals of
inaction occur oftener, have necessarily a
political disadvantage, with regard to others,
where Sunday and a few solemn feasts are the
only days of rest prescribed by government.
We may conclude from these observations,
that so far from finding fault with religion for
appointing a day of rest, devoted every week
to public worship, we ought to acknowledge
with pleasure, that such an institution
is a benevolent act, extended to the most
numerous class of the inhabitants of the
earth, the most deserving our consideration
and protection; from which we require so
much, and return so little: towards that
unfortunate class, whose youth and maturity
the rich profit by, and abandon them
when the hour is come, when they have no
more strength left but to enable them to
pray and weep.
CHAP. X. An Observation on a particular Circumstance of public Worship.
206
It is not sufficient, that sovereigns are persuaded
of the influence of religion on the
morality and happiness of men; they ought
to make use of proper means to maintain
this salutary action; and, of course,
every part of public worship becomes of
the greatest importance. Educated in a religion,
thought by some to approach nearer
the first ideas of christianity, yet as it has
adopted several principles by no means consonant
with the Catholic faith, it would be
unwise in me to discuss any of the questions
which divide the two churches; and I
should do it without any good accruing
from it, so much are we disposed to refer
to early prejudices, the ideas which are
most intimately blended with the sentiments
and feeling of a man; we like to take a
207general view, and this method agrees with
our indolence; but it leads us often astray.
I think, however, that the minds of the
people are now sufficiently enlightened, to
permit me to advise the superiors of both
church and state, to examine attentively, if
it is not full time to make more use of the
vulgar tongue, and if we are not warned, by
the present depravity of morals, to alter the
manner of performing divine service in this
respect.
It is only during an interval of the grand
mass that the priest addresses to country people
some words of exhortation in their own
language; it was natural to consider this
moment as the most proper to dispose the
mind to respect and attention; but perhaps,
even the pomp of an august ceremony,
by attracting strongly the imagination,
withdraws the generality from the importance
of the other parts of divine worship;
and it frequently happens in country places,
that many people go out of the church
during the sermon, and return at the moment
of consecration.
208I think also, that public prayers should
always be in the vulgar tongue, and they
might easily be made interesting and affecting,
as there are not any religious discourses
which sympathize more with human
weakness; and as our wants and anxieties
may be made use of to raise us towards the
Supreme Being, the best of all bands might
be chosen to win the multitude.
I must observe besides, that part of the
country people, especially in harvest time,
and other seasons, when the husbandman is
particularly busy, assist only at early mass,
and then they see but a part of the religious
ceremonies[4]. And, if the practice
and liberty of working on a Sunday was
more extended, the inhabitants of the
country, still more confined to the first mass,
would hear neither prayers nor instructive
discourses in their own language during the
whole year.
Certainly there must be something altered
in these religious institutions in order
209to make them more efficaciously serve to
support morality, and comfort the most
numerous class of the human race. Country
people, whose labour produces our
wealth, ought to be taken care of with
paternal anxiety; and since they are not exposed
to those disorderly passions which find
nourishment in a metropolis; since mild
and prudent means still suffice to maintain
them in the habit of duty; both the superiors
in church and state have to answer,
in some measure, for the corruption of their
manners and dispositions.
CHAP. XI. That the single Idea of a God is a sufficient Support of Morality.
210
After having shown that morality
has need of a supernatural support,
you have reason to expect, that I should
explain the intimate and immediate relation
which unites religion to the love of virtue,
and the observance of order. I will endeavour,
then, to discuss this important
question; and in order to arrive at the
truth, I shall follow first the course of those
simple sentiments and natural thoughts,
which guide the mind and the heart of
man, in every climate and country under
heaven.
It is easy to unite all the moral legislation,
and the entire system of our duties, by means
only of the idea of a God.
211The universe, notwithstanding its magnificence
and its immensity, would be a
mere nothing, if its Supreme Author had
not peopled it with intelligent beings, capable
of contemplating so many wonders,
and of receiving happiness from them; but
the faculties with which we are endowed,
consciousness of possessing them, and the
liberty to act, all announce to us that we
are united to a grand combination, that we
have a part to take on the vast stage of the
world.
The most simple reason, that which resembles
instinct, would have been sufficient
to enable us to take care of the body, and
to have concentred us in ourselves; more
would not have been necessary for those
who have so little to do. Thus, when I
see that the mind is susceptible of continual
improvement, when I see that men enjoy
the power of assisting each other, and of
communicating their ideas, in a manner so
much superior to other animals; when I
fix my attention on our social dispositions,
and on all the relative qualities which compose
212our nature, I cannot avoid thinking,
that we have a plan of conduct to follow
towards others, and that in our pilgrimage
on earth we must be circumspect, having
obstacles to conquer, sacrifices to make, and
obligations to fulfil.
Men then appear to be led to religion by
the most excellent gifts of nature, and by
all that they have in them of the sublime;
but we ought to remark, as a singular resemblance,
that their wants also, and their
extreme weakness, lead them to the same
object.
Whatever may be my emotions, when
I reflect on the present imperious laws to
which I am obliged to submit, and when I
recal to mind the grandeur and magnificence
which I have been a witness of, I
raise continually my soul towards the Sovereign
Director of events, and am led by
instinct, as well as by a rational sentiment,
to address my prayers to Him. It appears
to the unfortunate, when they view so
213many wonders which their understanding
cannot grasp, that so little is wanting to
guard them from the dangers which threaten
them, they implore the commiseration of
Him whose formidable power bursts from
all sides. But, while they admire and adore,
they must imitate His perfections, and not
expect mercy when they show none. Purity
of heart only can render an intercourse
with the Supreme Being interesting; and
prayers are merely a solemn kind of mockery,
when they do not produce virtue and forbearance,
when they do not render us kindly
affected to each other; our very state of
dependence, our wants and weaknesses,
should bind us to those beings who equally
share the blessings so liberally bestowed,
and have the same evils to endure. Thus
discontent, the fear of futurity, the anxiety
caused by misfortunes, all the sentiments,
which engage men to disturb social
order, take another character, or are
at least sensibly modified; when, from
their first suffering, they can elevate
their wishes to God, but dare not do
214it, with a heart sullied by criminal intentions.
It is not only prayer which leads us to
religion; another communication with the
Supreme Being, gratitude, produces the same
effect. A man, persuaded of the existence of
a sovereign power, and who gladly connects
with the divine protection his success and
happiness, feels, at the same time, a desire
to express his gratitude; and not being able
to do any thing for him who bestows all,
he seeks to form an idea of the perfections
of that Supreme Being, in order to comprehend
the system of conduct most conformable
to his attributes. At first, what
reflections possess our mind, what emotions
agitate our souls, when we contemplate the
universe? When we respectfully admire
that magnificent harmony, which is the
incomprehensible result of an innumerable
multitude of different powers: struck with
this vast whole, where we discover an
agreement so perfect, how is it possible for
us to avoid considering order as a distinct
215mark of the wisdom and of the design of
Omnipotence? And how is it possible for
us not to think, that we render him the
most worthy homage, at the time we make
use of the free intelligence which he has
endowed us with. Then in the composition
of a social structure, a work which
has been entrusted to us, we shall try to
penetrate the ideas of wisdom and order, of
which all nature presents such a grand example;
then, in establishing the relations
which unite men, we shall carefully study
the laws of moral order, and we shall find
them all founded on the reciprocation of
duties, which submit to a regular movement
different jarring personal interests.
In short, the idea of a God, Creator, Regenerator,
and Preserver of the Universe, by
invariable laws, and by a train of the same
causes and the same effects, seems to call
us to the conception of a universal morality,
which, in imitation of the unknown springs
of the natural world, may be as the necessary
tie of this succession of intelligent beings,
who always, with the same passions,
216come to pass and repass on the earth, to
seek, or to fly, to assist, or to hurt each
other, according to the strength or the
weakness of the knot which unites them,
and according to the wisdom or inconsistency
of the principles which direct their
opinions.
The attentive study of man and of his
nature ought to contribute to confirm in
us the idea which we have just pointed
out. We cannot, in fact, consider the
prodigious difference which exists between
the minds and characters of men; we
cannot fix our attention on the length
to which this difference may be carried,
by the perfectibility of which they are
susceptible; we cannot, in short, reflect
on a like constitution, without being induced
to think, that the counterpoise of
these extraordinary means of force and
usurpation must proceed from reason, from
that singular authority which only can establish,
between men, relations of justice
and convenience, proper to maintain an
217equilibrium and harmony in the midst of
so many disparities: it is thus, that respect
for morality seems evidently to make a part
of the general view and primitive idea of
the Supreme Disposer of the universe. And
what pleasure shall we not find in the persuasion,
that the cultivation of virtue, that
the observance of order, offers us the means
of pleasing our Divine Benefactor! It is by
that alone that we can hope to concur,
however feebly, in the execution of his
grand designs; and in the centre of so
many blessings, surrounded by so many
signs of a particular protection, how highly
ought we to value this means of communication
with the Author of our existence?
Thus, then, the homage of adoration
and gratitude which we render to
the Deity, leads us to a sentiment of respect
for the laws of morality; and this sentiment,
in its turn, serves continually to
maintain in us the idea of a Supreme Being.
Independent of the reflections which we
have just presented, morality, considered in
218all its extent, has need of being strengthened
by this disposition of the soul, which
makes us interested in the happiness of
others; and it is besides, in one of the most
glorious perfections of the Deity, that we
find the first model of this precious sentiment.
Yes, we cannot deny it: either our
existence proceeds from no cause, or we
owe it to the goodness of the Supreme Being.
Life, some will say, undoubtedly is
a mixture of pains and pleasures: but, if
we are candid we shall confess, that those
moments, when it ceases to appear to us a
benefit, do not often occur in life: in youth,
existence is thought the greatest blessing,
and the other seasons of life offer pleasures
less animated, certainly, but which agree
better with the progress of our understanding,
and the increase of our experience.
It is true, that in order to free ourselves
from a sentiment of gratitude, we often think
that we would not accept of a renewal of
life, on condition of our running over a second
time our career, and returning step by
219step in the same track. But we should consider,
that we do not fix a just value on the
benefits which we have received; for when
we take a retrospective view of life, we see
it stripped of its two principal ornaments,
curiosity and hope; and it is not in this
state that it was given to us, and that we
have enjoyed it.
It is, perhaps, not in our power to replace
ourselves, by contemplation, in the
situation where the imagination made our
chief pleasure, a slight breath has easily
effaced it from our memory: it is evident
that we enjoy life, because we look forward
with affright to the moment when
we shall be forced to renounce it; but, as
this happiness is composed of present pleasures,
and those which we anticipate, we
cease to be good judges of the value of life,
when this future prospect is not presented
to our eyes, but under the form of the past;
for we know not how to appreciate, with a
languishing recollection, that which we have
loved in the moment of hope.
220Physical evils are not either the end or
the condition of our nature, they are its accidents:
the happiness of infancy, which
shows in its primitive purity the works of
the Deity, visibly point out the goodness of
the Supreme Being; and how can we avoid
believing, that we owe our origin to a benevolent
design, since it is a desire of happiness,
which has been given to serve as the
motive of all our actions? We should indeed
speak well of life, if we had not corrupted
its comforts by artificial sentiments,
which we have substituted instead of nature;
if we had not submitted so many realities
to pride and vanity; if, instead of assisting
each other to be happy, we had not employed
our thoughts to make others submit to us.
Undoubtedly there are some sufferings annexed
to our existence, as in the natural
world there are apparent defects. Let us
employ our minds on the most exalted subjects,
and we shall no longer be a prey to
envy and discontent.
It is on the consideration of detached events;
it is in some particular circumstances, that
221we raise doubts about the goodness of
God; but we immediately discern it when
we compare particulars which wound us,
with the great whole of which they make
a part; we discover then, that the misfortunes
which we are so quickly offended with
are a simple appendage of a general system,
where all the characters of a beneficent intelligence
are evidently traced. It is necessary
then to view the whole of life to
discover the intention of the author of nature;
and in meditating in this manner, we
shall return always to a sentiment of respect
and gratitude. This simple idea is very extensive
in its application; it seems to me,
above all, that it serves to console us under
the ills of life; the man who is penetrated
by it can say to himself, the transitory evil
to which I am subject, is perhaps one of
the inevitable effects of this universal harmony,
the most noble and the most extensive
of all conceptions. Thus, in the
moments when I bemoan my fate, I ought
not to think myself forsaken, I ought
not to accuse Him, whose infinite wisdom
222is present to my view, Him whose general
laws have so often appeared to me a visible
expression of real goodness.
It is in vain, some will say, it is in vain
that you would wish to make us attend to
these considerations; we only remark, that
our earthly happiness is at least inferior to
that which our imagination so readily forms
the picture of; and we do not perceive, in
such a disposition, the union of perfections
which ought to be ascribed to the Supreme
Being.
This objection is presented under different
forms in the writings of all the enemies to
religion; and they have drawn consequences,
sometimes against the goodness of God, his
power, his wisdom, and justice. It is necessary,
clearly to explain this difficulty, to
be in a state to form to ourselves an idea of
the perfection of an Infinite Being; but in
all our attempts, we only carry to the extreme
every quality which we conceive;
instead of that, perfection in the works of
223the Creator, probably consists in a kind of
gradation and harmony, the secret of which
we cannot either embrace, or penetrate;
and we ought still more to be on our guard,
when we form any conception of the essence
of the Deity, as by confining ourselves solely
to reconcile his sovereign power with his
perfect goodness, we should never fix the
boundary when these two properties will
be in an equilibrium: for after having exhausted
every supposition, we might still
ask, why the number of rational beings is
not more extended? We might ask, why
every grain of sand is not one of those beings?
why there is not a number equal to
that infinite divisibility of which we form
the idea? In short, from extreme to extreme,
and always in arguing on the sovereign
power, the least inanimate atom, the
least void in nature, would appear a boundary
to the goodness of the Supreme Being.
We see then to what a point we may wander,
when we abandon common sense for
the vague excursions of a metaphysical
spirit.
224I think, if no other proofs could be
found, the power of God would be sufficient
to demonstrate his goodness; for this power
informs us every instant, that if the Supreme
Ruler of the World had intended the misery
of rational beings, he would have had, to
fulfil this intention, means as rapid as numerous.
He needed not have created worlds;
nor have made them so convenient and
beautiful; a terrific gulph, and eternal darkness
might have been sufficient to collect together
those unfortunate beings, and make
them feel their misery. Let us not dwell
on these gloomy subjects, let us follow a
just emotion of gratitude; we shall be eager
then to render homage to that indelible character
of love and goodness which we see
stamped on all nature. An unknown power
opens our eyes to the light, and permits us
to view the wonders of the universe: it
awakens in us those enchanting sensations
which first point out the charms of life; it
enriches us with that intellectual gift which
re-assembles round us past ages, and the
time to come; it confers, in an early hour,
225an empire, by endowing us with those two
sublime faculties, will and liberty; in short,
it renders us sensible to the real pleasure of
loving and being beloved; and when, by
the effect of a general plan, of which we
have but an imperfect conception, it spreads
here and there some difficulties in the road
of life; it seems to wish to soften them, by
showing us always the future through the
enchanting medium of the imagination.
Could it be then without any interest or
goodness, that this magnificent system was
conceived, and preserved by so many superb
demonstrations of wisdom and power? What
should we be in the sight of the Eternal,
if he did not love us? We do not adorn his
majestic universe, or lend to the dawn its
magnificent colours; neither have we covered
the earth with a verdant carpet, or
bid the celestial bodies revolve in the immense
expanse; he asked not counsel of us—we
should be nothing in his eyes, if he
was indifferent to our gratitude, and if he
took not any pleasure in the happiness of
his creatures.
226In short, were we to turn our attention from
so many striking proofs of the goodness of
God; were they to be effaced from our memory,
we should still find, in the recesses of
our heart, a sufficient evidence of this comfortable
truth, we should perceive that we
are good and affectionate, when not perverted
by passion; and we should be led to
think, that such an inclination in beings
who have received every thing, must necessarily
be the seal of their Divine Author. In
order to exalt this sentiment, we must refer
it continually to the idea of a Supreme Being;
for there is, we doubt not, a correspondence
of instinct and reflection between our
virtue and the perfections of him who is the
origin of all things; and provided we do
not resist our natural emotions, we shall
perceive from those very perfections all that
is sufficient to excite our worship and adoration;
above all, whatever is necessary to
serve as an example for our conduct, and to
afford principles of morality.
227I ought now to examine some important
objections; for why should I fear to present
them? a love for systems and opinions ought
not to exist, in treating a subject on which so
many have expatiated, and which belongs
equally to all men. Though we are
allowed, when seeking truth eagerly, to wish
to find it united to the sentiments which
form our happiness, and the principles
which are the foundation of public order.
We admit, say some, that there are many
perfections peculiar to the Supreme Being,
the study and knowledge of which ought
to serve to sustain the laws of morality;
but one of the essential properties of the
divine essence oversets the whole structure,
it is prescience: for, as God knows beforehand
what we are to do, it follows, that
all our actions are irrevocably determined;
and thus man is not free. And, if such
is his condition, he deserves neither praise
nor censure; he has no means of pleasing
or displeasing the Supreme Being, and the
ideas of good and evil, of virtue and vice,
228are absolutely chimerical. I shall, at first,
make a very simple reply to this objection,
but a very decisive one: it is that, if against
appearances you should happen to persuade
me, that there now exists an absolute contradiction
between the liberty of man and
the prescience of the Deity, it is on the
nature and extent of this prescience that I
shall raise my doubts; for, forced to choose,
I should rather mistrust the judgment of
my own mind, than that of an internal
persuasion. It is by these same considerations,
that it will always be impossible to
prove to men that they are not free: we
could only succeed with the assistance of
reasoning, and reasoning being already a
beginning of art, a kind of exterior combination
of reflections, this means, in some
measure out of us, would not have power
to eradicate a sentiment which seems the
first that we are conscious of.
We soon discover the limits of our faculties,
in the efforts which we make to
acquire a just idea of the divine prescience:
229we can very well suppose, that God foresees
with certainty what we only conjecture
about, and in extending without end the
bounds which occur to our mind, we shall
proportion in our imagination, the knowledge
of the Creator to the immensity of
space, and to the infinity of time; but beyond
these vague ideas we shall err in all
our speculations. How is it possible, that
men, who know not even the nature of
their own souls, should be able to determine
the nature of prescience? How is it possible,
that they can know whether this
prescience is the effect of a rapid calculation
of him, who embraces at one glance the
relation and effects of every moral and
natural cause? how can they discern, whether
this prescience, in an Infinite Being,
is distinct from simple knowledge? How
can they know whether that Being, by a
property beyond our conception, does not
exist before and after events, whether he is
not, in some manner, the intellectual time,
and whether our divisions of years and ages,
230would not disappear before his immoveable
existence and eternal duration.
It results, however, from these considerations,
that on account of our extreme
ignorance we cannot accurately define prescience;
but we are reduced to examine
whether this prescience, considered in a
general manner, is incompatible with the
liberty of man.
This opinion, I think, should not be
adopted. Prescience does not determine future
events, for the mere knowledge of the
future makes not the future. It is not prescience
which necessitates the actions of
men, because it does not change the
natural order of things; but all future
events are fixed, whether foreseen or not;
for constraint and liberty conduct equally to
a positive term: thus, all that will happen
is as immutable as that which is past, since
the present was the future of yesterday, and
will be to morrow the past. It is then
abstractedly certain, that an event, either
231foreseen or not, will take place some time;
but if liberty is not contrary to this inevitable
certainty, how would it be more so,
because their exists a Being who is acquainted
previously with the precise nature
of events? We may then say, with truth,
that the knowledge of the future is no
more an obstacle to liberty, than the remembrance
of the past; and prophecies,
like histories, are only recitals, whose place
is not the same in the order of time; but
not having any influence on events, do not
constrain the will, cannot enslave the sentiments,
or subject men to the law of necessity.
We will confess, however, that if prescience
was founded on the possibility of
calculating the actions of men, like the
movements of an organized machine, liberty
could not exist; but then it would
not be prescience which opposed this liberty,
it would be because we are automatons;
for with such a constitution we should be
without liberty, were even the Supreme
232Being not to have any knowledge of futurity.
It is in vain, in order to convince us
we are not free, that some would represent
us as necessarily submitting to the impulse
of various exterior objects; comprehending,
among those objects, every thing that is
subtle in moral ideas, and uniting them
under the general name of motives, and
giving afterwards to these motives a physical
force which we are bound to obey;
but to be free, is it necessary that we act
without motives? then man would be indeed
evidently a piece of mechanism. It
is certain, that we are, in all our actions,
determined by reason, taste, or a cause of
preference; but it is our mind which comprehends
these various considerations, which
weighs, compares, and modifies; it is our
mind which listens to the counsels of virtue,
and which replies to the language of our
passions; it is in order to enlighten itself
that it borrows from the memory the succours
of experience; it is then our mind
233which prepares, composes, and improves
every thing which we term motives, and
it is after this intellectual labour that we
act. There is too much order, unity, and
harmony in our thoughts, to allow us to
suppose them the mere effect of exterior
objects; which, under the form of ideas,
come without order to impress themselves
on our brain; and until we are made acquainted
with the works of chaos, we shall
believe with reason that every where there
is that unity, that order; that there is a
faculty capable of re-assembling every thing
that is scattered, and uniting to one end
all that is mixed without design.
As soon as we are impelled to believe, that
there is a master of all our perceptions, and
that we feel this master act, how is it possible
not to be certain that it is our mind
which acts? It is then, in breaking loose
from its operations, that we are stripped of
our liberty, and that we at length suppose
that our will is the necessary consequence
of all exterior objects, as if it were the colours,
234and not the painter, which produced
a picture. However, if we secure our mind
from that dependence to which some wish
to reduce it, our actions will not obey these
irresistible emotions; for if they grant that
we have liberty of thought, we have free
will.
We ought to consider our senses as messengers,
which bring to our mind new subjects
of reflection; but they are in such a
manner subordinate to the sublime part of
ourselves, that they act only under direction;
sometimes the ruling principle commands
them to bring representations of the
beauties of nature, to examine assiduously
the registers of the human mind, to take
the rule and the compass, and render an exact
account of that which it desires to know
with precision; sometimes they are taught
to acquire more power, and when the soul
wishes to communicate with men, when it
wishes to address posterity, it orders them
to perpetuate in indelible characters all that
it has maturely combined, all that it has
235discovered, and all it hopes to add to the
treasures of our knowledge. Is it not the
master rather than the slave of our senses, or
the blind play of their caprice?
There is besides another observation,
which seems to contrast with the absolute
empire, that some are willing to grant to
exterior objects over the powers of our soul;
for it is in the silence of meditation that the
action of our mind is not interrupted: we
experience that we have the power of recalling
past ideas, and that we can connect
those ideas with the prospect of the future,
and to various imaginary circumstances of
which we compose this picture; our reflection
is then the result, but not the work of
those exterior objects we are acquainted
with. These two words, work and result,
which in some acceptations have a great resemblance,
have here very different meanings;
and it is only in confounding them,
that the objection against the existence of
our liberty is favoured. We cannot form
any judgment, without previously discussing
236every argument proper to throw a light on
the subject; and the result of such enquiries
determines our will; but these enquiries are
themselves the work of our mind.
In short, all the degrees which lead to
the end of our intellectual researches, are
simple antecedents, and not absolute motives:
there is, in the operations of our
mind, as in every thing which is not immoveable,
a train of causes and effects; but
this train does not characterize necessity
more than liberty.
In restoring thus to our soul its original
dignity, do you not perceive, that we approach
nearer to nature, than in adopting
those systems and explications which assimilate
our intellectual faculties to the regular
vibrations of a pendulum? or would
you like better still to compare them to
those little balls which go out of their
niches to strike our brain, which by various
ramifications, produce that shock
which impels our will? I see, in all this,
237only childish figures, put in the place of
those names which indicate at least, by their
abstraction, the indefinite extent of the ideas
which they represent, and the respect they
merit. It is easy to call a motive a little
moving ball; it is easy to call uncertainty
or repentance the combat of two of these
balls, till the arrival of a third forms a determination;
and the concurrence of many
to the same point excites, in us, an impetuous
passion: but who sees not that,
after having endeavoured to debase the functions
of the mind by these wretched comparisons,
the difficulty remains undiminished?
In short, if the meditations and the researches
of our minds, on the existence and
the nature of our liberty, presents us only
impenetrable clouds and obscurity, is it not
singular, that in the midst of this darkness
we should reject all the information of our
instinctive sentiments, which only can
clearly explain every thing that we in
vain search for by other means? What
238would you say of a man born blind, who
would not be directed by the voice? We
are assuredly better instructed in the constitution
of our nature by our feelings, than by
metaphysical arguments! they compose an
internal part of the essence of our soul; and
we ought to consider them, in some measure,
as a sally of the incomprehensible formation,
whose mysteries we cannot penetrate.
Such a doctrine, which came to us
from a divine hand, is more deserving of
confidence than the interpretations of men.
There are secrets which philosophers try in
vain to explain, all their efforts are useless
to represent by comparison, that which is
alone and without resemblance.
One would think, that nature, guessing
the false reasoning which would mislead us,
has purposely bestowed an inward conviction
of the existence of our free will, in
composing our natural life of two movements
very distinct: one depends on a necessity,
whose laws we are not acquainted
with, and do not govern; whilst the other
239is entirely submitted to the government of
our reason. Such a comparison would be
sufficient to convince us, if we sought
merely for the truth.
When Spinosa desired to throw contempt
on our instinctive perceptions, he said, it is
the same as if a weather-cock, at the very
moment it was the plaything of the winds,
believed itself to be the cause, and consequently
that it had free will. What signifies
such an argument, unless it is to prove,
that it is possible to suppose a fiction so perfect,
that it would apparently be equivalent
to a reality? But I would ask, by what
foolish design of an intelligent being, or even
by what fortuitous assemblage of blind nature,
is it that man should have every moment
a will precisely conformable to his
actions, if there is not a real correspondence
between every part?
We could oppose to the hypothesis of
Spinosa another argument, which would
lead to a conclusion absolutely contrary;
that is, if the most apparent liberty may be
240only a fiction, by a particular concurrence
of our will with an action ordained; it is
also incontestible, that were we to suppose
the existence, or simple possibility of a free-will,
we could not have a different idea of
it, than that which we have already; and
the liberty of God himself would not appear
to our thoughts under any other form. It
is very essential to remark, that when we
reflect about our faculties, we with ease
imagine a superior degree of intelligence, of
knowledge, of memory, of foresight, and of
every other property of our understanding;
liberty is the only part of ourselves to which
our imagination cannot add any thing.
I shall not pursue other subtle arguments,
which have been produced, to corroborate
my opinion; it is not to some men, but to
all, that I desire to speak, because I wish to
be universally useful: I shall then always
dwell on the principal reflections, whenever
they appear to me sufficient to influence the
opinion of sound minds, and to fix them on
those important truths which are the surest
241foundation of public happiness. Self-love
might induce many to follow a question as
far as it would go, and vainly glory in
spinning it out; but self-love, applied to
profound meditations, is itself a great
subtilty.
Let us examine other arguments used to
combat principles which we have established.
It is in vain, some will say, to endeavour
to prove the existence of a God, as a
real support of the laws of morality; all
this system will fall to pieces, if we are not
informed, at the same time, in what manner
this God rewards and punishes.
I shall observe, at first, that such an objection
cannot make a very deep impression,
but when it is connected in our minds with
some doubt of the existence of a Supreme
Being: a question that I shall not yet treat;
for supposing an internal conviction of this
last truth, supposing, in all its force, the
idea of a God present to our thoughts; I
ask, whether in order to please Him, we
242should not have need of knowing precisely
the period when we could perceive distinct
signs of his approbation and beneficence?
I ask, again, whether, to avoid incurring
His displeasure, it would be equally necessary
for us to know how, and in what
manner, He would punish us? Undoubtedly
not: for in taking a comprehensive view of
the rewards and punishments which may
proceed from a Supreme Being, struck
with His grandeur, and astonished by His
power, the vague idea of infinity would
obtrude; and this idea, so awful, would
suffice to govern our sentiments, and fix
our principles of conduct. We should be
careful not to propose conditions to Him
who has drawn us out of nothing, and we
should wait with respect for the moment,
when, in His profound wisdom, He may
think proper to make us better acquainted
with His attributes. Men may say to each
other, secure my wages, I want them on such
a day, I demand them on such an hour; they
barter things of equal value, and during a
short space of time; but in the intercourse of
243man with the Deity, what a difference!—The
creature and the Creator—the child of
dust and the source of life—a fleeting moment
and eternity—an imperceptible atom
and the Infinite Being!—our understanding
is struck by the contrast! How then should
we adapt to such disproportions the rules
and notions which we have introduced into
our trivial transactions? You require that in
order to feel the desire of pleasing the Supreme
Being, He should every moment
bestow gifts on those, who, by their sentiments
and actions, appear worthy of his
goodness; and, to inspire the fear of
offending Him, you wish that, without
delay, He would let His vengeance crush
the wicked. Certainly you would be scrupulous
observers of His will on such conditions,
for less stable hopes and fears detain
you servilely near a monarch; and I
may venture to say, that you would be
equally attentive to the Ruler of the World,
if, in order to reward or punish you, he
was to alter the laws of nature.
244But do we not, you may add, see that
God does not interfere in any manner to
direct things here below: you do not perceive
Him; but do you more clearly discover
the power which gives life and motion?
It is not because He does not exist,
but because He is above the flight of your
mind. We do not know what to say to a
man who rejects the opinion of the existence
of a God; for without that guide all
our ideas are wandering, and have not any
other connexion but that of the wildest
imagination; but if you grant that the
world had an origin, if you suppose a God,
creator and preserver, what arguments would
you use to induce us to believe that this
God has no relation to us; that He does
not take any notice of us, and that He is
thus separated from the offspring of His
intelligence and love? You add, vice is
every where triumphant, an honest man
often languishes in despondency and obscurity;
and you cannot reconcile this injustice
with the idea of a Divine Providence!
One may at first deny the assertion
245which forms the basis of this reproach,
or dispute at least the consequences that are
drawn from it: these ideas of triumph and
abasement, of splendour and obscurity, are
sometimes very foreign to the internal sentiments,
which only constitute happiness and
misery; and for my part, I am persuaded,
that if we take for a rule of comparison,
not some particular situation, or some, scattered
events, but the whole of life, and the
generality of men; we shall then find,
that the most constant satisfactions attend
those minds which are filled with a mild
piety, firm and rational, such as the pure
idea of the Deity ought to inspire; and I
am equally persuaded, that virtue, united
to this piety, which knows how to soften
every sacrifice, is the safest guide in the
path of life. Perhaps, ignorant as we are
of our nature and destination, it is not our
interest that uninterrupted rewards should excite
us to virtue; for if this virtue were our
title and hope with God for the present, and
the time to come, we ought not to desire that
it should degenerate into an evident calculation,
246into a sentiment bordering on selfishness.
It would then be very difficult to
give a proper definition of liberty, if, by
the effect of rapid justice, a constant proportion
of good and evil, accompanied
every determination of our mind; we should
then, morally as well as physically, be
impelled by an imperious instinct, and the
merit of our actions would be absolutely
destroyed.
I mean by all this to ask, what would be
our merit or demerit, if our life is only for
an instant, and if nothing is to follow? The
persuasion of the existence of a God, without
a certainty of the immortality of our
soul, cannot impose any obligation; but the
real connexion between these two ideas is
too frequently overlooked.
Undoubtedly, left to our understanding,
this word certainty is not made for us, or at
least it is not applicable to our relation with
the Deity, and to the judgment we form
of his designs and will. We are too far
247removed from the High and lofty One,
who inhabiteth eternity, to pretend to measure
His thoughts by our bounded views.
They are covered with a veil, and we always
obscurely discern that which is hid in
the depths of His wisdom: but the more
this God, whom we adore, escapes by His
immensity from our conceptions, the less
have we a right to limit His perfections, in
order to refuse Him the power of transporting
our existence beyond the narrow
circle submitted to our view; and I know
not how it would be possible to persuade
us, that this action of the Deity would
surpass in grandeur the creation of the world,
or the formation of animated beings: the
habit of observing a great wonder may
weaken our astonishment, but should not
eradicate our admiration.
We cannot reach, but by reflection, to
those events of which the future is still the
depository; but if every thing which surrounds
us attests the grandeur of the Supreme
Being; if the mind, in its meditations,
248without terror, approaches the confines
of infinity, why mistrust that he can perform
in favour of men, a magnificent union
of Omnipotence and perfect goodness? Why
reject, as an absurd confidence, the idea of
another existence? We see, without astonishment,
the feeble chrysalis force its way
from the tomb it wove for itself, and appear
under a new form. We cannot be anticipated
witnesses of the perpetuity of our intelligence;
but its vast extent would appear
to us, were we not familiarized with it, a
greater phœnomenon than duration.
In short, why do I resist an idea of a
continuation of existence, since I am forced
to give credit to my birth? There is a
greater distance from nothing to life, than
from life to its sequel, or renewal under a
new form: I am clearly acquainted with
the commencement of existence, I know
death only by conjecture. We now enjoy
the light and blessings brought to us by a
beneficent heavenly Teacher; could it be,
that he alone would be a stranger to his
249own glory and virtues? I cannot say, why
this contrast makes an impression on me; but
it is among the number of superficial ideas
which occur to my mind, when I reflect on
this subject.
A comforting thought still strikes me,
the natural order of the universe appears to
me a finished system: we perceive a perfect
regularity between the revolution of the
heavenly bodies, an invariable succession in
vegetable life, an almost incredible precision
in that immense quantity of volatile particles
submitted to the laws of affinity; and
think every thing in its right place, and
that all fulfil exactly their destination in the
grand and complete system of nature.
But if we turn afterwards our attention
on the multitude of beings inferior to men,
we shall discover also, that their action is as
complete and conformable in every respect
to the faculties they are endowed with,
since they are governed by an imperious instinct.
Full of these ideas, struck with
250astonishment at the appearance of an harmony
so general, have we not just grounds
to presume, that man, transported into infinite
space by his intelligence; that man,
susceptible of improvement, and continually
combatting obstacles; that man, in short,
this most noble work of nature, only commences
in this sublunary world his race?
And, since all which composes the material
order of the universe appears to us in
an harmony so admirable, ought we not
then to conclude, that the moral order in
which we perceive some things vague and
not determinate; that the moral order
is connected with another life more sublime
and more astonishing than the other
parts of creation, and will one day be ultimately
developed? This singular disproportion
between the harmony of the physical
and apparent confusion of the moral
world, seems to announce a time of equilibrium
and completion; a time when we
shall all know its relation with the wisdom
of the Creator, as we already perceive the
wisdom of His designs, in the perfect agreement
251of the innumerable blessings on sature
with the present wants of man, and
every other animated creature.
The grandeur of the human mind is indeed
a vast subject of reflection; this marvellous
constitution seems to remind us perpetually
of a design proportioned to such a
noble conception; it seems almost unnecessary
that God should have endowed the soul
with such noble faculties for such a short
life as ours, to fulfil its limited plans and
trivial pursuits: thus every thing authorizes
us to carry our views further; were I to see
such men as Columbus, Vesputius, Vasco
de Gama, in a ship, I should not suppose
that they were mere coasters.
Some try to destroy our hopes, by endeavouring
to prove, that the soul is material,
and that it ought to be assimilated to every
thing which perishes before us; but the
forms only change, the vivifying force does
not perish; perhaps the soul resembles it,
but with this difference, that as it is composed
252of memory, reflection, and foresight,
it exists only by a series of consequences,
which forms the distinct attributes and particular
character of its essence: it follows
then, that it cannot be generalized like the
blind force which animates in a universal
manner vegetation; but that every soul is
in some measure a world to itself, and that
it ought to preserve separately an identity
of interest, and consciousness of preceding
thoughts. Thus, in this system, the corporeal
body, which distinguishes us to the
eyes of others, is only the transitory habitation
of that soul which is not to die; of that
soul susceptible of continual improvement,
and which, by degrees we can have no
idea of, will probably approach insensibly
to that magnificent period, when it will be
thought worthy of knowing more intimately
the Author of Nature.
How can we conceive the action of the
soul on our senses, without a point of contact?
and how conceive that contact,
without the idea of matter? For it is only
253by experience we are acquainted with the
necessity of it to occasion a motion; and
without that previous knowledge, the rapidity
with which one body sometimes
strikes another, could only have been represented
by the length of time necessary
for its approach to it: however, if we had
not any metaphysical knowledge of the
cause of motion, and if experience only
guided our judgment in this respect, why
resist an idea that there is within us a faculty
which acts of itself? the intimate feeling
which we have of it, is certainly an argument
for its existence. We cannot, besides,
maintain, that a like property may be opposite
to the nature of things; since if we
adopt the system of the creation of the
world, this property may proceed, like all
others, from the Divine Power; and if we
admit, on the contrary, the irreligious opinion
of the eternity of the universe, there
must have been from eternity a general
movement without impulsion, without exterior
contact, or any cause out of itself;
254and the action of our souls might be subject
to the same laws.
The idea of the necessity of a contact, to
effect a movement, would never have occurred,
if we had bounded our observations
to the influence of our ideas on our determinations,
and the influence of those determinations
on our physical being. In short,
the laws of attraction and repulsion are subject
to great exceptions; which exceptions
may serve to support the system of the
spirituality of the soul. We may be allowed
to say, that there exists a vacuum in
the universe, since, without this vacuum,
there could not have been any motion? It
is known that this motion depends on the
laws of attraction but how can attraction
act through a vacuum, unless it is by a
spiritual force, which acts without contact,
and notwithstanding the absolute interruption
of matter? It is then this force, or
its equivalent, that I may adopt to define
the cause of the impressions of which our
souls are susceptible.
255Let others explain, in their turn, by
what material communication, the sight of
a few immoveable characters, traced on insensible
marble, disturbs my soul. It is
very easy to comprehend by what mechanism
the eye distinguishes these characters;
but there ends the physical action, for we
cannot attribute to that action, the general
power of producing sensations in the mind,
since, perhaps, many other men may consider
the same characters, without receiving
any impression.
It is very possible, that our intellectual
preceptions have not any connection with
motion, such as we conceive it. Our interior
nature, which we distinguish by the
name of immaterial, is probably subject to
laws very different from those which govern
nature in general; but as we are obliged to apply
to the mysteries of our souls, those expressions
which serve to delineate or to interpret
the phœnomena submitted to our inspection;
these expressions, and their continual
use, have insensibly habituated us to certain
256opinions, about the causes and developement
of our intellectual faculties. It is
thus that, after having used the words motion,
rest, agitation, and action, to discriminate
different affections of our souls, of
which we know very little, we have afterwards
assimilated them, foolishly, to our
moral nature, to all the ideas which were
represented by these denominations; and
even death itself, of which we have not any
clear knowledge, but by the dissolution of
our physical being; death, an image borrowed
from things which are under the inspection
of our senses, has not, perhaps,
either relation or analogy with the nature
and essence of our spirit; all these are incomprehensible
secrets, not mixt with any
thing we are acquainted with.
We act, in this respect, like men born
deaf, who apply to sounds those terms
which they were accustomed to use, to
express the sensations the other senses produced.
257I shall only add another observation to
the ideas on which I have just dwelt: perhaps
we should never have thought of applying
the words which express action and
motion, to all the operations of our souls,
if we had not at first divided our spiritual
being into a great number of dependencies,
such as attention, reflection, thought, judgment,
imagination, memory, and foresight;
and if afterwards, in order to render intelligible
the variable relations of these abstract
parts of our mind (these parts of a
unit which we have taken to pieces, though
it composed that single being ourself) we
had not been obliged to have recourse to
some plain expressions, like those of action,
motion, attraction, and repulsion; but this
familiar use of these expressions, in order to
explain the accidents of our intellectual system,
very much resembles the use which
we make of X in Algebra, to express unknown
terms.
In short, were we to submit the action
of our souls to the laws of a particular
258movement, forming one of the dependencies
of the great one, we should still have to
explain the cause of the consciousness that
we have of this action, which Atheists
refuse to nature itself, at the very moment
they make it the God of the Universe.
Were reasoning able to subject all the operations
of our mind to the impressions of
external objects, we could not rank under the
same laws, that consciousness which we
have of our existence, and of the different
faculties of the soul. This consciousness is
not an effect, or the production of any
known force, since it has been always in us
independent of any external object, consequently
we cannot investigate it. The conception
of the existence of our souls, is as
incomprehensible to us as that of eternity;
what a profound thought, which even our
imagination cannot embrace!
Let us admit, however, for a moment,
that all the operations of our souls are determined
by some impulsion, whatever it may
be, we shall still be struck with the absolute
259difference which exists, according to
our knowledge between the regular movements
of matter, and the almost infinite and
unaccountable emotions of our hearts and
minds; so variable and so differently modified,
that the attention is lost in the examination
of them. And after having vainly
endeavoured to conceive the union established
between our thoughts and exterior
objects, we have still to form an idea of the
actions of these thoughts on themselves,
their progression and connection; our mind
led astray, lost in such a meditation, leaves
us only a consciousness of our weakness,
and we feel, that there is an intellectual altitude
which the human faculties can never
reach.
We distinguish, in a single character
which our judgment can decypher, an absolute
difference between soul and matter:
we cannot avoid representing the latter as
infinitely divisible, whilst, on the contrary,
all the efforts of our imagination could
never divide that indivisible unit which
260composes the soul, and which is the sovereign
over our will, thoughts, and all our
faculties[5].
But if we examine again, under another
appearance, the properties of matter, we
know not how to assimilate to them the
emotions of our soul; for we distinctly feel
those emotions, let their number be ever so
numerous, when even they act together and
terminate in the same center, which is that
Indivisible Being before alluded to; whereas
matter, by an essential property, cannot, in
the same instant be pressed or struck in several
261manners, unless it is in parts which
have a tendency to different centres.
There is not then any resemblance between
the impressions that our souls receive,
and the various effects which may be attributed
to the action of all the material substances
of which we can form any conception:
they are always connected with
the idea of space and extent; but that centre,
where all our perceptions meet, that
Judge, who dictates laws in the internal
empire, whose revolutions we only know,
that last Director of our will, this Indivisible
Being, at the same time our friend and
master, is not to be found in any compounded
idea; and this unity so simple,
ought necessarily to convince us, that nothing
which is submitted to the dominion of
our senses, can serve as a type of the idea
which we are to form of the soul.
We discover the traces of this truth,
when we fix our attention on the comparisons
with which our spiritual unit,
262our identical self, is continually occupied:
we imagine it seated on a throne, listening,
and examining the various reasons which
ought to determine its action; we see it,
like Nero, yielding sometimes to Narcissus,
and sometimes to Burrhus; but at the same
time we distinctly perceive all the counsellors,
all the flatterers, all the enemies
which surround it; we never remark but
a single master in the midst of the tumult
and the intrigues of this court.
Whilst our soul then is thrown into motion
by contemplation, and by the imperceptible
modification of a fugitive idea, as
well as by every thing which is opposed to
material action, why should we not suppose
that it is purely intelligent and spiritual? It
must be confessed, that sometimes our corporeal
infirmities influence our minds; but
this relation is not a proof of identity, since
our body may be an instrument entrusted to
our soul, one of the organs which it is to
make a transitory use of. The continuity
of existence, considered abstractedly, certainly
263is in the universe a simple and natural state;
and the temporary existence is perhaps the
only one which is heterogeneous and accidental;
the soul seems too noble to be assimilated
to the latter state, it may exist in a
different manner when joined to a material
substance, but that connection does not
make it lose its original essence.
It is to be acknowledged, that it is
through the medium of our senses we know
all the force of our existence; and that they
are those parts of our mixt being which
strike us most during a little while; and it
is perhaps by a law of the same kind that
we see men, engrossed by a great passion,
entirely strangers to every other moral affection;
but, why should it be contrary to
the nature of things, that the soul, once
stripped of its terrestrial cloathing, should
be acquainted with the nature of its existence,
and at the same time perceive those
truths which now are obscured by clouds.
An innate fire languishes a long time unknown
in a rough stone, that stone is
264struck, and we see issue out a splendid light;
this is perhaps a faint picture of the state in
which our soul is when death breaks its
fetters.
In short, in a matter so obscure every
supposition is admissable, which assures us
that the soul is not on earth in a state
of enchantment, or in a kind of interruption
of its ordinary existence. All that we
see of the universe is an assemblage of incomprehensible
phœnomena; and when we
wish to discover the conclusion, through the
aid of the ideas most on a level with our
intelligence, we wander perhaps from truth;
since, according to appearances, it is in the
depths of infinity that it reposes.
I doubt, whether we can allow the authority
of those metaphysical arguments
which are made use of to defend the spirituality
of the soul to be decisive; but they
are sufficient to repulse the different attacks
of materialists. The most evident opinion
to me is, that we are too weak to comprehend
265the secret we search for. We have,
according to our petty knowledge, divided
the universe into two parts, spirit and matter;
but this division serves only to distinguish
the little we know from that which
we have no knowledge of; there is perhaps
an infinite gradation between the different
properties which compose motion and life,
instinct and intelligence; we can only express
the ideas conceived by our understandings,
and the general words which
we make use of, serve only to detect the vain
ambition of our mind; but with respect to
the universe, in considering its immensity,
we shall find, that there is sufficient space
for all the shades and modifications we have
no idea of. We confess, that it is the connection
between our physical powers and
intellectual faculties, and the action that
they seem to have on each other, which
nourishes our doubts and anxieties; but
without this relation, without the appearance
of our fall, all would be distinct in the
fate of man, all would be manifest. It is
then, because that there is a shade in the
266midst of the picture, which continually
catches our attention, that we have need to
collect the light of the mind and the
feelings, in order to see in perspective our
destiny; and it is from this motive that we
find it necessary, above all, to be penetrated
with the idea of a God, and to search for,
in his power and goodness, the last explication
which we want.
There is, in the judgments of men, a
contrast which I have often been struck
with. Those people, who, at the sight of
the immensity of the universe, at the view
of the wonders in the midst of which they
are placed, fear not to attribute to our intellectual
faculties the power of interpreting
and understanding every thing, and even the
capacity of attaining almost to the hidden
secrets of our nature; these same people are
nevertheless most eager to strip the soul of
its true dignity, and the most obstinate in
refusing it spirituality and duration, and
every thing else which can exalt it.
267But happily, these refusals or concessions
fix not our fate: the nature of the soul will
always be as unknown as the essence of the
Supreme Being; and it is one of the proofs
of its grandeur, to be wrapped up in the
same mysteries which hide from us the universal
spirit. But there are simple ideas and
sentiments, which seem to bring along with
them more comfort and hope than metaphysical
arguments.
We cannot profoundly meditate on the
marvellous attributes of thought; we cannot
attentively contemplate the vast empire
which has been submitted to it, or reflect on
the faculty with which it is endowed, of
fixing the past, approaching the future, and
bringing into a small compass the expanded
views of nature, and of containing, if I may
use the phrase, in one point the infinity of
space, and the immensity of time; we cannot
consider such a wonder, without continually
uniting a sentiment of admiration to the idea
of an end worthy of such a grand conception,
worthy of Him whose wisdom we
268adore. Shall we, however, be able to discover
this end, in the passing breath, in the
fleeting moments which compose life? Shall
we be able to discover it in a succession of
phantoms, which seem destined only to
trace the progress of time? Shall we, above
all, perceive it in this general system of destruction?
and ought we to annihilate in the
same manner the insensible plant, which perishes
without having known life; and the
intelligent man, who every day explores the
charms of existence? Let us not thus degrade
our fate and nature; and let us judge
and hope better of that which is unknown.
Life, which is a means of improvement,
should not lead to an eternal death; the
mind, that prolific source of knowledge,
should not be lost in the dark shades of forgetfulness;
sensibility and all its mild and
pure emotions, which so tenderly unite us
to others, and enliven our days, ought not
to be dissipated as if it were the vapour of a
dream; conscience, that severe judge was
not intended to deceive us; and piety and
virtue are not vainly to elevate our views
269towards that model of affection, the object
of our love and adoration. The Supreme
Being, to whom all times belong, seems already
to have sealed our union with futurity
by endowing us with foresight, and placing
in the recesses of our heart the passionate
desire of a longer duration, and the confused
sentiment which it gives of obtaining it.
There are some relations still obscure, some
connections between our moral nature and
futurity; and perhaps our wishes, our hopes,
are a sixth sense, a faint sense, if I may be
allowed to express myself so, of which we
shall one day experience the satisfaction.
Sometimes also I imagine, that love, the
most noble ornament of our nature, love,
sublime enchantment, is a mysterious pledge
of the truth of these hopes; for in disengaging
us from ourselves, transporting us
beyond the limits of our being, it seems the
first step towards an immortal nature; and
in presenting to us the idea, in offering to
us the example of an existence out of ourselves,
it seems to interpret by our feelings
that which our minds cannot comprehend.
270In short, and this reflection is the most
awful of all, when I see the mind of man
grasp at the knowledge of a God; when I see
him, at least, draw near to such a grand idea;
such a sublime degree of elevation prepares
me, in some manner, for the high destiny
of the soul; I search for a proportion between
this immense thought and all the interests
of the world, and I discover none;
I search for a proportion between these
boundless meditations and the narrow picture
of life, and I perceive none: there
is then, I doubt not, some magnificent
secret beyond all that we can discern;
some astonishing wonder behind this curtain
still unfurled; on all sides we discover
the commencement of it. How imagine,
how resolve the thought, that all
which affects and animates us, all which
guides and captivates us, is a series of
enchantments, an assemblage of illusions?
The universe and its majestic pomp would
then have been only destined to serve as the
theater of a vain representation; and such
a grand idea, so magnificent a conception
271would have had for an object a mere dazzling
chimera. What would then have
signified that mixture of real beauties and
false appearances? What had signified that
concourse of phantoms, which, without
design or end, would be less admirable than
a ray of light, destined to enlighten our
abode? In short, what had signified in men
that union of sublime thoughts and deceitful
hopes? Guard us from giving credit to
such a supposition! Is it to Him then, whose
power has not any limits, that we dare to
attribute the artifices of weakness? Should
we have seen every where order, design, and
exactness, as far as our understanding can
reach, and as soon as we are arrived at the utmost
boundary of our faculties, should we
stop the views of the Supreme Intelligence,
and imagine that all is finished, because futurity
is unknown? Alas! we endure but
a moment, and we presume to know the
past and the future! But grant us only the
idea of a God; do not deprive us of our
confidence in Him; it is in relying on that
grand truth, that we shall be able to guard
272our hopes against all the metaphysical arguments
which we are not immediately
prepared to answer.
Would you object, that hope is not sufficient
to determine men to the observance of
morality, and to subject them to the sacrifices
which the practice of virtue seems to
impose? What then attracts them, in all
the bustle of life, unless it is hope; what
is it that renders them greedy of honour
and of fortune, unless it is expectation?
And when they obtain the object of their
wishes, they have frequently only the imaginary
advantages hope created. Why then
would you ask for a demonstrated certainty,
in order to devote yourself to all the researches
which the human mind can conceive
to be the most grand, the most worthy
of an ardent pursuit? On the contrary,
the most trifling degree of expectation should
become a motive of encouragement. And
what is it, of all our interests, which could
be put in competition with the most fugitive
idea, with the slightest hope of pleasing
273the Master of the World, and maintaining
the intercourse which seems to be indicated
by our natural sentiments, and by the first
perceptions of our minds?
I would wish to go still further, and I
would demand, not of all men, but of some
at least, if, were even this life to be their
only heritage, they would think themselves
freed from the desire of pleasing the Sovereign
Author of Nature. The moment
that is given us to know and admire
Him, would it not still be a blessing? We
celebrate the memory of those princes who
have done good to men; are we not to do
the same with Him to whom we are indebted
for our existence; to Him who has
contrived, if I may be allowed to say so,
the various enjoyments we are so unwilling
to detach ourselves from? Shall we
dare, weak and ignorant as we are, to
measure the wisdom, and calculate the
power of our Benefactor, and rashly reproach
him for not having done more
for us? This would be the language
274of ingratitude. But, as I have shown, our
sentiments have not been put to this test;
and it is on more liberal terms that we have
been admitted to treat with the Supreme
Being: He has surrounded us with every
thing that can encourage our expectations;
He allows us, by contemplation, to attain
almost a knowledge of his perfections; He
lets us read them in that collection of glory
and magnificence which the universe displays;
He permits us to perceive his power
and goodness, infinity and happiness; and
by that succession of ideas he has guided
our wishes and our hopes. How grand is
the contemplation of the Eternal, they who
have sensibility can tell! But this idea
should be very early implanted in the human
heart, it is necessary that it should be
connected with our first feelings, that it
should rise by degrees, in order to gain
strength before men are thrown into
the midst of that world which boasts of
being freed from childish prejudices; left,
hurried along by its levity, they follow every
275day a new master, and render themselves
the slaves of pleasure and vanity.
And that which is to maintain, amongst
men, the principles first inculcated, is public
worship, an idea as beautiful as simple, and
the most proper to vivify all that is vague and
abstract in reasoning and instruction: public
worship, in assembling men, and in turning
them without public shame to their weaknesses,
and in equalising every individual before
the Master of the world, will be, in
this point of view a grand lesson of morality;
but this worship, besides, habitually
reminds some of their duty, and is for others
a constant source of consolation; in short,
almost all men, astonished and overwhelmed
by the ideas of grandeur and infinity, which
the appearance of the universe, and the exercise
of their own thoughts, present to
them, aspire to find repose in the sentiment
of adoration which unites them in a
more intimate manner to God, than the
developement of their reason ever will.
276We should guard ourselves carefully from
despising the emotions of piety, which
cannot be separated from its advantages;
and philosophers themselves know not how
far they would go, when they try to reduce
the interests of men to the narrow circle
of demonstrated truths: that which we
perceive confusedly, is more precious than
all we have a certain knowledge of; that
which we anticipate, is of more value than
the blessings scattered round us. Thus, we
should be miserably impoverished, if they
could retrench from the various comforts
which we shall never possess, but
through the aid of the imagination. However,
if we take this imagination as a guide
and encouragement, when we are engaged
in the pursuits of fortune and ambition,
and if the wise themselves find that to be good
which serves to nourish our passions, why
would you reject it, when, simply more
grand and more sublime in its object, it becomes
the support of our weaknesses, the
safeguard of our principles, and the source
of our most interesting consolations?
277It is the part of legislators to study
these truths, and to direct towards them the
spirit of laws, and the uncertain course of
opinions. How honourable is it for them
to be called to form the august alliance
which is to unite happiness with morality,
and morality with the existence of a God!
CHAP. XII. That there is a God.
278
That there is a God! How is it possible
to avoid being penetrated with
an awful respect in uttering these words?
How reflect on them without the deepest
humility, and even an emotion of surprise,
that man, this weak creature, this atom dispersed
in the immensity of space, undertakes
to add some weight to a truth, of
which all nature is the splendid witness?
However, if this truth is our supreme good,
if we are nothing without it, how can we
banish it from our minds? Does it not constrain
us to dwell continually on the subject?
Compared with it, all other thoughts
are insignificant and uninteresting; it gives
birth to, and sustains all the sentiments on
which the happiness of an intelligent creature
depends. I confess I tremblingly discussed
the different objections which are
279employed to destroy our confidence in the
existence of a Supreme Being; I dreaded
the melancholy which those arguments
produced; I was afraid to feel the impression
of it myself, and thus to hazard the
opinion most dear to my heart, and most
essential to my happiness; it appeared to
me, that a few general ideas, supported by
lively feelings, would have been sufficient
for my tranquillity; and without an interest
more extended, without the desire
of opposing, according to my powers, a
spirit of indifference and false philosophy,
which is every day gaining ground, I should
never have stepped beyond my circle. But,
I am far from regretting the part I have
taken: I have ran over, without much
trouble, those books where the most pernicious
doctrines are ingeniously disseminated;
and have thought that a person, endowed
with common sense, on whom metaphysical
subtleties were obtruded, would
resemble those savages who are brought
sometimes amongst us, and who, from
the depraved refinement of our morals and
280manners, have often recalled us, by some
natural reflections, to those simple principles
which we have abandoned, to those ancient
truths whose vestiges are lost.
The whole structure of religion would be
overturned, if, by the strength or artifices
of reasoning, men could destroy our confidence
in the existence of a Supreme Being:
morality, being detached from the opinions
which sustain it, would remain a wavering,
unsupported notion, only defended by a policy,
whose power time would insensibly
weaken. A fatal languor invading every
mind, where would be that universal interest,
that sentiment felt by all men, and
proper to form a general alliance between
them? Then those, who, with pure intentions,
can only be guided and sustained by
an intimate persuasion, would retire sad,
and leave to others the care of supporting
moral order by fictions and falsehoods; they
would pity that dismayed race, called to appear
and pass away like flowers, which
bloom but for a day; they would despise
281those animated phantoms which only come
to make a buz with their vanity and trivial
passions, and fall in a little while into eternal
oblivion. All that appears beautiful in
the universe, and excites our enthusiasm, would
soon lose its splendour and enchantment, if
we perceived nothing in this brilliant scene
but the play of some atoms, and the uniform
walk of blind necessity; for it is always
because a thing may be otherwise,
that it acquires a claim to our admiration:
in short, that soul, that spirit, which vivifies
man, that faculty of thought which surprises
and confounds those who reflect,
would only appear a vain movement, if nothing
was before, or was to follow, if some
unknown breath, or general intelligence,
did not animate nature. But we have dwelt
too long on those gloomy thoughts; reassume
your light and life, admirable works
of God; come and confound the pride of
some, and comfort others; come and take
possession of our souls, and direct our affections
towards Him whom we ought to love,
282towards Him who is the eternal model of
perfect wisdom, and unlimitted goodness!
I shall not endeavour to prove that there
is a God, by reciting all the wonders the
works of nature display to our eyes; several
celebrated writers have already done it, and
have missed their aim. Infinity can only
be represented by astonishment and respect,
which overwhelms all our thoughts: and
when we labour to explain the successive
and varied picture of the wonders of nature,
this change of objects is more calculated to
relax our admiration than to increase it;
for any change eases our mind, by affording
those relaxations which our weakness has
need of; and if we were to investigate only
one phœnomenon, we should soon discover
the utmost extent of our faculties. We
find the limits of our understanding in the
examination of the organization of the
smallest insect, as well as in observing the faculties
of the soul; and the mysteries of the
simplest vegetation is as far above the reach
283of our intelligence, as the principal agent
of the universe.
It is then as a hymn of praise to the
Supreme Being, and not as necessary instruction
that I freely follow the course of
my thoughts. I shall begin by throwing a
rapid glance on the principal characters of
wisdom and grandeur, which we are all
equally struck with, when we contemplate
the wonder of the universe.
What a sight is that of the world!
What a magnificent picture for those who
can be roused out of the state of indifference,
in which habit has thrown them.
We know not where to begin, or stop,
when we expatiate on so many wonders;
and the most noble of all is, the faculty
which has been bestowed on us of admiring
and conceiving them. What an astonishing
and sublime relation is that of the innumerable
beauties of nature, with the intelligence
which permits us to enjoy, and to be
284made happy by them! What relation
so surprising, as that of the order and
harmony of the universe, with the moral
intelligence which enables us to anticipate
the enjoyments of wisdom and unclouded
knowledge! Nature is immense, and all
that it contains, all that it spreads with so
much splendour, seems within the reach of
our sensibility, or the powers of our mind;
and these faculties, invisible and incomprehensible,
unite to form, that wonder of
wonders, which we call felicity. Let not
these plain words turn our attention from
the magical ideas which they represent. It
is because the grand phœnomena of our existence
cannot either be defined or expressed
many ways, that they are so much more
wonderful; and those words, used by
common consent, soul, mind, sensation,
life, happiness, and many others besides,
which we pronounce so slightly, confound
not less our understanding, when we wish
to discuss the essence of the properties of
which they are the sign. It is for this
285reason, among several others, that the
admiration of particulars, in the works
of nature, is always insufficient for those
who have sensibility, as such admiration
is necessarily placed between two ideas
susceptible of being known; ideas which
we connect through the aid of our own
knowledge; but the charm of our relation
with the wonders which surround
us, arises from experiencing every instant
the impression of an infinite grandeur; and
feeling the necessity of flying to that mild
refuge of ignorance and weakness, the sublime
idea of a God. We are continually
carried towards this idea by the vain efforts
which we make, in order to penetrate the
secrets of our own nature; and when I fix my
attention on those astonishing mysteries,
which seem to terminate, in some manner,
the power of our thoughts, I represent
them with emotion, as the only barrier
which separates us from the infinite spirit,
the source of all knowledge.
286Men endowed with the greatest genius,
perceive quickly the bounds of their faculties
when they wish to go very far in the
study of abstract metaphysical truths; but
the simplest and least exercised mind, can
distinguish the proofs of that order, which
announces with so much splendour the end
and design of sovereign wisdom. It seems,
that all the knowledge proper to interest
men has been placed within their reach.
The learned astronomer, observing the
course of our globe round the sun, perceives
the cause of that regular succession
of repose and vegetation, which secures the
earth its fecundity, and adorns every season
with renewed beauties; but the simple cultivator,
who sees the treasurers of the earth
renovated every year, and answer, with
singular precision, to the wants of animated
beings, is not less a witness of a phœnomenon
which is sufficient to excite his admiration
and gratitude! Newton analyzed
light, and calculated the swiftness with
which it runs over the immensity of space;
but the ignorant herdsman, who sees, when
287he wakes, his hut enlightened by the same
rays which animate all nature, is equally
benefitted by them. The indefatigable
anatomist attains a just idea of our inimitable
structure, and the ingenious texture of
our different organs; but the man most
devoid of instruction, who reflects an instant
on the pleasures, and the variety of
the sensations, which we find ourselves susceptible
of, partakes the blessing equally.
The transcendent knowledge of some
people, is a degree of superiority which disappears
when contrasted with the incomprehensible
grandeur of nature; when we
contemplate infinity, those talents which
exalt one man above another are no more
seen; and probably it is beyond the limits
of our intelligence that the greatest wonders
of nature begin. The knowledge of all
ages has not explained what is the imperious
authority of our will over our actions,
nor how our thoughts could reach the most
remote ages, how our souls could investigate
288that innumerable multitude of present objects,
of recollections and anticipations;
neither has it informed us how all those
excellencies of the mind, sometimes remain
unknown to itself, nor how they
are sometimes at its command, issuing
out of their long obscurity, and succeeding
each other with method, or are profusely
poured forth. At the sight of these astonishing
phœnomena, we think man presumptuous,
when, puffed up with pride,
he mistakes the measure of his strength and
wishes to penetrate into the secrets, whose
confines are shut by an invisible hand. He
should be content to know, that his existence
is united to so many wonders; he
should be satisfied with being the principal
object of the liberality of nature, and he
should adore with reverential respect that
powerful Sovereign, who bestows so many
blessings on him, and who has made him
to sympathize with all the powers of heaven
and earth.
289The globe on which we live runs over
every year a space of two hundred millions
of leagues; and in this immense course,
its distance from the sun, determined by
immutable laws, is exactly proportioned to
the degree of the temperature necessary to
our feeble nature, and to the successive return
of that precious vegetation, without
which no animated being could subsist.
That celestial body, which fertilizes the
seeds of life shut up in the bosom of the
earth, is, at the same time, the source of
that light which opens to our view the
glorious sight of the universe. The rays
of the sun run over in eight minutes about
thirty millions of leagues: such an impetuous
motion would be sufficient to pulverize
the largest masses of matter; but, by an
admirable combination, such is the incomprehensible
tenuity of these rays, that they
strike the most tender of our organs, not
only without wounding it; but with a measure
so delicate and precise, that they excite
in us those extatic sensations, which are the
290origin and the indispensable condition of
our greatest enjoyments.
Man, in immensity, is only an imperceptible
point; and yet, by his senses and
intelligence, he seems in communication
with the whole universe; but how pleasant
and peaceable is this communication! It is
almost that of a prince with his subjects:
all is animated round man, all relates to his
desires and wants; the action of the elements,
every thing on earth, like the rays
of light, seems to be proportioned to his
faculties and strength; and whilst the celestial
bodies move with a rapidity which
terrifies our imagination, and whilst they
hurry along in their course our dwelling,
we are tranquil in the bosom of an asylum,
and under the protecting shelter allotted
us; we enjoy there in peace a
multitude of blessings, which, by another
wonderful affinity, ally themselves to our
taste, and all the sentiments we are endowed
with.
291In short, and it is another favour, man
is permitted to be, in some things, the contriver
of his own happiness, by his will and
ingenuity; he has embellished his habitation,
and united several ornaments to the
simple beauties of nature; he has improved,
by his care, the salutary plants; and even in
those which seemed the most dangerous he
has discovered some wholesome property,
and carefully separated it from the envenomed
parts which surrounded it; he can
soften metals, and make them serve to augment
his strength; he obliges the marble
to obey him, and assume what form
he desires; he gives laws to the elements,
or circumscribes their empire; he
stops the invasion of the sea; he restrains
the rivers in their natural bed, and sometimes
obliges them to take a different
course, in order to spread their benign influence;
he erects a shelter against the fury
of the winds, and by an ingenious contrivance,
makes use of that impetuous force,
which he could not at first dream of defending
292himself from; even the fire, whose
terrible action seems to presage destruction,
he subjugates, and renders it, if I may so
express myself, the confident of his industry,
and the companion of his labours.
What a source of reflections is this dominion
of the mind over the most dreadful
effects of the movement of blind matter.
It seems as if the Supreme Being, in submitting
thus to the intelligence of men
the most powerful elements, chose to give
us an anticipation of the empire which
His sovereign wisdom has over the universe.
However, it is in the influence of our
spiritual faculties on themselves, that we
observe, above all, their admirable nature;
we see, with astonishment, the perfections
which they acquire by their own action.
Intelligence, considered in a general manner,
undoubtedly is a great phœnomenon; but
it is a still greater wonder, to see the
293thoughts of a man reach, by the most ingenious
means, the knowledge of others,
and form an alliance between the past and
present productions of the mind. It is by
such an alliance that the sciences have been
improved, and that the mind of man has
been acquainted with all its strength. The
mighty of the earth cannot break this association,
nor subject to their tyrannic divisions
the noble heritage of knowledge; this
gift, so precious, preserves the stamp of a
divine hand;—and no one has yet been able
to say it is mine.
The most noble use that has ever been
made of the admirable union of so many
talents, and so much knowledge, was to demonstrate
how every thing in nature relates
to the idea of a first cause; which forcibly
announces a design full of wisdom, and a
beneficent intention; but now, unhappily,
these proofs of the existence of a God are
not sufficient; imperious philosophers have
laboured to subvert every thing founded on
the connection and wonderful harmony of
294the system of nature; it is not sufficient to
oppose to these new opinions the mere authority
of final causes; they do not contest
that there is a perfect conformity between
our desires and wants, between our senses
and the bounties of nature; they do not
contest, from the cedar to the hyssop, from
the insect to man, that there is a beauty of
proportion in the whole, which is to be
found equally in the relation that objects
have with each other, as well as in their
different parts; but this admirable harmony,
in which the pious man, the man of
feeling, perceives with delight the stamp of
an eternal intelligence; others less fortunate,
undoubtedly, obstinately present it to us as a
fortuitous collision, as a play of atoms agitated
by a blind movement, or as nature itself,
existing thus from all eternity. What
trouble they take to invent and defend these
systems destructive of our happiness and
hopes! I prefer my feelings to all this philosophy;
but, to avoid an encounter would be
to favour their presumption, and give additional
strength to their opinions.
295Thus I shall treat the most important
question that man can consider. I shall
endeavour first to show, that the different
conjectures on the origin of the
world all centre in the single opinion of
the eternal and necessary existence of every
thing which is; and I shall afterwards
compare the basis of that system with the
reason of that happy and simple belief
which unites the idea of a Supreme Being
with all we see and know; in short, to the
universe, the most unlimitted of our conceptions.
CHAP. XIII. The same Subject continued.
296
When we see the authors of the
different systems, concerning the
formation of the world, reject the idea of a
God, under the pretext, that this idea is
foreign to the nature of our perceptions,
should we not have a right to expect some
better substitute for it? But, far from answering
our expectations, they abandon
themselves to all the wanderings of the
most fantastic imagination. In fact, whether
we refer the origin of the universe to
the effect of hazard, the fortuitous concourse
of atoms, or whether we establish another
hypothesis derived from the same principle,
it is necessary at least to suppose the eternal
existence of an innumerable multitude of
little particles of matter, placed without order
in the immensity of space; and to suppose,
afterwards, that these atoms, disseminated
297to infinity, attracted each other, and
corresponded by the inherent properties of
their nature; and that there resulted, from
their adhesion, not only organized, but intelligent
faculties; it is necessary, in short,
to suppose, that all those incomprehensible
atoms have been settled with admirable order
through the effect of a blind motion,
and by the result of some of the possible
chances in the infinity of accidental combinations.
Indeed, after so many suppositions
without example or foundation, that of an
Intelligent Being, soul and director of the
universe, had been more analogous and more
consonant with our knowledge.
Let us return to the hypothesis we have
just mentioned. We shall then recognize
the trifling habit of the mind; it is accustomed
to proceed from simple to compound
ideas, every time it meditates, invents, or
executes: thus, by an inverse method, the
composers of systems have thought, that,
in order to connect the universe to its origin,
it was sufficient to detach, by the exercise
298of thinking, all its parts, and to break
and subdivide them afterwards to infinity;
but whatever may be the tenuity of these
atoms, their existence, having organized and
intellectual properties, which we should be
obliged to grant them, would be a wonder
almost equal to those phœnomena which
surround us.
When we see a plant grow, embellished
with different colours, we only think of the
period when its vegetation may be perceived
by our senses; but the seed of this plant,
or if you like better, the organized atoms,
the first principle of this seed, would have
offered also a grand subject of admiration,
if we had been endowed with the faculties
necessary to penetrate into the occult secrets
of nature. But perhaps, in transforming
into an imperceptible powder all the
parts of matter, which have been collected
to compose the world, we have only before
our eyes a fugitive vapour, to which even
our imagination cannot reach; and those
who unfortunately love and defend this admiration,
299find besides, in the system of divisible
atoms, means to defer, according to
their fancy, the moment of their astonishment.
All these fantastic combinations serve
only to lead us astray in our researches;
and I do not think it a matter of indifference
to make a general observation.
The study of the first elements, of all
the sciences which we acquire, such as
geometry, languages, civil legislation, and
several others, appear to us the simplest
parts of our instruction. It is not the
same, when we seek to know the laws
of the physical world; for the works of nature
never appear more simple than in their
compounded state; they are then, to our
mind, that which harmony is to the ear;
it is the agreement of all parts which forms
a union perfectly proportioned to our intelligence.
Thus, man, for example, that
wonderful alliance of so many different faculties,
does not astonish our understanding,
but appears to us in one point of view,
300a simple idea; but we are troubled, and,
as it were, dismayed, when we try to analyze
him, or mount to the elements of his
liberty, will, thought, and all the other
properties of his nature.
We only advance towards infinity, and
consequently towards the most profound
darkness, when we destroy the world in order
to divide it into atoms, out of the midst
of which we make it issue afresh, after having
rallied all we have dispersed.
Let us admit, for a moment, that there
exists organized and intelligent atoms, and
that they are such, either by their nature,
or by their adhesion to other atoms. We
are now, of all these scattered atoms, to
compose the universe, that master-piece of
harmony, and perfect assemblage of every
beauty and variety, that inexhaustible source
of every sentiment of admiration; and in
rejecting the idea of a God, creator and preserver,
we must have recourse to the power
of chance, that is to say, to the effects of
301an unknown continual motion, which,
without any rule, produces, in a limited
time, all the combinations imaginable; but,
in order to effect an infinite variety of combinations,
it is not only necessary to admit
a continual motion, but besides, to suppose
this continual motion changes its direction
in all the parts of space subject to its influence.
The existence of such a change,
and a similar diversity in the laws of motion,
is a new supposition which may be ranked
with the other wild ones.
However, after these chimerical systems
have been granted, we are not freed
from the difficulties which the notion of the
formation of the world by a fortuitous concourse
of atoms produces.
It is difficult to comprehend how particles
of matter, agitated in every manner,
and susceptible, as has been supposed, of an
infinity of different adhesions, should not
have formed such a mixture, such a contexture,
as would have rendered, the harmonious
302composition of the universe in all
its parts, impossible.
When we represent to ourselves, abstractedly,
the unlimmitted number of chances
that may be attributed to a blind movement,
the imagination, unable to conceive,
is left to guess how an infinite number of
atoms, endowed with a property of uniting
themselves, under an infinite diversity of
movements, could compose the heavenly bodies;
but, as long before that period, when
such an accidental throw would become probable;
these same atoms might have formed
an innumerable multitude of partial combinations;
if one of these combinations had
been incompatible with the harmony and
composition of a world, that world could
not have been formed.
The same considerations may be applied
to animated beings: chance might have
produced men susceptible of life, and the
transmission of it, long before chance gave
them all the faculties which they enjoy;
303and if they had been formed with only
four senses, they could not have acquired a
fifth; for the same reason that we do not
see a new one spring up. Besides, the chance
which might have produced living beings,
must have always preceded the chance
which afforded those beings every thing
necessary for their subsistence and preservation.
It may indeed be supposed, that atoms
assembled in a manner incompatible with the
disposition of the universe, have been separated
by the continuation of the motion
introduced into the immensity of space;
but this continual motion, sufficient to sever
that which it has joined, would it not have
destroyed that harmony which has been the
result of one of the fortuitous chances to
which the formation of the world has been
attributed?
Will some object, that all the parts of
matter, once united in the masses and proportions
which constitute the heavenly bodies,
304have been maintained by the impression
of a predominant force at the same
time invariable? But how is it possible to
reconcile the existence and dominion of such
a force with that continual motion, which
was requisite for the composition of the
universe?
It may be also demonstrated, that the formation
of worlds, by the chances of a blind
motion, and their regular continuity of existence,
are two propositions which disagree.
Let us explain this idea. The play of atoms,
necessary in order to produce the unformed
masses of the heavenly bodies, being infinitely
less complicated than that which is
necessary to produce them, inhabited as they
are with intelligent beings, must have happened
long before the other. Thus, in
the system of the composition of the universe,
by the fortuitous concourse of atoms,
it is necessary to suppose, that these atoms,
after having been united to form the heavenly
bodies, have been severed, and united
305again, as many times as was necessary, to produce
a planet inhabited by intelligent beings.
Since beings thus endowed add nothing to the
stability of the world, since they do not contribute
to the grand coalition of all its parts;
why the same blind motion which has united,
dissolved, and assembled so often every part
of the earth, before it was composed, such
as it is; why does it not produce some alteration
now? It should again reduce to
powder our world, or at least, let us perceive
the commencement of some new
form.
It is not only to a world inhabited by
intelligent beings, that the arguments, just
mentioned, may be applicable; for we
perceive around us an innumerable multitude
of beauties and features of harmony,
which were not necessary to the
preservation of our world, and which,
according to every rule of probability,
would never have existed, unless we
supposed, that the earth has been formed,
dissolved, and reproduced, an infinity of
306times, before having been composed such
as we see it; but then I would ask, why
there are no vestiges of those alterations,
and why that motion has stopped?
It would be possible, however, by the
assistance of a new supposition, to resolve
the difficulty I have just mentioned; some
may say, that the union, and the successive
dispersion of the universal atoms, are executed
in a space of time, so slow and insensible,
that our observations, and all those
which we have from tradition, cannot inform
us whether there will not be a separation
of all the parts of the universe,
by the same causes which have occasioned
their adhesion.
It is obvious, that transporting us into
infinity and admitting such a series of arbitrary
suppositions, they are not indeed exposed
to any rational attacks; but, making
equally free with infinity, in order to oppose
nonsense to nonsense, why may I not
be allowed to suppose, that in the infinite
307combinations arising from perpetual motion,
men have been created, destroyed, and again
called into being, with the same faculties,
remembrances, thoughts, relations, and circumstances;
and why each of us separated
from our former existence, only by a sleep,
whose duration is imperceptible, should
not be in our own eyes immortal beings?
Infinity permits the supposition of this absurd
hypothesis, as it authorises every flight
of the imagination in which time is reckoned
for nothing. We see, however, how
we risk running into error, when with our
limited faculties we wish to subject the incomprehensible
idea of infinity, and boldly
adjust it to the combinations of finite
beings.
Let us produce, however, another objection.
It may be said, that our planet is
the result of chance; but is not this chance
improbable, if we suppose that there existed
in the infinity of space, an infinite
number of other assembled atoms, equally
produced by the first throw of the dice,
308which represent all the possible forms, and
imaginable proportions? And I would also
ask, by what laws, all these irregular bodies,
necessarily subject, by reason of their
number and masses, to an infinity of movements,
have not disconcerted the planetary
system formed, at the same time as they
were, by chance?
I ought to observe, above all, that the
order which we are acquainted with, is a
proof of universal order; for, in immensity,
where one part is nothing compared with
the whole, no part, without exception,
could be preserved, unless it was in equilibrium
with every other.
Thus, whether an infinite succession of
chances be supposed, to which the entire
mass of atoms has been uniformly subject,
or whether the first general throw is
thought sufficient, but divided into an
infinity of different sections, our reason opposes
invincible difficulties to the result
309which some want to draw from these various
systems.
In short, we must observe, that in order
to understand the accidental formation of a
world, such as we are at liberty to suppose,
the eternal existence of every kind of organized
and intelligent atoms, must have
preceded the formation of that world. I
must again observe, that when they are
obliged to such wonderful first principles,
and to admit, in the beginning, a nature
so astonishing, we can scarcely conceive
how they can make it act suddenly a foolish
part, in order to finish the work of the
universe: a more exalted supposition, would
have prevented their drawing a conclusion,
so absurd.
It seems to me, that notwithstanding the
immensity which has given rise to so many
ridiculous notions about the formation of
the world, they have such a resemblance to
each other, that we can scarcely discern any
310difference; and considering the little circle
which the imagination runs over, when it
applies its force to deep conceptions, we
think we discover something supernatural in
its singular weakness: the authors of these
systems seem to have a slavish turn of thinking,
and the marks of their chains are very
visible; it is always atoms, and atoms that
they make play together, either at different
times, or all at once, in infinite space; but
when some want to form ideas of liberty
and will, as they do not know in what manner
to analyze these properties, they suppose
them pre-existing in the elementary parts,
which they made use of to create their universe;
and they prudently take care not to
grant any action to liberty and will, in order
to prevent any resistance to those notions on
which they build their universe.
They would not render either more simple
or credible, the blind production of
worlds, by supposing not only innumerable
multitude of organized atoms, but, even an
311infinite diversity of molds to hold the atoms,
and of which force chemical analogy gives us
an idea. Such a system, which might serve
to explain a few secondary causes of our
known nature, is not applicable to the first
formation of beings; for with such an assemblage
of molds and atoms, all the great difficulties
would still subsist. In fact, how
should the different molds have classed themselves
properly, in order to form the most
simple whole, but which beside required a
fixed measure and gradation of ranks? The
mold destined for the organized atoms, of
which the crystalline is to be composed,
how is it possible it should have placed
itself in the centre of that mold which is to
form the pupil of the eye, and this last on
that one which is to form the whole, and so
on, by an exact gradation, whose divisions
and subdivisions are innumerable?
Were they to suppose an infinite succession
of molds, of which the largest attracted
the smallest, in the same manner as
312the molds attracted the atoms; this supposition,
less ridiculous than any other,
is not sufficient to model, even in imagination,
the most unimportant phœnomena of
nature; it is necessary, besides, that by the
direction of a wise and powerful force, the
molds, and the atoms which belong to
them, set themselves in motion, without
confusion; it is necessary that those destined
to compose the exterior fibres should not
obstruct the passage of those molds calculated
to form the interior organs; in short,
that every one of those in its course and expansion,
should artfully observe those delicate
shades which blend or separate all the
parts of the simplest of nature’s works.
We are already acquainted with a force
which acts in all directions, which disposes
every thing in due order, tends towards an
end, stops, begins again, and finishes, every
moment, a complicated work; and this is
the intelligent will, and certainly we have
reason to be astonished, that the only faculty
313we have an intimate consciousness of, is
the one philosopher’s turn from, when
they investigate the admirable order of the
universe.
I allow, that they may, at the same
time they reject the idea of a God, admit,
as a principle, the eternal existence of
a mechanical force, which, by an incomprehensible
necessity, directed, towards a
wise end, every thing that was at first
confusedly scattered in the immensity of
space; but this new supposition would
form an hypothesis similar to the system
of the eternal existence of the universe; in
fact, the eternal existence of all the elements,
of all substances, forces, and properties
which were necessary to produce a
certain order of things, would be a phœnomenon
as incomprehensible as the existence
of that order itself.
We must add, that these two phœnomena
would be separated in our thoughts
314only by an indivisible instant, an instant that
we can neither describe nor imagine in the
extent of the time represented by eternity;
for any chosen period would be still too
late by an infinity of ages. The necessary
effect of an eternal cause has not, like that
cause, any period to which we can fix its
commencement.
We thus perceive, under another point
of view, how vain and ridiculous are the
fantastic operations, they imagine, before
the existence of the world, and which are
attributed sometimes to the disordered
movements of chance, and sometimes to the
regular laws of blind necessity.
There is then but one hypothesis to be
opposed to the idea of a God: it is the system
of the eternal existence of the universe.
Such an atheistical system will always be
more easily defended than any other, because
that being founded on a supposition without
bounds, it does not require to be embraced
315by reasoning, like all the hypothetical ideas,
by which men make nature act according
to an order of their own invention. We
will, in the next chapter, consider this system,
and discuss it by every means in our
power.
CHAP. XIV. The same Subject continued.
316
Those who maintain that the world
subsists of itself, and that there is not a
God, say, in favour of their opinion, that if
the eternal existence of the universe overwhelms
our understanding, the eternal existence
of a God is a still more inconceivable
idea; and that such a supposition is only
another difficulty, since, according to a common
mode of judging, a work the most wonderful
appears a phœnomenon less astonishing
than the knowledge of which it is the result.
Let us first fix our attention on this argument.
It is useless to ask, what is meant
by another difficulty in infinity; those ideas
which are represented by familiar expressions,
necessarily derived from comparison,
are only admissable in the narrow circle of
our knowledge; out of it, those ideas have
not any application, and we cannot fix any
317degrees in the immensity which exceeds the
bounds of our views, and in those unfathomable
depths which are out of the reach
of our intellectual powers.
Undoubtedly, our mind is equally lost,
both in trying to form a distinct idea of a
God, and in endeavouring to describe the
eternal existence of the world, without any
cause out of itself: however, when we try
to glance our thoughts towards the first
traces of time; when we try to rise almost
to the beginning of beginnings, we feel distinctly
that, far from considering the eternal
existence of an intelligent cause as increasing
the difficulty, we only find repose in that
opinion; and instead of forcing our mind
to adopt such an opinion, and thinking we
wander in an imaginary space, we find it,
on the contrary, more congenial with our
nature; whilst order unites itself to the idea
of a design, and a multiplicity of combinations
to the idea of an intelligence. Thus
we rise from little to great things, and reasoning
by analogy, we shall more easily
318conceive the existence of a Being endowed
with various unlimitted properties, which
we in part partake; we shall, I say, more
easily conceive such an existence, than that
of a universe, where all would be intelligent,
except the first mover. The workman,
undoubtedly, is superior to the work:
but according to our manner of feeling and
judging, an intelligent combination, formed
without intelligence, will always be the
most extraordinary, as well as the most incomprehensible
phœnomenon.
It is not indifferent to observe, that according
to the system I combat, the more
the world would appear to us the admirable
result of wisdom, the less power should we
have to draw any deduction favourable to
the existence of a God, since the author of
a perfect work is not so easily traced as the
feeble re-iterated labours of mediocrity.
Thus, all those who particularized the
beauties of nature, would stupidly injure
the cause of religion, and weaken our belief
in the existence of a Supreme Being.
319It seems to me, that it is easy to perceive
what an ill-founded argument that must
be which leads us to a conclusion so
absurd.
The attentive view of the universe should
make us mistrust the judgment, which we
form, of that which is the most simple in
the order of things; for all the general operations
of nature arise from a movement more
noble and complicated than we can easily
form an idea of. We should surely find,
contrary to a perfect simplicity of means,
that a circuit of two hundred millions of
leagues, which our globe makes every year,
is necessary, in order to produce the successive
changes of seasons, and to assure the
reproduction of the necessary fruits; we
should find, that the distance of thirty-four
millions of leagues, between the sun and
the earth, was necessary to proportion the
rays of light to the delicacy of our organs.
However, if even in the narrow circle we
traverse, we do not discover any constant
application of that simple order, of which
320we form an idea, how could such a principle
serve to guide our opinions, at the moment
when we elevate our meditations to
the first link of the vast chain of beings;
when we undertake to examine, whether,
throughout the immensity of the universe,
there exists, or not, an intelligent cause?
What would become, in that immensity, of
the insignificant phrase, it is one difficulty
more? The buzzing fly would be less ridiculous,
if capable of perceiving the order
and magnificence of a palace, it asserted,
that the architect never existed.
Every thing indicates, that, according to
our different degrees of sense and knowledge,
what is simple, and what is easy,
have a very different application; we may
continually observe, that these expressions
are not interpreted in the same manner, by
a man of moderate abilities and a man of
genius; however, the distance which separates
the various degrees of intelligence with
which we are acquainted, is probably very trifling
in the universal scale of beings. All our
321reflections would lead us then to presume,
that beyond the limits of the human mind,
the simple is compounded, the easy our
wonderful, and the evident our inconceivable.
After having examined the principal arguments
of the partisans of athiestical systems,
which we now attack; let us change
the scene, and in the midst of the labyrinth,
in which we are placed, try to find
a clue for our meditations.
We are witnesses of the existence of the
world, and intimately acquainted with our
own; thus, either God or matter must
have been eternal; and by a natural consequence,
an eternal existence, which is an
idea the most incomprehensible, is, however,
the most incontestible truth. Obliged
now, in order, to fix our opinion, to chuse
between two eternal existences, the one intelligent
and free, the other blind, and void of
all consciousness, why not prefer the first? An
eternal existence is an idea so astonishing, so
322much above our comprehension, that we
decorate it with every thing sublime and
beautiful, and nothing deserves more those
decorations than thought.
Would it not be strange, that in our sysmatic
divisions, it was only to thought,
and consequently to all that was most admirable
in our nature, that we refuse eternity,
whilst we grant it to matter and its
blind combinations? What a subversion of
all proportion! that we should believe in
the eternal existence of matter, because it
is present to our eyes, and yet not admit the
eternal existence of an intelligence; whilst
that which we are endowed with becomes
the source of our judgment, and even the
guide of our senses!
And by what other singularity we should
grant the faculty and the consciousness of
intelligence, only to that small part of the
world which is represented by animated
beings? Thus, the whole of nature would
be below a part; and if no spirit animated
323the universe, man would appear to have
reached his ultimate perfection; though we
see in him but a faint sketch, a weak shadow
of something more complete and admirable;
we perceive that he is, to speak
thus, at the commencement of thinking;
and all his cares, all his efforts, to extend
the empire of that faculty, only inform him,
that he tends continually towards an end,
from which he is always distant; in short,
in his greatest exertions he feels his weakness;
he studies, but he cannot know himself;
he makes a few petty discoveries, sees
some trifling wheels, whilst the main spring
escapes his search: he is fallen into the
world, like a grain of sand thrown by the
winds; he has neither a consciousness of his
origin, nor a foresight of his end; we perceive
in him all the timidity and mistrust
of a dependent being; he is constrained, by
instinct, to raise to heaven his wishes and
contemplations; and, when he is not led
astray by an intoxicating reason, he fears,
seeks to adore a god, and rejects with disdain
324the rank which audacious philosophers
assign him in the order of nature.
I must also add, that the sentiment of
admiration, which I cannot stifle, when I
turn my attention on the spiritual qualities
we are endowed with, would be insensibly
weakened, if I was reduced to consider man
himself as a simple growth of blind matter;
for the most astonishing production would
only inspire me with a transitory emotion,
unless I can refer it to an intelligent cause:
I must discover a design, a combination,
before I admire; as I have need to perceive
feeling and affection, before I love.
But as soon as I see in the human mind
the stamp of Omnipotence; and it appears
to me one of the results of a grand thought;
it reasumes its dignity, and all the faculties
of my soul are prostrate before such a wonderful
conception.
It is then united with the idea of a God,
that the spiritual faculties of man attract
325my homage and captivate my imagination;
in reflecting on these sublime faculties,
studying their admirable essence,
I am confirmed in the opinion that
there exists a sovereign intelligence, soul of
nature, and that nature itself is subject to
its laws: yes, we find in the mind of man
the first evidence, a faint shadow of the
perfection which we must attribute to the
Creator of the Universe. What a wonder
indeed is our thinking faculty, capable of
so many things yet ignorant of its own nature!
I am equally astonished, by the extent
and limits of thinking; an immense
space is open to its researches, and at the
same time it cannot comprehend the secrets
which appear most proximate with it; as
the grand motive of action, the principle of
intellectual force, ever remains concealed.
Man is then informed, every instant, of his
grandeur and dependence; and these thoughts
must naturally lead to the idea of Omnipotence.
There are, in those limits of our
knowledge and ignorance, in that confused
and conditional light, all the evidence of
326design; and it seems to me, sometimes,
that I hear this command given to the
human soul by the God of the universe:
go to admire a portion of my universe,
to search for happiness and to learn to love
me; but do not try to raise the veil, with
which I have covered the secret of thy existence;
I have composed thy nature of
some of the attributes which constitute my
own essence, thou wouldst be too near me, if
I should permit thee to penetrate the mysteries
of it; wait for the moment destined
by my wisdom; till then, thou canst only
reach me by reverence and gratitude.
Not only the wonderful faculty of thinking
connects us with the universal intelligence;
but all those inconceivable properties,
known by the name of liberty, judgment,
will, memory, and foresight; it is,
in short, the august and sublime assemblage
of all our intellectual faculties. Are we,
in fact, after the contemplation of such a
grand phœnomenon, far from conceiving a
God? No, undoubtedly, we have within
327us a feeble image of that infinite power we
seek to discover; man is himself a universe,
governed by a sovereign; and we are much
nearer the Supreme Intelligence, by our nature,
than by any notion of the primitive
properties of matter; properties, from
which some wish to make the system of the
world and its admirable harmony flow.
It seems to me, that our thinking faculty
is too slightly treated in the greater
number of philosophic systems; and some
have been so afraid of honouring it, that
they will not admit it to be a simple
and particular principle, when the subject
of the question is the immortality of the
soul; nor will they consider it as a universal
principle, when they discuss the opinion of
the existence of a God.
It is equally singular, that they wish to
compose of matter a soul endowed with the
most sublime qualities; and they pretend, at
the same time, that the world, in which we
328see intelligent beings, had not for a contriver
and principal any being of the same nature:
this supposition, however, would be as reasonable
as the other is weak; but it seems
to me, that they like better to attribute
order to confusion, than to order itself.
We seek to penetrate the secret of the
existence of the universe; and when we reflect
on the causes of that vast and magnificent
disposition, we can only attribute it
to what seems the most marvellous and analogous
to such a composition, thought, intention,
and will. Why then should we
retrench from the formation of the world
all those sublime properties? Are we to act
sparingly in an hypothesis in which all the
wonders of nature are concentred? It is by
the spiritual faculties with which man is
endowed, that he remains master of the
earth, that he has subdued the ferocious
animals, conquered the elements, and found
a shelter from their impetuosity: it is by
these faculties that man has constructed society,
329given laws to his own passions, and
that he has improved all his means of happiness;
in short, nothing has ever been
done, but by the aid of his mind; and in
his speculations on the formation of the
world, and on the admirable relations of
all the parts of the universe, that which
he wishes not to admit, and will dare to reject
is the intelligent powers and action of
thinking. It seems like men disputing
about the means which has been made use
of to erect a pyramid, who name all the
instruments, except those that they found
at the foot of the edifice.
Habit only turns our attention from the
union of wonders which compose the soul;
and it is thus, unfortunately, that admiration,
lively light of the mind and feelings,
does not afford us any more instruction. We
should be very differently affected, if, for
the first time, we contemplated the meanest
part of this admirable whole! But even
then, in a little time, the strong conviction
of the existence of a God would be worn
330away, and become what it is at present.
But, let me be permitted, in order to render
this truth more striking, to have recourse,
for a moment, to fiction. Let us imagine
men, as immoveable as plants, but endowed
with some one of our senses, enjoying the
faculty of reflection, and enabled to communicate
their thoughts. I hear these animated
trees discourse about the origin of the
world, and the first cause of all things; they
advance, like us, different hypothesis on the
fortuitous movement of atoms, the laws of
fate and blind necessity; and among the different
arguments, employed by some, to
contest the existence of a God, creator
of the universe, that which makes the
greatest impression is, that it is impossible
to conceive how an idea should become
a reality; of how the design of disposing
the parts should influence the execution,
since the will being a simple wish, a thought
without force has not any means to metamorphose
itself into action: but in vain
would these immoveable spectators of the
universe wish to change their situation, to
331raise a shelter against the impetuosity of the
winds, or the scorching heat of the sun;
yet then it would be evidently absurd to
imagine the existence of a faculty essentially
contrary to the immutable nature of things.
Let however, in the midst of this conversation,
a supernatural power appear,
and say to them, what would you think
then, if this wonder, whose existence you
regard as impossible, should be executed
before your eyes; and if the faculty of
acting, according to your own will, was
to be suddenly given you? Seized with
astonishment, they would prostrate themselves
with fear and respect; and from
that instant, without the slightest doubt,
would believe they had discovered the secret
of the system of the world; and they
would adore the infinite power of intelligence,
and it is to a like cause we should
attribute the disposition of the universe.
However, the same phœnomenon which
would appear above belief, and out of the
limits of possibility, to those who have
332never been a witness of it, that wonder exists
in our world; we see it, we experience
it every instant; though the force of habit
weakens the impression and eradicates our
admiration.
The hypothesis I have just mentioned,
might even be applied to the sudden acquisition
of all the means proper to communicate
ideas; and to the prompt discoveries
of the other properties of our mind; but
several of these properties constitute, in such
an essential manner, the essence of the soul,
that we cannot, even in imagination, separate
them, any more than we can detach action
from will, and will from thought. There
are some spiritual faculties, and those the
most wonderful, which we cannot define,
and which we should not have even supposed
to exist had we not possessed them;
and if it had been possible to have known
them before we were endowed with them,
the inventors of systems would have pointed
out this astonishing means, as the only one
333applicable to the composition of the admirable
harmony of the universe.
We shall be led to the same reflections,
when ceasing to expatiate on the
greatest wonders of our nature, we bound
ourselves to consider the human mind at
the moment when its action may be perceived.
To render this observation clearer,
let us follow a man of genius in the
course of his labours, and we shall see him
at once embrace a multitude of ideas, compare
them, notwithstanding their distance,
and form from such a mixture a distinct result
proper to direct his public or private
conduct; let us consider him extending and
multiplying these first combinations, and
connecting them, by an invisible web, to
some scattered points which his imagination
has fixed in the vast regions of futurity;
with the assistance of these magic succours
we see him approaching the time which
does not yet exist; but we see him, in his
career, aided by accumulated knowledge,
more subtle than the rays of the sun
334and yet separated, with an admirable order;
more fleet and dispersed than the light vapours
of the morning, and still subject to
the will of that inconceivable power,
which, under the name of memory, heaps
up the acquisitions of the mind, in order to
assist it afterwards in its new acquirements:
but let us examine still further this man of
genius, when he deposits, by means of writing,
his different reflections; and let us ask,
how he knows quickly, that an idea is new,
and that a style has an original turn? Let
us again enquire, how, in order to form
such a judgment, he makes with celerity a
recapitulation of the thoughts and images
employed by others, to illustrate the subjects
they have treated, whilst years and ages
were rolling away; in short, let every one,
according to his strength, try to penetrate
into these mysterious beauties of the human
understanding; and let him enquire afterwards
about the impression which he receives
from a like meditation. There is,
perhaps, as great a difference, if I may be
allowed to say so, between the most perfect
335vegetable and the human mind, as between
it and the Deity: to extend this idea, we
have only to suppose, that in the immensity
which surrounds us, there exists a gradation
equal to that we have perceived in the little
space we are permitted to inspect.
The author of a celebrated work accuses
men of presumption, because, when they
endeavour to trace the first principle of
things, by comparing their own faculties
with it, they seem to think that they approach
it. But, what other part should we
be able to take, when we are called to reason
and to judge? It is not sufficient that the
idea of the Supreme Being may be metaphysical;
it is necessary further, some will argue,
that we even try to render it abstract,
by removing it out of our imagination, and
that we seek for, in our judgment and opinions,
a support which may be in a manner
absent from ourselves, and absolutely foreign
to our nature. All this cannot be understood:
we confess that we have not sufficient
336strength to know the essence and perfection
of God, but giving way to abstraction,
we extinguish our natural light, and
deprive ourselves of the few means we have
to obtain this knowledge; we can only be
acquainted with unknown things by the
help of those we know: we shall be led
astray, if we are obliged to take another road;
and modern philosophers often seek to attack
intimate sentiments by arbitrary ideas,
of which an imagination the most capricious
is the only foundation.
It will then always be surprizing, that
in our contemplations and habits of thinking,
the wisdom of the design, the harmony
of the whole, and the perfection of parts,
are manifest traces of intelligence; and yet
that we should renounce, suddenly, this
manner of feeling and judging, in order
to attribute the formation of the universe to
the effect of chance, or the eternal laws of
blind necessity; and is it possible, that we
can deduce the same consequences from an
admirable order, as from wild confusion?
337Facts so different, principles so contrary,
should not lead to the same conclusion; the
magnificent system of the universe ought to
have some weight, when we conjecture
about its origin; and it would be difficult
to persuade us, that in investigating the
most exalted truths, we ought to consider
all the knowledge we acquire by the view
of nature as merely indifferent. Men are
carried very far, when they reject the arguments
drawn from final causes; it is not
only a single thought they would destroy,
it is the source of all our knowledge they
would dry up.
Men insensibly cease to perceive a connexion
between the existence of a God, and
the different miracles with which we are
surrounded; but all would be changed, if
God exhibited the numerous acts of his
power successively, instead of displaying
them all at once; our imagination, animated
by such a movement, would rise to
the idea of a Supreme Being; it is then,
because an accumulation of wonders aggrandizes
338the universe; it is because a harmony,
not to be equalled, seems to convert
an infinity of parts into an admirable whole;
and that profound wisdom maintains it in an
immutable equilibrium; it is, in short, because
insensible gradations and delicate shades
render still more perfect the wonders of nature,
that men are less struck with astonishment,
or lost in adoration.
We want, say you, new phœnomena to
determine our persuasion: do you forget,
that all which is offered to our view already
surpasses our understanding? If the
least miracle was to be effected before you,
you would be ready to bend your proud
reason; but because the most grand and
wonderful, which the imagination itself can
form an idea of, has preceded your existence,
you receive no impression from it,
all appears simple to you, all necessary.
But, the reality of the wonders of the universe
has nothing to do with the instant
you are allowed to contemplate them:
your pilgrimage on earth, is it not a period
339imperceptible in the midst of eternity?
admiration, surprise, and all the affections
of which man is susceptible, do not change
the nature of the phœnomena which surround
him; and his intelligence reflects but
a very small part of the wonders of the
universe.
We have no need of a revolution
in the order of nature, to discover the
power of its author; the fibres of a blade
of grass confound our intelligence, and
when we have grown old in study and observation,
we continually discover new objects,
which we have not investigated, and
perceive new relations; we are ever in the
midst of unknown things and incomprehensible
secrets.
However, supposing, for a moment, the
existence of extraordinary miracles which
we should be impressed with; it is easy to
conceive, that these miracles would not have
on men the influence we presume; for if
they were frequent, and if they happened
340only at regular periods, their first impression,
would slowly be weakened, and, at
last, men would range them in the class of
the successive movements of eternal matter.
But if, on the contrary, there was a long
interval between these miracles, the generations
who succeeded the actual witnesses
of them would accuse their ancestors of
credulity, or contest the truth of those traditions,
which transmitted the account of
a revolution contrary to the common course
of nature.
Some may still say, that, in order to render
manifest the existence of the Supreme
Being, it would be necessary that men were
punctually answered, when they address their
prayers; but the influence of our wishes
upon events, if this influence was habitual
and general, would it be sufficient to change
the opinion of those who see, with indifference,
that innumerable multitude of actions
which are so miraculously subject to our will?
Would they not still find some reason for
considering such an increase of power, as
341the necessary result of the eternal system of
the universe? Thus, whatever might be
the measure of intelligence, added to that
we now enjoy, in short, though a number of
new wonders were accumulated, men could
still oppose to that union of miracles the
same objections, and the same doubts they
do not now fear to raise against the wonders
we are daily witnesses of. It is difficult, it
is impossible, to make a constant or profound
impression on men who are only susceptible
of astonishment in the short transition
from the known to the unknown;
they have but a moment to feel this emotion,
and it is from the slowness of their
comprehension, or the continual succession of
the phœnomena submitted to their inspection,
that the duration of their admiration
depends. And, perhaps, our faculties and
powers would excite more surprise, if,
in order to subject our movements to our
will, it were necessary to give our orders, and
to pronounce them with a loud voice, as a
captain does to his soldiers; however, such
342a constitution would be a degree less wonderful
than that we possess.
I will anticipate another objection; we
advance gradually, some will say, in discovering
the secrets of nature; the power of attraction,
that grand physical faculty, has only
been known about a century, and observations
on the effects of electricity are still
more recent; every age, every year, adds
to the treasure of our knowledge, and the
time will arrive, perhaps, when, without
having recourse to any mysterious opinions,
we shall have explained all the phœnomena
which still astonish us.
It is not at first conceivable, how our
past discoveries, and all those which may in
future enrich the human mind, would ever
free us from the necessity of placing a first
cause at the termination of our reflections;
for, the more we perceive of new links in
the vast disposition of the universe, the more
we extend the magnificence of the work,
and the power of the Creator. A series of
343successful exertions may reveal, perhaps, the
secret of some physical properties, superior in
force to those we have experienced: but, even
then, all the movements of nature would be
subordinate to a few general laws; and
when we should distinguish these laws, the
result of our researches would demonstrate
simply the existence of a greater unity in
the system of the world; and this character
of perfection would be impressed, if it was
possible, still more on us; for, in a work,
such as the universe, it is the simple and regular
relations which announce, above all,
the wisdom and power of the Disposer;
because our admiration could never be excited
by an assemblage of incoherent ideas,
whose chain would every instant be broken.
But, I know not by what habit or blindness it
is, that when men have discovered a principle
uniform in its action, and have given to that
principle a denomination, they believe that
their astonishment ought to cease: in fact,
attraction and electricity are not so much
now subjects of surprise, as a means to free
us from the admiration due to the magnificent
344result of those singular properties; in
short, we are habituated to consider, with
indifference, every general effect, of which
we acquire a conception, as if even this
conception was not one of the most noble
of the phœnomena of nature. Some will say,
that men, by degrees, becoming familiarized
with their own minds, despise all they can
easily understand; their competitions are
then the only origin of their vanity; for
when they examine themselves individually,
or when they judge of men in general, they
have such a mean opinion of themselves, that
they do not highly value their discoveries.
We ought to place, amongst the number
of ideas the most extensive and general,
that of Buffon on the formation of the
earth; but this idea, supposing it as just as
it is beautiful, only explains to us one of the
gradations of this superb work. I see the
earth formed by an emanation of the sun;
I see it animated and become fertile, when
it has received, by slow degree, its temperature;
and I see, beside, issue out of its lap
345all the beauties of nature; and that which
surprises me still more, all the beings endowed
with instinct or intelligence; but if
the elements of these incomprehensible productions
had been prepared or simply disposed
in the fiery body which animates our
system, I transfer to it my astonishment,
and equally have to seek for the author of
so many wonders.
I must now fix my attention, for a few
moments, on the most metaphysical part
of this work. We can, perhaps, form an
idea of a world existing without a beginning,
and by the laws of blind necessity,
provided that world was immoveable and invariable
in all its parts; but how apply the
idea of eternity to a continual succession;
as such a nature is necessarily composed of
a beginning and end, we cannot otherwise
define the idea of succession; thus, we are
constrained to elevate ourselves to a first
Being existing by himself, when we have
before our eyes a constant revolution of
causes and effects, of destruction and life.
346It is impossible to have any idea of motion
without that of a beginning.
The difficulty would not be removed, by
saying, that the whole of the universe is
immutable, and the parts only subject to
change; for a whole of this kind, without
any relation whatever, either real or
imaginary, a like whole has only an ideal
circumscription, which, in fact, is not susceptible
of an alteration; but such a circumscription
only presents us an assemblage
of positive things contained in its circle;
and it is not in studying those, nor in examining
the different parts of the unknown
whole, which we call the universe, that we
are allowed to draw consequences, or to
form a judgment. Thus, seeing only a
succession, we rationally feel the necessity
of a first cause.
But, some will say, you are entangled in
the same difficulty, when you suppose the
eternity of a God; for a series of designs
in an intelligent being should lead to the
347idea of a commencement, as well as the successions
of the physical world.
This proposition, undoubtedly, is not
easily cleared up, like all those whose solution
appears to be united to the knowledge
of infinity. We cannot, however, hinder
ourselves from perceiving, that the physical
generations lead us, in a manner simple and
manifest, to the necessity of a first principle;
and we ought to search for this principle
out of ourselves, since our nature does not
furnish any idea of it; whereas, the successive
combinations of the mind may relate to
an origin, of which we have not any conception,
and which seems united, in some
manner, to these same combinations. In
fact, we can easily form a distinct idea of a
faculty of thought, antecedent to the action
of thinking, and which might even be separated
by such intervals as the imagination
could conceive. It is the same with liberty,
that intellectual power of which we have
the consciousness, at the same time that it
remains absolutely idle.
348I shall add, that, even in the narrow circle
of our thoughts, it is true, the operations
of the mind appear to us often dependant
on each other; yet, sometimes their
chain is so broken, that our ideas seem really
to issue out of nothing; instead of which,
in every other production, we know, there
is always a visible tie between that which
is, and that which was. We must not
forget, that at the very time our ideas appear
to us connected, that succession is to
be attributed to our weakness and ignorance,
rather than to the mind, considered in a
general manner. Circumscribed in all our
means, we are obliged to go continually
from the known to the unknown, from
probability to certainty, from experience of
the past, to conjectures about the future;
but this gradation, this course, ought to be
absolutely foreign to an intelligence without
bounds, which knows and which sees all at
the same time; and perhaps we are in the
way of this truth, when we perceive,
amongst us, the claim of true genius, and
the turbulent whirlpool of folly.
349In short, it is not men persuaded of the
existence of a God, that we need require to
transport themselves beyond, if I may say
so, the domain of thought, in order to
search for proofs of their opinion; atheists
alone want such an effort, since they alone
resist the influence of the simplest sentiments
and most natural arguments; since they alone
bid us mistrust that distinct connexion
which we perceive between the Supreme
Intelligence and the perfection of order; that
train of causes and effects, between the idea
of a God and all the propensities of the
soul; it is these considerations, intelligible
to all, which give new force to our opinions.
Directed by these reflections, and wishing
to investigate in a useful manner the subject
I have undertaken, I shall not engage in
the arguments which turn on the creation
of the world. It is sufficient for me to
have perceived, that the idea of the creation
of the universe is not more inconceivable
than the idea of its eternity; I am not indeed
350obliged, with those who adopt the
last system, to suppose something growing
out of nothing; but substituting the idea
of an eternal existence, instead of that of
nothing, is a thought which equally terrifies
my imagination; for my mind knows
not where to place that eternity and in order
to comprehend it still surrounds it with
a vacuum. In the system of a created universe,
I see something coming out of nothing,
by the will of a Being whom I can
form an idea of; but in the system of the
eternity of matter, my faculties are absorbed
in endeavouring to embrace it; in short,
both of these modes of existence appear to
me in the midst of a vague infinity, which
no human power can conceive; and if
sometimes the eternal existence of the universe
seems less incomprehensible than its
creation, it is only because such an idea
eludes examination and precludes reasoning.
The idea of a Creator is undoubtedly
equally above our comprehension, but we
351are led to it by all our feelings and
thoughts; and if we are stopped in the efforts
which we make to reach the cause we
seek, it is by obstacles which we can even
attribute to the will of that power we are
searching to discover; instead of that, contemplating
the uniform and insipid rotation
of an eternal existence, we are almost driven
to despair, that is to say, we feel the impossibility
of conceiving the nature of things,
and the certainty, nevertheless, that there
exists not any veil designedly placed between
that nature and our understandings.
I must still make some further observations;
we see a resemblance of creation in
the continual reproduction of all the bounties
of the earth; and our moral system
offers a still more striking one, in the formation
of ideas which did not exist antecedently.
Our feelings appear another proof
of the same truth; for they have not any
evident connexion with the cause that we
assign them: thus, without habit we might
352see as great a difference between certain exterior
emotions and the various affections of
our souls, as we can conceive between the
existence of the world and the idea of a
Creator.
We perceive also, that the universe has
all the characters of a production; characters
which consist in the union of a
multitude of parts, whose relations are
fixed by a single thought. In short, even
the succession of time announces intelligence;
for we know not how to place
that succession in the midst of an eternal
existence. We cannot conceive any different
periods in an extent in which there is
not a beginning; for before we arrive at
any of these periods, there must have been
always an infinite space; besides, there
being no beginning, considered abstractedly,
annihilates the idea of intervals,
since they could not have two fixed points:
thus, the introduction of the past, the
present, and the future, into the midst
353of eternity, seems due to an intelligent
power, who has modelled this immense
uniformity, and governs the nature of
things.
I ought not to dwell long on these reflections;
to give a basis to religious opinions,
it is not necessary to conceive of
creation in its metaphysical essence; it
is sufficient, to believe the existence of a
Supreme Being, creator and preserver of
nature, the model of wisdom and goodness,
the protector of rational beings, whose
providence governs the world. We lose
all our strength when extending too far
our meditations, we aspire to know and
explain the secrets of infinity; we then
only exhibit to the adversaries of religion
the faint stretch of our opinions,
and the last struggles of a reason weakened
by its own efforts; it is much better
to use those arguments which sense
and feeling are able to defend. We
should candidly confess, that our noblest
faculties have immutable limits; one degree
354more would perhaps diffuse a sudden light
on the questions, whose examination disconcerts
us. There is not perhaps any
mind accustomed to meditation, which has
not had several times pre-sentiments of this
truth; for the first glimmering of a new
perception seems to out-run thinking, and
such is its proximity that we imagine one step
more would enable us to catch it; but our
hope is dissipated, we cannot grasp the
fleeting shadow, and fall back again into
the sad conviction of our impotence. Alas!
in that infinite space which our intellectual
powers try to run over, there are only immense
deserts, where the mind cannot find
repose, or the thoughts meet any asylum;
these are the regions whose entrance seems
to have been desolated, in order that the
most unbounded imagination might not obtain
any knowledge of them; but will you
dare to say, that there stops all intelligence,
there finishes the mysteries of nature?
would you expect to possess the secrets
of time in attributing an eternal existence
to all we know? Certainly, we are too insignificant
355to promulge such decrees, we
enjoy too small a portion of eternity to determine
what belongs to it.
The most probable thought is, that our
reason is insufficient to reach the explanations
we wish to unfold; the chain of beings
above us every instant reminds us of
this truth; and it appears singular, that
perceiving so distinctly the bounds of our
senses, we should not be induced to think,
that our intelligence, apparently so extended,
may nevertheless run over a very circumscribed
space. Our imagination goes much
farther than our knowledge, but its domain
is perhaps only a point in what is yet unexplored;
and it is necessary to penetrate
those unknown regions, to discover the
truths which illustrate the mysteries that
surround us; but there is a Being who
knows them, Omniscience is at the summit
of those gradations of intelligence which
we trace. We know nothing, we do not
discover any result but through the assistance
of experience and observation; and we
356only know the world by the little front
scene which meets our view: is it rational
to suppose, that only this kind of knowledge
exists in the universe? Men, in the
slow progress of their judgment, resemble
children; but even this condition recals the
idea of a father and a tutor. Every thing
however shows us, that the phœnomena of
nature relate to a grand whole; we see that
its dispersed productions are united to some
general cause; it is the same with human
knowledge; more admirable than the rays
of light spread through immensity, it is
an emanation from the most perfect light.
In short, if space, if time itself, those two
existences without bounds, are subject to
division, why should we not be induced to
think, that the degrees of knowledge we
experience and conceive, are also only a part
of a universal intelligence?
Of all the objections against the idea of
a God, the weakest, in my opinion, is that
drawn from the mixture of troubles and
pleasures to which human life is exposed.
357A God, some will say, ought to unite every
perfection, and we cannot believe in his existence,
when we perceive limits in his
power or goodness.
This is a flimsy argument; for, if men
do not admit as a proof of the existence of
a God, all that we discover of wisdom, harmony,
and intelligence in the universe, what
right have they to use an apparent contrast
between sovereign power and goodness, in
order to attribute the formation of the world
to chance. Would it be just, that the defects
of a work should be brought as a proof
against the existence of a workman, whilst
the beauty of the same work was not allowed
to support a contrary opinion? We
should reason in a different manner; disorder
and imperfection merely point out to us
a negation of certain qualities; we must, in
general terms, throw an odium on the
whole, in order to banish the idea of an intelligent
hand; whereas, to strengthen the
other opinion, it is sufficient that particular
parts announce art and genius. Thus,
358when we enter a palace, if we find there
distinct marks of talents, we attribute its
erection to an architect, even though in a
part of the edifice we should not distinguish
any traces of invention.
I have already had occasion to show how
we are led to these incomprehensible extremes,
when we endeavour exactly to proportion
the wisdom and power of an Infinite
Being, and I shall not again dwell on
this argument: or repeat that from any
imaginable hypothesis, we might draw this
deduction, that Omnipotence could have
produced more happiness.
There are ideas which appear contrary
to reason, only because we cannot perceive
them in one point of view; and we discover
this truth, not only in considering things
which are foreign to our nature, but when
we turn our attention on the events which
come daily under our inspection. Why do
we then suppose, that we can comprehend the
most grand and noble thoughts? Is it consistent
359with the idea of an Infinite Power that
we refuse to credit the existence of infinite
goodness? Is it consistent with the idea of Infinite
Wisdom that we will not admit the existence
of Omnipotence? Nay more, is it consistent
with the idea of infinite chances that
we imagine the absurd systems concerning
the formation of the world? We use infinity
for every thing, except to place above us an
intelligence, whose properties and essence
our reason cannot determine.
We are lost in a boundless uncertainty,
when we try to go beyond the limits of human
powers. Thus, after having collected
all the forces of our souls, to enable us to
penetrate the existence of a God, we ought
not to exhaust ourselves in subtleties, vainly
endeavouring to conceive in a just acceptation,
and under evident relations, various
attributes of an Infinite Being, who has
chosen to make himself known to us in a
certain measure, and under certain forms;
and it is too much to require of the worshippers
of God, to defend themselves
360against those who contest his existence, and
dispute about the nature of his perfections.
I am far from supposing any obstacle to the
execution of his will; but I should be full
of the same religious sentiments, if I knew
that there existed order and laws in the nature
of things, which the Divine Power
has a faculty of modifying, and that it cannot
entirely destroy. I should not less adore
the Supreme Being, if, at the same time,
his various attributes were in constant
union, it was nevertheless, by degrees, that
he produced happiness; I should silently
respect the secrets which would escape my
penetration, and wait with respectful submission,
till the clouds were dissipated
which still surrounded me. What then!
always in ignorance and obscurity? Yes, always:
such is the condition of men, when
they wish to go beyond the limits traced by
the immutable laws of nature; but the
grand truths which we can easily perceive
are sufficient to regulate our conduct, and
afford us comfort. That there is a God,
every thing indicates and loudly announces;
361but I cannot discover either the mysteries of
his essence, or the intimate connection of his
various perfections. I plainly see in a crowd
the monarch encircled by his guards; I
know his laws, I enjoy the order he has
prescribed; but I assist not at his councils,
and am a stranger to his deliberations. I
even perceive, that an impenetrable veil separates
me from the designs of the Supreme
Being, and I do not undertake to trace
them; I commit myself with confidence to
the protection of that Being whom I believe
good and great, as I would rely on the
guidance of a friend during a dark night;
and whilst I have my foot in the abyss,
I will depend on Him to snatch me from
the danger and calm my terrors.
If we might be allowed the comparison, we
should say, that God is like the sun, which we
cannot stedfastly gaze at; but throwing our
eyes down, we perceive its rays and the beauties
it spreads around. However, men who,
either through a mistrust of their understanding,
or the nature of it, have only by
their reverence an intercourse with God, feel
362most forcibly the impression of his grandeur;
as it is at the extremity of the lever that we
strongly experience its power.
We consider the general assent of nations
and ages, in the opinion of the existence of
a God, as a remarkable presumption in favour
of that opinion; but such a proof
would lose part of its force, if we, in time,
regarded as a kind of moral phœnomenon,
the relation which all men may have with
an idea so sublime, notwithstanding the visible
disparity which exists between their
different degrees of understanding and knowledge;
and this observation should lead to a
thought, that in the midst of the clouds,
which obscure the idea of a God, sensibility
becomes our best guide: it seems the most
innate part of ourselves, and in this respect
to communicate, in the most intimate manner,
with the Author of our Nature.
The sight advances before our other
senses, the imagination goes beyond it; but
as it is obliged to trace its own path, sensibility,
363which bounds over all, goes still
further.
The reasoner, in his efforts to attain to
profound metaphysical truths, forms a chain
whose links rather follow each other, than
are joined: the mind of man not being sufficiently
subtle, and extended, cannot always
unite exactly that infinite multitude of ideas
which crowd at the determination of our
meditations; sensibility is then the best calculated
to conceive the sublime truth, which
not being composed of parts, is not susceptible
of section, and can only be comprehended
in its unity. Thus, whilst the
mind often wanders in vain speculations,
and loses itself in metaphysical labyrinths,
the idea of a Supreme Being is impressed,
without effort, in a simple heart, which is
still under the influence of nature: thus,
the man of feeling, as well as the intelligent
man, announces a Supreme Being, whom
we cannot discover without loving; and
this union of all the faculties of the soul
towards the same idea, this emotion, which
364resembles a kind of instinct, ought to be
connected with a first cause; as there is for
every thing a first model.
It is, perhaps, also the confused sentiment
of that first model, which leads us to religion,
when we see a virtuous man. Men,
with their fatal systems, would alter and annihilate
every thing, but the comfortable
hopes and thoughts which arise from a profound
and rational admiration, will still
resist that destruction. They vainly wish
to make us consider such a sentiment as the
simple play of blind matter, whilst all within
us seems to invite us to search for a more
noble origin. And how can we avoid seeing,
in these great qualities of men, nobleness of
soul, elevation of genius, expansion of heart,
love of order, and interesting goodness; how
avoid seeing, in this rich picture, the reflection
of a celestial light, and concluding from
it, that there is somewhere a first intelligence.
Do rays exist without a centre of
light? I know not, but hurried away by
these reflections, I sometimes think, innate
365goodness, which we admire as the first rank
in the scale of intelligent beings, in a more
immediate manner, leads to the knowledge
of the Author of nature; and when this
innate morality is found united in some
persons with a presentiment of the Divine
Nature, there is, in this agreement, a charm
which impresses us; a kind of unknown character
which attracts our respect: as every
tender and sublime thought is roused by
the idea which we form of the souls of
Socrates and Fenelon.
At the same time, actuated by similar
sentiments we experience a painful emotion,
when we are informed, that there exist
men, enemies to all these ideas; men, who
had rather debase themselves and humanity,
by attributing their origin to chance,
than resolve to consider the spiritual faculties
which they enjoy as a faint sketch of
the sovereign intelligence. Thus, instead
of employing their minds to lend some force
to these comfortable truths, or, at least probabilities
366so dear, they, on the contrary,
dispute their realty, and seek to embarrass
by sophistry, the doctrines which
tend to fortify the first dispositions of
our nature: we see the materialists, rather
then elevate themselves, drag us with
them from happiness and hope; they only
grant eternity to the dust, out of which,
they say, we sprung. What honour, however,
can they derive from those more enlightened
views which they boast of, if they are only
the result of a growth similar to that of
plants; and if our spiritual faculties, so far
from being lost, in some measure, in the infinite
intelligence, so far from being united to
a grand destiny, are only associated to this
frail structure, which is every day, every
hour, exposed to various dangers. What
credit should we derive from these faculties,
if they only enabled us to describe, with
precision, the almost imperceptible circle of
time, in which we live and die: if they only
served to raise us above our equals during
that short moment of life, which is hastening
to lose itself in endless ages, as a light
367vapour in the immensity of air? How can
you speak with delight of fame and promotion,
when you voluntarily renounce the
grandeur arising from the most noble origin?
You are proud of the celebrity of your country,
the renown of your families, and the
only glory you desire not partake, is that
which ennobles the whole human race!
In short, I would ask, by what strange
error of the imagination it is, that in meditating
on the existence of a God, men do
not go further than to doubt it; since to
support, to guide our judgment, we have
only an understanding whose weakness we
continually experience; since it is capable
of gradual improvement, as knowledge
is perpetually accumulating? There exists
not any proportion between the measure of
our knowledge and the unbounded extent
which is displayed before us; there is not
any between the union of all our powers
and the profound mysteries of nature: how
then shall we dare to say, that men are
368arrived at the pinnacle of knowledge, and
that in the endless ages to come, there
will never break forth a more penetrating
faculty than our weak reason?
However, were men even to lose the
hope of advancing one step in metaphysical
researches; and persisted to declare insufficient
and imperfect the various proofs of
the existence of a God; it is not to be contested,
that all other systems are surrounded
with still greater obscurity, and they would
only have a doubt as the result of their reasoning.
But have they ever reflected on the
influence a simple doubt has, when that
doubt is applied to an idea, whose relations
are without bounds? Let us try to represent
an equal probability in a circumstance
which only concerns the interests of
this transitory life, and we shall soon see what
force the same degree of probability would
have in the immensurable relations of the
finite to the infinite. Thus, not only an
uncertainty, but the slightest presumption
of the existence of a God, would, in the
369estimation of sound reason, be a sufficient
foundation for religion and morality. Yes, we
might thus humbly pray, though depressed
by doubt:—O Thou God who art unknown!
sovereign goodness whose image is
stamped on our hearts—if Thou existest, if
Thou art Lord of this magnificent universe,
deign to accept our love and humble
homage.——
Undoubtedly, these thoughts are sufficient
to inspire with respect and fear beings
ignorant of their origin, who have so little
to sacrifice and so much to desire, who, on
account of their extreme weakness, cannot
relinquish some hopes, and must attach
themselves to a fixed and predominate idea,
which may serve as an anchor in the midst
of the inconsistencies and agitations of their
minds.
It is, perhaps, because the time when
every thing will be explained, is still far
distant, that many exaggerate their doubts,
and often confound them with a decided
370incredulity. I form to my imagination, a
solemn period, when the inhabitants of the
earth will be instructed in the mysteries of
their nature and the secrets of futurity; and
that some signal phœnomenon will mark
the awful day proper to fix our attention;
and I am intimately persuaded, that, in such
a moment, the men most indifferent about
religion will appear dismayed, and even recognize
that what they took for conviction,
was but a wavering opinion, only supported
by self-love and a desire of distinction.
At the same time that I form this judgment
of the pretended incredulity of several persons,
I will venture a reflection of a different
kind: it is, that superficial faith in
the existence of God, and the opinions
which depend on it, is not equivalent in
effect to doubt retained in proper bounds;
and perhaps, if these bounds were determined,
the belief of one class of society
would be less wavering.
371I anticipate another objection; those
doubts, some may say, those doubts which
so many men cannot smother, are they not
an argument against the existence of a
God? for a Powerful Being, such as we
suppose Him, could have inspired a general
confidence in that noble truth; He needed
not to have recourse to supernatural means;
His will was sufficient. I confess, that we
can easily add, in imagination, several degrees
to our knowledge and happiness; but
that condition of our nature, of which the
cause is unknown, can never be contrary
to the idea of the existence of a God:
all is limited in our physical properties
and in our moral faculties; but within
these confines we see the work of a Supreme
Intelligence, and we discover every
instant the traces of a divine hand, sufficiently
obvious to direct our opinions. Unstable
reasoning, concerning what we should
be, can never weaken the distinct consequences
which arise from what we are.
372When the Laplander, in his cave, hears
by chance the distant echo of thunder, he
says, that God still lives on the high mountain;
and, is it in the very bosom of munificent
blessings, with the light of philosophy,
that men would wish to reject the
idea of the existence of a Supreme Being?
What an abuse of reason! Infinity ought
to overwhelm the most vigorous and
enlightened understanding, make the wise
man timid in his judgment, and inform
him what he is; can man do better
than give way to the admiration the
view of so many incomprehensible wonders
must necessarily inspire, and with fervour
seize that chain of miracles which
seem to promise to lead to the knowledge
of the Creator of them? Can he be more
nobly employed, than in tracing an opinion,
not only the most probable, but the most
grand and interesting? Alas! if we should
ever lose it—the idea is not to be endured;
clouds and thick darkness would, overwhelm
the feelings which seem to dart before
our reason, to explore the unknown
373country we pant after, and a melancholy
and eternal silence would appear to surround
all nature: we should call for a comforter,
implore protection—but where is it to be
found? We should search for hope, but it
is for ever fled—Alas! this is not all, a
terrific thought strikes me, I hesitate a moment
to communicate it; yet, it seems to
me, that we lend new force to religious
opinions, when we demonstrate, by various
ways, that the principles which destroy
those opinions lead to a result contrary to
our nature. I will then conclude this chapter
by a reflection of serious importance.
If there is not a God, if this world and
the whole universe was only the production
of chance or nature itself, subsisting from
all eternity; and if this nature, void of consciousness,
had not any guide or superior;
in short, if all its movements were the necessary
effect of a property ever concealed in
its essence, a terrible thought would alarm
our imagination: we should not only renounce
the hopes which enliven life, we
374should not only see continually advancing
towards us the image of death and annihilation,
these dreadful anticipations would
not be all—an uncertain cause of fear would
trouble the mind. In fact, the revolutions
of a blind nature being more obscure than
the designs of an Intelligent Being, it would
be impossible to discover on what base, in
the universe, reposed the destiny of men;
impossible to foresee whether, by some one
of the laws of that imperious nature, intelligent
beings are devoted to perish irrevocably,
or revive under some other form; if
they are to stumble on new pleasures, or
suffer eternally: life and death, happiness
and misery, may belong indifferently to a
nature whose movements are not directed by
any intelligence, are not connected by any
moral idea, but solely dependent on a blind
property, which is represented by that
word, terrible and inexplicable necessity.
A like nature would resemble the rocks to
which Prometheus was bound, that were
equally insensible to the agonizing groans of
375the wretch, and to the joy of the vultures
who preyed on his vitals.
Thus, in a like system, nothing would
be able to fix our opinion with respect to
futurity, and guard the sensible part of ourselves
from yielding to some unknown force:
in short, can we reply without trembling?
nothing,—and of course eternal torments
might accidentally become our portion.
The momentary experience of life might,
perhaps, inspire us with a kind of tranquillity;
but what is that in immensity, but
calculations founded on the observance of a
short interval? What is that hope which
only a fleeting moment gives weight to? It
is as if the fluttering insect, which lives but a
day, should consider it as a representation of
the eternal condition of the universe. The
mixture of pains and pleasures, to which
men are subject on earth, is not a certain
proof of what may happen in other times
and places; for unity, equality, and analogy,
all those sources of probability, and
376principles to judge from, are connected
with general ideas of order and harmony,
but those ideas are not applicable to a nature
subject to necessity.
We have some difficulty to assure ourselves
of the designs of a Supreme Being:
however, by a kind of analogy we shall be
able to form an idea of the divine will; and
our minds, our feelings, and virtues, all aid us
in the search; but were we sprung from an
insensible nature, we should not have any connection
with the different parts of its immense
extent, and the attentive study of
our moral constitution would not throw a
light on the various revolutions of which
the material world is susceptible. We
should only discover, that there would be
much less reason to oppose, in imagination,
limits to the varied movements of a nature
without a guide, than to circumscribe, in
some manner, the actions of an Omnipotent
Being, whose other attributes are also
infinite; for the ideas of order, justice, and
goodness, which arise from a knowledge of
377His perfections, seem to trace a circle in
the midst of infinity, which the mind of
man may perceive. Yes, these ideas subject
a great space to our contemplations;
but what advantage is there in trying to be
acquainted with the mysteries of an insensible
nature, or to penetrate the secret of
the motion impressed by blind necessity?
Let me repeat it then, as a termination
to these reflections; all would be obscure,
all mere chance in the fate of man, if we
did not attribute the disposition and preservation
of the world to the omnipotent will
of an Intelligent Being, whose perfections
our feelings and thoughts faintly represent.
In short, when even in the system of
the eternity of nature, men were assured
that death destroys individuality, and were
they even able to drive away the idea of
the continuation or renewal of it, by any
sentiment or remembrance; would it be
evident, that we should be absolutely indifferent
about the torments rational beings
378may endure in that space which is
represented by the idea of infinity and eternity?
The metaphysical idea, which determines
us to place our consciousness on that
imperceptible and mysterious point, which
unites our present thoughts to the past, and
our actual sentiments to our hopes and fears;
this thought is not sufficient to make us regardless
of our fate, or render us indifferent
to the unknown effects which may result
from the revolutions of a nature, which we
are not acquainted with: the anxieties and
troubles of the beings who are to live in the
ages yet unborn, do not interest us as belonging
to any particular person; however,
we have, for those abstract misfortunes, in
this instance, a sympathy which escapes
reasoning.
I agree, that in the system of undirected
nature, happiness or misery, transitory or
without end, have the same degree of probability:
but what a terrifying resemblance!
Can we undismayed consider such a chance?
379How happens it then, that some pretend,
that atheism frees us from every kind of
terror about futurity? I cannot perceive,
that such a conclusion flows from this fatal
system. A God, such as my heart delineates,
encourages and moderates all my
feelings; I say to myself, He is good and
indulgent, He knows our weakness, He
loves to produce happiness; and I see the
advances of death without terror, and often
with hope. But every fear would become
reasonable, if I lived under the dominion of
an insensible nature, whose laws and revolutions
are unknown: I seek for some means
to escape from its power;—but even
death cannot afford me a retreat, or space
an asylum. I reflect, if it is possible,
to find compassion and goodness; but
here is no prime intelligence, no first
cause, a blind nature surrounds us, and
governs imperiously. I in vain demand,
what is to be done with me? it is
deaf to my voice. Devoid of will,
thought, and feeling, it is governed by
an irresistible force, whose motion is a
380mystery never to be unfolded. What a
view for the human mind, to anticipate the
destruction of all our primitive ideas of order,
justice, and goodness! Shall I further
say, when even, in every system, the entrance
of the future was unknown, I should
be less unhappy and forlorn, if it was to a
father, a benefactor, that I committed
the deposit of life which I held from him;
this last communication with the Master of
the World would mitigate my pains; my
eyes, when closing, would perceive His
power; that I should not lose all, I
might still hope that God remained with
those I loved, and find some comfort in the
thought, that my destiny was united to His
will, that my existence and the employments
I devoted myself to, formed one of the indelible
points of His eternal remembrance; and that
the incomprehensible darkness I was going to
plunge into, is equally a part of His empire.
But when a feeling and elevated soul, which
sometimes enjoys a sentiment of its own
grandeur, should certainly know, that dragged
by a blind motion, it was going to be
381dissipated, to be scattered in that dreary
waste, where all that is most vile on earth
is indifferently precipitated; such a thought
would blight the noblest actions, and be a
continual source of sadness and despondency.
Save us from these dreadful reflections, sublime
and cherished belief of a God! afford
us the courage and comfort we need, and
guard our minds, as from fatal phantoms,
from all those vain suppositions, those errors
of reasoning and metaphysical subtleties,
which interpose between man and his Creator!
And we, full of confidence in the first
lesson of nature, will take for a guide that
interior sentiment which is not thought, but
something more, which neither reasons nor
conjectures; but perhaps forms the closest
connexion and most certain communication
with those grand truths which the understanding
alone can never reach.
CHAP. XV. On the Respect that is due from true Philosophy to Religion.
382
The view of the universe, the reflections
of our minds, and the inclinations
of our hearts, all concur to strengthen
the thought, that there exists a God; and
without power to comprehend this Infinite
Being, to form a just idea of His essence
and perfections, the confused sentiment of
his grandeur, and the continual experience
of their own weakness, are so many imperious
motives, which, in all ages and countries,
have impelled men to worship a God.
Those natural ideas have acquired new force
by the light of revelation; but it is not in
a metaphysical work that the authenticity
of the Christian religion ought to be discussed;
nor could we add much to the doctrines
contained in books composed at different
periods on this important subject.
383All discussions which are allied to truths,
whose authenticity depends on facts, are necessarily
confined within certain bounds; and
we are obliged to pursue a beaten track,
and run over the same circle, when we
enter on such a well-known subject. I
shall then confine myself to some general
reflections, and make choice of those which
are best adapted to the particular genius
of the present age, and the modifications
which our sentiments receive from predominate
opinions; for our judgments, like
our impressions, vary with the change which
happens insensibly in habits and manners:
one age is that of intolerance and bigotry;
another of relaxation and indifference, or a
contempt of all ancient customs: every century,
every generation is distinguished by a
general character, a character which we
take sometimes for new ideas; whilst it is
nothing but the natural effect of exaggeration
in our preceding opinions. Men are
subject to moral laws, similar in several respects
to mechanical rules; and with all
384their knowledge and pride, they remind us
of those children, who, placed at the extremity
of a long balance, rise and fall successively.
They can only be fixed by moderate
sentiments, which are sustained by
their own force; any other has a borrowed
action, and this action is never in perfect
equilibrium with truth.
It is in the nature of revelation to appear
less evident to the mind, in proportion as
the proofs of its authenticity are distant;
and if, among the dogmas united to a religious
doctrine, some one contains a mystic
sense; if, among the forms of worship
adopted, some one is not consonant with
the simple and majestic idea which we
ought to have of the Master of the World;
it would not be extraordinary that this religious
institution, considered in its different
parts, should give birth to controversies;
and we should not be exasperated against
those, who, after having faithfully examined,
still have some doubts. It is in proportion
to the extent of our understanding that God
385has thought fit to manifest Himself to us;
thus, the exertion of those faculties of the
mind cannot be displeasing to Him. But
reason left to itself, and even when improved
by philosophy, should, by no
means, lead men to any kind of contempt
for religious worship in general, or
any of the particular opinions of which
Christianity is the support. Any doctrine
which leads to the adoration of the God of
the universe is worthy of the respect of His
creatures: thus, persons most disposed to
contest the authenticity of the sacred books,
ought still to love precepts which seem to
come to the aid of the human mind, in order
to assist men in the last efforts which
they make to know more of God; as the
friendly bark, offered to the forlorn wretch
struggling on the surface of the immense
waste of waters, on which his feeble hands
have vainly endeavoured to support him.
We cannot but have discovered, that the
sentiments of gratitude and respect which
386inspire men, the most capable of reflection,
with the idea of a God, are intimately connected
with the Christian doctrines, such as
we find them in the New Testament; and
in those moments, when, with the desire of
happiness, and the timidity which belongs
to our nature, we seek to unite our littleness
to supreme grandeur, and our extreme weakness
to Omnipotence, the divine perfections
which the gospel delineates encourage our
hopes and dissipate our fears; religion
shows us all that we have need of in our
miserable condition, a sovereign goodness,
an inexhaustible compassion: thus then, the
last link of the Christian faith, like the termination
of the deepest meditations, reaches
the same conclusion; and religion agrees
with philosophy, in the moment when it is
most elevated.
However, the Christian and the Deist
unite, in some manner, in the ultimate tendency
of their thoughts; they meet when
they throw their attention on civil society,
and when they seek to determine the duties
387of men; for a wise man must ever pay homage
to the morality of the gospel, and the
philosopher could not have imagined a more
reasonable system, or one more conformable
to our situation[6]. If it is then true, that
opinions, in appearance opposite, approach,
at their extremities; and if it is true, that
the adoration of a God, and respect for
morality, form by uniting, the circle of
evangelical doctrines, it very little concerns
the reasonable philosopher, that the Christian
faith is placed between those two grand
ideas; if he thinks he can himself explore
the space which separates man from his
Creator, for what reason would he condemn
with bitterness the sentiments of those who
are attached to the comfortable system of
intercession and redemption, of which
Christianity has laid the foundation?
In short, were they even not to agree in
every opinion with the interpreters of the
Christian doctrine, this would not be a sufficient
388reason for breaking the religious alliance
which ought to subsist amongst men;
an alliance represented and rendered authentic,
in every nation, by the public worship
which has been made choice of by the
government. What idea then should we
have of the genius or the abilities of a philosopher,
who, at the sight of the ceremonies
of the public worship which disgust him,
could not rise above them, so as to consider
them, in some measure, as the atmosphere
of religious opinions, which turning his attention
from the importance of those opinions,
could not preserve, at least, some
respect for all the dependencies of the most
sublime and salutary thought? It is easy,
however, to perceive, that, for the generality
of men, the duties of morality, religion,
and all the exterior homage rendered
to the Deity, compose a whole so
closely connected, that the basis is in danger
when the outworks are attacked. The
imagination of the vulgar cannot be guided
in the same manner as that of the solitary
thinker; and it would be committing a
389great error, to try to influence the opinions
of the generality by the same considerations
which are sufficient for the man who profoundly
reflects: there is a system proportionate
to the different faculties of intelligent
beings, as there is one applicable to
the varied forces of their physical nature.
I know nothing more dangerous, than
the inconsiderate censures of those religious
ceremonies received and respected in the
country we live in: some do not think that
they are acting wrong when they speak
slightingly of the various symbols of public
worship; yet, if they attentively observed
the kind of minds, and the first habits of
the greater part of those to whom they address
such discourses, they would know
how easy it is to wound them in the sentiment
which is the source of all their tranquility,
and the safeguard of their moral
conduct. The deliverer of Switzerland struck
off with one of his arrows an apple placed
on the head of his only son; but every one
cannot expect to be so fortunate.
390Some would contradict these assertions,
by saying, that celebrated men have occasioned
rapid changes in the church of Rome
without weakening religion. The origin,
the circumstances, and the result of a revolution
so marked in history, has not any
connexion with the present question; the
reformers of the sixteenth century, preaching
a new doctrine, openly professed religious
zeal and a fervent piety: thus, at the
same time that they disapproved of a part
of the established worship, they more rigidly
recommended all the fundamental opinions
of Christianity, and sought to introduce
a severity of manners which even extended
to the proscription of several indulgences
that had not been before condemned:
and, in fact, if the new doctrines had not
been united to the greatest respect for the
essential principles of the Christian religion,
they never would have had so many followers.
They cannot then establish any kind of
comparison between the censures poured
391forth by the reformers, and the ridicule or
contempt of those who now insult our most
respectable opinions; those men, who at
present abound, are sometimes excited by a
libertinism of mind and conduct, by self-love
or the enthusiasm of false philosophy,
and some of them are seduced by an air
of superiority, attached to the principles
which they themselves institute. There
is a great difference between the grave and
serious course of the reformers, and the various
evolutions of the active opponents of
religion: the latter do not take care to stop
at clearing up a point of doctrine, or a disputed
interpretation of some dogma; it is
religion itself that they wish to attack, and
if they begin with the outworks, it is in order
to undermine it; they take skilfully their
post, and know when to have recourse to a
tone of pleasantry; which is very dangerous,
as it gives an air of confidence to those who
employ it, and they obtain a kind of ascendency
in avoiding every idea of an equal
combat: one is disposed to think, that it is
by disdain that they glance slightly over the
392subject; we cowardly submit to the appearance
of their superiority; and that
which is in them weakness or impotence
gives consequence.
Men, in order to express their gratitude
to the sovereign Master of the World, must
borrow from their imaginations every thing
grand and majestic: thus, when they detach
from those reverential signs the ideas that
they represented and preserve, they only display
a vain gravity, a chimerical pomp;
and it is easy to make a similar contrast a
subject of ridicule; but in acting thus, far
from making us applaud their talents, they
insult, without any sense, the habit most
men have acquired of venerating, on the
whole, every system of worship paid the
Supreme Being.
Nevertheless, the bold and frivolous discourses
which are permitted against religion
in general, have made such a progress,
that at present the persons who most
respect these opinions, without ostentation
393or severity, find themselves obliged to conceal
or moderate their sentiments, lest they
should be exposed to a kind of contemptuous
pity, or run the risk of being suspected
of hypocrisy. We are at liberty to speak on
every subject, except the most grand and
interesting which can occupy men. What
strange authority gave rise to this imperious
legislation, which is termed fashionable?
What a miserable conspiracy, that of weakness
against Omnipotence! Men are proud
of knowing at what hour the king wakes,
goes to the chace, or returns; they are very
eager to be informed of the vile intrigues
which successively debase or exalt his courtiers;
they pass, in short, their whole lives
in panting after objects of vanity and badges
of slavery; they are continually brought
into conversation; and they proscribe, under
the dreadful name of vulgarity, the most
remote expression, which would recal the
idea of the harmonious universe, and the
Being who has bestowed on us all the gifts
of the mind; what is most excellent in our
nature we overlook, to dwell only on the
394inflations of vanity. Ungrateful that we
are! Our intelligence, our will, all our
senses, are the seal of an unknown power;
and, is it the name of our Master and Benefactor
that we dare not pronounce? it is
from your modern philosophers that this
false shame arises; you, who spread derision
over the most respectable sentiments, and
employing in the dispute the frivolous shafts
of ridicule, have given confidence to the
most insignificant of men; you have, for
your followers, a numerous race, which is
taken promiscuously from every rank and
age.
We now reckon, amongst those who oppose
a contemptuous smile to religious opinions,
a multitude of young people, often
incapable of supporting the most trivial arguments,
and who, perhaps, could not connect
two or three abstract propositions. These
pretended philosophers artfully, and almost
perfidiously, take advantage of the first flight
of self-love, to persuade beginners, that they
are able to judge at a glance, of the serious
395questions which have eluded the penetration
of the most exercised thinkers: in
short, such is in general the decisive tone of
the irreligious men of our age, that in hearing
them so boldly murmur about the disorders
of the universe, and the mistakes of
Providence; we are only surprised to see
how much they differ in stature from those
rebellious giants mentioned in the heathen
mythology.
I believe, however, that if contempt for
religious opinions did not produce a striking
contrast, those who profess to feel this
contempt would quickly adopt other sentiments;
they only superficially attend to
the pernicious tendency of their maxims,
whilst they believe themselves still in the opposition;
but if they ever obtained a majority,
not having then the spur of self-love,
they would soon discover the absurdity
of their principles, and hastily throw them
aside.
396There are, undoubtedly, a great number
of estimable persons, who highly value the
truths and precepts of religion, yet are a
prey to doubt and uncertainty, and who become
the first victims of the inconsistencies
of their minds; but men of such a character
do not aim at dominion, on the contrary,
they rather wish to be confirmed by
the example of those whose confidence is
more assured; they would consider with
interest the sentiments that unfortunately
have made too slight an impression on
them; and they would endeavour to
strengthen their weak hopes, till they
reached the courageous persuasion which
inspires the Christian:——yes, even the
enthusiasm of piety excites their envy, as it
is more delightful to yield to the emotions
of a lively imagination, than to struggle
with apathy against the opinions calculated
to diffuse happiness. Thus, if amongst the
number of persons that I have just delineated,
there were some to whom nature
had granted superior talents, wit or eloquence,
they would carefully avoid exerting
397them to disturb the repose of those peaceable
souls who calmly rely on religion, and
receive all their consolation from that source.
A wise man never permits himself to spread
sadness and discouragement, in order to
gratify the ridiculous vanity of exalting
himself a little above common opinions, or
to show his abilities by making some ingenious
distinctions concerning particular
parts of the established religion; in the same
manner, as it would be the height of folly
to stop an army during its march, to discriminate
systematically the perfect justness
of the different tones of the warlike instruments
of music. The bold and frivolous
opinions of several philosophers, have appeared
to me to be weak, where they most
wish to rise; I mean, in the extent and
loftiness of their views.
I need not speak to those who deny even
the existence of a God. Alas! if they are
so unhappy as to shut their eyes, and not
to admit this resplendant light; if they
have a soul so insensible, as not to be affected
398with the comfortable truths which
flow from such a noble thought; if they
are become deaf to the interesting voice of
nature; if they trust more to their weak
reasoning, than the warnings of conscience
and sensibility; at least, let them not spread
their disastrous doctrine, which, like the
head of Medusa, would transform every
thing into stone. Let them remove from
us that frightful monster, or let his hoarse
hissing be only heard in the dreary solitude,
of which their heart presents the idea;
let them spare the human race, and have
pity on the distress into which they would
be plunged, if the mild light, which serves
to guide them, were ever to be obscured:
in short, if they really believe that morality
can agree with atheism, let them give the
first proof of it, by remaining silent; but if
they cannot abstain from publishing their
opinions, let a remnant of generosity induce
them to inform us of their dangerous tendency,
by placing in the frontispiece of their
works this terrible inscription of Dante’s:
Lasciat’ ogni speranza voi ch’ entrate.
CHAP. XVI. The same Subject continued. Reflections on Intolerance.
399
The surface of the earth represents to
us about the two hundred and fortieth
part of the surperfice of the different
opaque bodies which revolve round the sun.
The fixed stars are so many suns, which,
according to all appearance, serve equally
to enlighten and fertilize planets similar to
those we are acquainted with.
A famous astronomer[7] has lately discovered
fifty thousand new stars in a zone
fifteen degrees in length and two in breadth,
a space which corresponds with the thirteen
hundred and sixty-fourth part of the celestial
sphere.
400Thus, supposing that we perceive an
equal number of stars in every other parallel
section of the firmament, the quantity we
should be acquainted with would rise to
near sixty-nine millions.
And if each of these stars were the centre
of a planetary system, resembling the one
we inhabit, we should have an idea of the
existence of a number of habitable globes,
whose extent would be sixteen or seventeen
millions of times more considerable than the
surface of the earth[8].
401However, the ingenious invention which
assists us to explore the vaulted firmament
is susceptible of new improvement; and
even at the period when it may arrive at the
greatest perfection, the space which our
astronomic knowledge may have taken possession
of, will only be a point in the vast
extent which our imagination can conceive.
This imagination itself, like all our intellectual
faculties, is perhaps only a simple
degree of infinite powers; and the images
that it presents are but an imperfect sketch
of universal existence.
What then becomes of our earth, in the
midst of that immensity which the human
mind vainly tries to grasp? What is it even
now, compared with that number of terrestrial
bodies we can calculate or suppose?
Is it then the inhabitants of this grain
of sand, is it only a few of them, that have
discovered the true mode of worshipping the
Creator of so many wonders? Their dwelling
402is a point in infinite space; the life
which they enjoy is but one of the moments
which compose eternity; they pass
away like a flash of lightning in that course
of ages, in which generations after generations
are lost. How then dare any of them
announce to the present age, and to those to
come, that men cannot escape the vengeance
of Heaven if they alter one tittle of the Ritual?
What an idea they give of the relation
established between the God of the
universe and the atoms dispersed throughout
nature? Let them then raise one of the extremities
of that veil which covers so many
mysteries, let them consider a moment the
wonders on every side, the starry firmament,
and the inconceivably dreary immensity
which their imagination cannot embrace;
and let them judge, if it is by the
exterior form of their adoration, the vain
pomp of their ceremonies, that this Omnipotent
God can distinguish their homage.
Is it then, by the pride of our opinions, that
we think to reach the Supreme Being? It
is more comfortable, more reasonable to believe,
403that all the inhabitants of the earth
have access to His throne, and that we are
permitted to raise ourselves to it by a profound
sentiment of love and gratitude, as
the most sure and intimate relation between
man and his Creator.
Undoubtedly it is necessary that public
worship should be constantly regulated, and
that distinct symbols should be respected,
whose essential character ought not to vary,
that the sentiments of the generality, so
promptly affected by exterior objects, may
not be exposed to any alteration; it is necessary
that weak minds easily find their
way, and that they are not embarrassed with
doubt and uncertainty; in short, it is to be
desired, that the citizens, united by the same
laws and political interests, should be so by
the same worship, in order that the sacred band
of religion may take them all in; and that
principles of education should be maintained
and fortified by example. But as morality
is the first law of princes, and that always
clear and distinct in its motives and instructions,
404it ought to precede the uncertain
combinations of the politician. A government
is never permitted to aim at any end
by unjust means, let it be ever so desirable;
and I believe that this rule is equally adapted
to the opinions of men and their rights. It
would be possible to conceive a system of
distribution, with respect to the fortunes of
men, more convenient than any other for
the increase of public wealth and the power
of the state; but though this knowledge
should influence the general conduct of government,
it receives no right from its discernment,
to arrange according to its will,
the situation of every citizen. The same
principle has greater force applied to opinions:
it is reasonable to seek to direct their
course by slow and mild means; but the
system of unity, which is certainly most
conducive to the happiness of a state, would
cease to be good, if, in order to establish
that system, violence, or merely constraint,
was had recourse to: liberty of thought is
the first of rights, and the most respectable
dominion is that of conscience.
405Some now talk of the union of civil tolerance
and religious intolerance; the one protects
Protestants in Catholic countries, and
Catholics in Protestant countries; and the
other would forbid every kind of worship
which is not conformable to the institutions
of the predominant religion: but upon this
plan, if the number of Dissenters was to become
considerable, an important part of the
nation would be without worship; and the
government should not appear indifferent
to this, since it is of great importance to
mankind to maintain carefully every support
of morality.
There is nothing more to be said on intolerance
when we consider it in its excess.
We all now know what we ought to think
of the severities and persecutions which
history has transmitted an account of, and
we know the opinion we should form of
many acts of intolerance and inhumanity
which some have for a long time gloried in;
and we cannot stifle our indignation at the
sight of the faggots that are still lighted
406round those unhappy wretches scattered
over the face of the earth, of whom
Jesus Christ himself said, with so much
goodness, in the midst of his agonies; Father
forgive them, for they know not what
they do. It is time to abolish for ever those
dreadful customs, ignominious remembrance
of our ancient phrensies! O God, are
these Thy creatures that they dare to torment
in Thy name! Is it the work of Thy hand
that they sacrifice to Thy glory?—Petty tyrants!
ferocious inquisitors! do you expect
to obtain the favour of Heaven, with a
heart hardened, after mutilating the members
and tearing the bosoms of those whom
you can only draw to you by a sentiment
of pity? whose emotions you are not acquainted
with? The God of goodness
rejects such offerings—He cannot away
with them. Who then will pardon errors,
if not men who are continually deceived!
Alas! if exactness of judgment, or the
perfection of reason, were the only title to
divine benevolence, there is not any one who
407might not cast down his eyes devoid of all
hope.
Those who proudly flatter themselves,
that they alone know the worship agreeable
to the Supreme Being, lose all their claim
to our confidence, when, guided by a spirit
of intolerance, they depart so visibly from
the character which ought to inspire the
idea of a God, protector of human weakness.
But the absurd attempt to inspire
faith by acts of rigour and severity, has
been so often and so ably combated, that I
shall not dwell on a principle, the truth
of which common sense will discover. I
shall only make one observation sufficient
to intimidate the conscience of inquisitors,
and all those who adopt their maxims.
The operations of the mind can only be
influenced by reasoning, all the designs
formed to attain this end by violence are
attempts to subvert the belief of the spirituality
of the soul, and indirect associations
with materialists; for we must believe in
the identity of matter and thought to have
408a right of presuming, that the empire exercised
on us by rigorous treatment can
have an influence on our opinions; and
then we must consider man as a being governed
by mechanical laws, to be able to
imagine, that with instruments of torture
we can excite a sensation, which, by an
unknown conduit, might act instead of
judgment and the sentiment of persuasion.
It is because, the indignant emotions
of a worthy heart are more powerful than
the cool arguments of offended reason, that
we rise with warmth against intolerance;
for without this motive it would only deserve
our contempt, as indicating a singular
littleness of soul. Who can remember
without pity, those dissensions so long maintained,
in which men, both weak and blind,
united in the name of devotion, actuated by
self-love, unintelligible decrees, to some important
controversy? All these disputes appear
foolish when we coolly examine them; and
we have only to consider, abstractedly,
409those quarrels, to discover all their absurdity.
But as it is only by spreading knowledge
and diffusing wholesome precepts that we
can hope to cure enthusiasm and intolerance;
we ought to be on our guard against
the dangerous spirit of indifference, otherwise
one evil will be removed only to
introduce another equally fatal; when trying
to divert men from fanaticism, we
destroy the ideas which served as a
foundation for religion. There could
not subsist any sound opinion or estimable
principle, if the different errors which
creep round them were torn away by an
awkward or violent hand; and is the evil,
which continually mixes with the good,
became the subject of blind proscription.
Let us loudly acknowledge the benefits
which we have received from distinguished
writers, who have defended with zeal and
energy the cause of toleration; it is an obligation,
410added to many others, which it is
just to acknowledge, that we have received
from genius and talents united: but permit
us also to observe, that several of those
writers have lost a part of the applause due
to them, by seeking to depress religion, in
order to succeed in their attempt; such a
proceeding was unworthy of enlightened
philosophers, who more than others ought
to assign limits to reason, and never despair
of its influence. What should we think,
if, amongst those who justly attack the
tyranny exercised over conscience, there
were some intolerant in the defence of toleration;
and if we had reason to reproach
them with despising, and sometimes hating
those who do not concur with them; and
by an inconsiderate imputation of pusillanimity
or hypocrisy, make the characters
and intentions of those who do not
adopt their sentiments appear suspicious?
What a strange inconsistency, in a different
way, do they not exhibit; forgetting, sometimes,
their own opinions, and contradicting,
without thinking, their acknowledged
411incredulity, they raise a clamour about the
miseries to which mankind are subject, and
display the pretended disorders of the universe,
in order, afterwards, to throw an
odium on the God whose existence they contest,
to ridicule a Providence they do not
rely on! One would think, that after having
overturned the empire of the Deity,
that they might remain the only legislators
of the world; they regretted not having
any longer a rival, and wished to rebuild
the temple they have destroyed, to have
again a vain idol to insult. Another inconsistency
appears in their asperity against
those who resist their dogmas, whilst, in
the system of fate, reason does not preserve
its empire, and the master, as well as the
disciple, are equally subject to the laws of
necessity.
To exercise an authority over the mind
by the power of eloquence is a great advantage;
for such an authority is not confined
to any place or time; but to have a right
to such an extensive reign, we must renounce
412fashionable opinions, the counsels
of vanity and the instigations of self-love;
and be only actuated by that universal and
durable interest, the happiness of mankind.
I would not wish to prohibit the wise
man or philosopher from treating any subject
proper to direct our judgment; for there
are abuses and prejudices every where, which
we cannot destroy without making a step
towards reason and truth; but as there is a
philosophy for the thoughts, there is one
also for the actions. I indeed wish that
men of an enlarged turn of mind, who perceive
at a glance the moral order of things,
would attack with more caution and moderation,
and at a proper season, that which
directly relates to the opinions most essential
to our happiness; and that a respect for
these opinions should be manifest, even
when they censure fanaticism and superstition.
Such a wish is far from being realized;
and I cannot help lamenting, when I consider
413the design of the greater part, who
have written for some time past on religious
subjects: some seek artfully to destroy, or,
at least, relax the band which unites men
to the idea of a Supreme Being; and others
shut up in some mystic idea, as in a dark
den, blindly level their anathemas against
every kind of doubt and uncertainty; and
confound, in their rigorous censures, the
accessary ideas with the principal opinions.
However, in taking a course so opposite,
they unfortunately have an equal interest in
ranking the essential principles of religion
with the most insignificant symbols: but
influenced by very different motives; the
former act with a view of making religious
zeal serve to defend every part of the
worship of which they are the ministers;
the latter, guided by a motive of self-love,
readily admit confusion, that they may
have an opportunity of undermining religion
when they attack its outworks.
414We have need, more than ever, to be
directed to religion by wise and moderate
discourses, by a happy mixture of reason
and sensibility, the true characteristic of
evangelical morality. It is only by these
means that the authority of salutary
truths can be strengthened: we are easily
hurried beyond the just line, when the human
mind is not in a state to mark any limits;
but the daily progress of knowledge
obliges us to use more exactness: it is necessary
then to rein in the imagination, and
to allow reason to take place of it: yet it
is still allowed us to animate reason, and even
useful to do so, but we must absolutely avoid
disguising it. False notions only have need of
the assistance of exaggeration; it seems that
some are very fond of extremes, that common
sense may not investigate them.
I will make another observation. Those
who, to free us from superstition, endeavour
to relax religious restrictions; and
those who, to strengthen them, have recourse
to intolerance, equally miss their
415aim. The hatred so naturally excited by
every kind of violence and constraint, in
matters of opinion, creates a repugnance in
those persons to religion who are insensibly
led to consider this excellent system as the
motive or excuse for a blind spirit of persecution.
And the direct attacks against religious
opinions engage well-disposed minds
to adhere more strenuously to every custom
which appears a form of respect or adoration;
as we redouble our zeal for a friend
in the midst of those who neglect or slight
him.
Let us unite, and it is certainly time, to
render to the Supreme Being sincere worship;
and let that worship always be worthy
of the dignity of our Creator: let us
banish severity and superstition; but let us
equally dread that culpable indifference, the
cause of so many misfortunes; and when
we shall have strengthened the influence of
sound reason, let us adhere more closely to
the useful opinions which have been refined
from errors, and with all our force repulse
416those who wish us to bury our hopes to free
ourselves from the wanderings of the imagination.
Yes, a religion, disengaged from
the passions of men, in its native beauty,
ought to dwell with us; public order and
private happiness equally claim it, and all
our reflections lead us to elevate our hearts
towards an Omnipotent Being, of whose
existence all nature reminds us: religion
well understood, far from being the necessary
principle of rigour or violence, should
be the foundation of every social virtue,
and of every mild and indulgent sentiment.
We are not called to tyrannize over the opinions
of others, or to give despotic laws to
the mind; we must observe, that a moderate
and rational religion only will guide
us to the path of happiness and virtue, by
addressing equally our hearts and minds.
CHAP. XVII. Reflections on the Morality of the Christian Religion.
417
I will venture a few reflections on a
subject which has often been treated;
the course of my subject naturally leads to it:
but in order to avoid, as much as possible,
what is generally known, I shall confine
myself to consider the morality of the gospel,
under a point of view which seems to
me to distinguish its sublime instructions.
The most distinct characteristic of christianity
is the spirit of charity and forbearance
which pervades all its precepts. The
ancients, undoubtedly, respected the beneficent
virtues; but the precept which commends
the poor and the weak, to the
protection of the opulent, belongs essentially
to our religion. With what care,
with what love, the Christian legislator
418returns continually to the same sentiment
and interest! the tenderest pity lent to his
words a persuasive unction; but I admire,
above all, the awful lesson he has given, in
explaining the close union established between
our sentiments towards the Supreme
Being and our duties towards men. Thus,
after having termed the love of God, the
first commandment of the law, the Evangelist
adds; and the second, which is like unto
it, is to love thy neighbour as thyself. The
second, which is like unto it! what simplicity,
what extent in that expression! Can any
thing be more interesting and sublime, than
to offer continually to our mind the idea of a
God taking on himself the gratitude of the
unfortunate? Where find any principle of
morality, of which the influence can ever equal
such a grand thought? The poor, the miserable,
however abject their state, appear
surrounded with the symbol of glory, when
the love of humanity becomes an expression
of the sentiments which elevate us to God;
and the mind ceases to be lost in the immensity
of His perfections, when we hope
419to maintain an habitual intercourse with the
Supreme Being, by the services which we
render to men; it is thus that a single
thought spreads a new light on our duty,
and gives to metaphysical ideas a substance
conformable to our organs.
Justice, respect for the laws, and duty to
ourselves, may be united, in some manner,
to human wisdom; goodness alone, among
all the virtues, presents another character;
there is in its essence something vague and
undeterminate which claims our respect; it
seems to have a relation with that intention,
that first idea which we must attribute to
the Creator of the world, when we wish to
discover the cause of its existence. Goodness
then is the virtue, or to express myself
with more propriety, the primitive beauty,
that which has preceded time. Thus the
pressing exhortations to benevolence and
charity, which we find running through
the gospel, should elevate our thoughts, and
penetrate us with profound respect; it recals
us, it unites us, to a sentiment more
420ancient than the world, to a sentiment, by
which we have received existence, and the
hopes which compose our present happiness[9].
But if, from these elevated contemplations,
we, for a moment, descend to the political
principles which have the greatest extent,
we shall find there the influence of a
truth on which I have already had occasion
to dwell; but I shall now treat it in a different
manner. The unequal division of
property has introduced amongst men an authority
very like that of a master over his
slaves; we may even justly say, that in
many respects the empire of the rich is still
more independent; for they are not bound
constantly to protect those from whom they
require services: the taste and caprice of these
favourites of fortune fix the terms of their
convention with men, whose only patrimony
421is their time and strength; and as soon
as this convention is interrupted, the poor
man, absolutely separated from the rich,
remains again abandoned to accidents; he
is obliged then to offer his labours with
precipitation to other dispensers of subsistence;
and thus he may experience, several
times in the year, all the inquietudes that must
necessarily arise from uncertain recourses.
Undoubtedly, in giving the support of the
laws to a similar constitution, it has been
reasonably supposed, that in the midst of
the multiplied relations of social life, there
would be a kind of balance and equality
between the wants which oblige the poor to
solicit wages, and the desires of the rich
which engage them to accept their services;
but this equilibrium, so essentially necessary,
can never be established in an exact and
constant manner, since it is the result of a
blind concourse of combinations, and the
uncertain effect of an infinite multitude of
movements, not one of which is subject to
a positive direction. However, since to
maintain the distinction of property they
422were obliged to leave to chance the fate of
the greater number of men, it was indispensably
necessary to find some salutary opinion,
proper to temper the abuses inseparable
from the free exercise of the rights of
property; and that happy and restoring idea
could only have been discerned in an obligation
of benevolence imposed on the will,
and a spirit of general charity recommended
to all men: these sentiments and duties, the
last resource offered to the unfortunate, can
alone mitigate a system, in which the fate of
the most numerous part of a nation rests, on
the doubtful agreement of the conveniences
of rich with the wants of the poor.
Yes, without the aid, without the intervention
of the most estimable of virtues, the
generality would have just reason to regret
the social institutions, which, at the price
of their independance, left to the master the
care of their subsistence; and it is thus that
charity, respectable under so many different
views, becomes still an intelligent and political
idea, which serves to blend personal
liberty and the imperious laws of property.
423I know not if ever the christian precepts
have been considered under this point of
view; but reflecting a little on this subject,
we perceive more than ever of what importance
the salutary institutions are, which
place in the first rank of our duties the beneficent
spirit of charity, and which lends
to the most essential virtue all the force and
constancy which religion gives birth to.
Thus, at the same time that the doctrines
of the gospel elevate our thoughts, its sublime
morality accompanies, in some measure,
our laws and institutions, to sustain
those which are really conformable to reason,
and to remedy the inconveniences inseparable
from the imperfections of human
wisdom.
It is not, however, only to pecuniary
sacrifices, that the gospel applies its precepts
respecting charity; it extends to those
generous acts of self-denial, that religion
alone can render supportable; and which
makes some descend with a firm step into
the dreary abodes, in which the culprit is a
424prey to the remorse that tears his heart;
and when his very relations have abandoned
him, he still beholds a comforter, whom
religion conducts to pour consolation into
his afflicted soul. The same motives
and thoughts induce some to renounce
the world and its hopes, to consecrate
themselves entirely to the service of the
sick, and to fulfil those sad functions with
an assiduity and a constancy, that the most
splendid reward could never excite. O
rare and disinterested virtue, perfection of
piety! what a tribute of admiration is due
to the sublime sentiment which inspires
such painful self-denial! Men are only stimulated
by notions of right and justice; it
belongs to christianity to impose duties,
whose base is placed beyond the narrow
circle of our terrestrial interests. I know
not, but it seems to me, that, notwithstanding
a diversity of opinions, we cannot
help being affected, when we contemplate
the sketch of the last day which the gospel
delineates: it exhibits a terrific and sublime
picture of that day, in which all actions
425are to be revealed, and the most secret
thoughts have the universe for a witness,
and God as a judge; and at the moment
when we wait to see the retinue of virtues
and vices which have rendered men
celebrated, it is a single quality, a virtue
without splendour, which is chosen by the
Divine Arbiter of our fate, to derive an
immortality of happiness from, and He
pronounces these memorable words, which
contain in a small compass our whole duty:—I
was hungry, and ye gave me meat;
thirsty, and ye gave me drink; I was a prisoner
and ye visited me. Come ye blessed of my
father, inherit the kingdom prepared for you,
&c. Men love to contemplate the triumphs
of goodness—love to exalt it under
different forms. We have so many wants,
are so weak, and we are able to do so little
for ourselves, that this interesting virtue appears
our safeguard and the mysterious tie
of all nature.
The spirit of charity, so essential in its
exact interpretation, may be applied to the
426regard and delicate attention that different
degrees of talents, render necessary: society,
under this relation, has also its rich and
poor; and we know the extent of charity
and the secrets of our moral nature, when
we practice that general benevolence, which
preserves others from feeling a painful
sentiment of inferiority, and which
makes it a duty to respect the veil, that a
beneficent hand has designedly placed between
the light of truth and those imperfections
which we cannot entirely correct.
It is always about the generality of men that
the author of christianity seems to be interested;
the gospel takes cognizance of their private
sentiments, condemning pride, and recommending
modesty; and it applies itself to
level those distances which appear to us so
important, when we only view the little
points of gradation which compose our scale
of vanity. Religion enables us to discern
that haughtiness and contempt, only display
our ignorance and folly: what hast
thou, that thou didst not receive? now if
427thou didst receive it, why dost thou glory?—What
is the pride that does not melt away before
these awful words? Religion seems ever to
tend towards the same end, and by continually
reminding us of the brevity of life, to prevent
strong illusions from engrossing our
thoughts.
The greater part of ancient moral instructions
were in general addressed, either
to man considered as an individual occupied
with the care of his destiny, or to the citizen
connected by his duties to his country,
and none of them had sufficient extent: it
is necessary, when giving counsel to a solitary
individual, only to try to free him from
those passions which would destroy his repose
and happiness; and the obligations that are
imposed on the different members of a political
state, necessarily participate of a jealous spirit,
which the will of the government may
turn into hatred. The Christian religion,
more universal in its views, turns its attention
from the contrariety of interests which divide
428men when they belong to different governments;
it considers us indistinctly as
citizens of a great society, united by the
same origin, nature, and dependencies, and
by the same sentiment of happiness. Recommending
the reciprocal duties of benevolence,
the gospel does not make any difference
between the inhabitant of Jerusalem and
Samaria; it takes man in the most simple
of his relations, and the most honourable,
those which arise from his intercourse with
the Supreme Being; and under this point
of view, all the hostile divisions of kingdom
against kingdom, absolutely disappear;
it is the whole human race which has a
right to the protection and the beneficence
of the Author of Nature, and it is in the
name of every intelligent being that we credit
the alliance which unites heaven to earth.
The rich and powerful made the first
laws, or, at least, directed the spirit of
them; it was especially to defend their possessions
and privileges that they extolled justice:
the legislator of our religion, speaking
429of this virtue, has shown, that the interests
of all men were equally present to his
thoughts; we might even say, that he made
an old obligation a new duty, by the manner
in which he prescribed it: Whatsoever ye
would that men should do to you, do ye even so to
them, is a maxim ever remarkable, if we consider
the extent of the precept which it contains:
there are so many acts of severity and
oppression, so much tyranny, which escapes
the reach of the law, and the superintendency
of opinion, that we cannot too
highly value its importance; Christianity
indeed affords a simple guide and measure
for all our actions.
Religion, beside, in order to fix our
determinations, strengthens the authority of
conscience: she saw, that every one of us has
within himself a judge, the most severe and
clear-sighted, and that it is sufficient to submit
to its laws to be instructed in our duty;
for it is our hidden thoughts that this judge
examines, and nothing is excused, no subterfuge
admitted.
430It is not the same with those censures
which we exercise towards others, the simple
actions only strike us; and the different
motives they result from, the emotions, the
conflicts which accompany them, and the
regret, the repentance, which follow them,
all these essential characteristics escape our
penetration: thus religion, always wise, always
benevolent in its counsels, forbids our
forming hasty and precipitate judgments;
and we cannot read, without emotion, that
lesson of indulgence so mildly addressed to
the crowd which surrounded the woman
taken in adultery, he that is without sin among
you, let him first cast a stone at her. But how
resist being affected by admiration, when we
see religion so warmly employed about the
fate of those whom the suspicions or false
accusations of men have dragged before
their tribunals? by declaring that it is
better to let a hundred culprits escape punishment,
than run the risk of condemning
a single person unjustly. This tender anxiety
corresponds with every sentiment of our
hearts. Innocence delivered to infamy, innocence
431encompassed with all the horrors of
an execution, is the most dreadful sight that
the imagination can present; and we are so
struck by it, that we should be almost disposed
to think, that before the Supreme
Being the whole human race is responsible
for such a crime: yes, it is under Thy protection,
O my God, that unknown virtue
and injured innocence take shelter; men
turn towards Thee for comfort when pursued
by men, and it is not in vain that
they trust in that awful day when all shall
be judged before Thee.
I wish only to dwell on the particular
character of the Christian religion, as it
proportions the merit of our actions, not to
the grandeur or importance of them; but
to the relation that they have with our
abilities, it is an idea absolutely new: this
system, which presents the same motives
and rewards to the weak and strong, remarked
the widow’s mite, as well as the
generous sacrifices of opulence; this system,
as just as rational, animates, in some measure,
432our whole moral nature, and seems to
inform us, that a vast circle of good actions
and social virtues are submitted to the same
rules, as the immense domain of physical
nature, in which the simplest flower, or
the most insignificant plant, concurs to
perfect the designs of the Supreme Being,
and composes one part of the harmonious
universe.
The superintendance of the Christian religion
extends still further than I can point
out; and guided by a spirit not to be equalled,
it estimates our intentions, obscure dispositions,
and internal determinations, often
separated from action by different obstacles:
it directs men, in some measure, from their
first sentiments and designs; it continually
reminds them of the presence of God; warns
them to watch over themselves, when their
inclinations are but dawning, before they
have gained strength; in short, at an early
hour it forms the mind to the exercise of
virtue, by discriminating virtue and vice,
and reminding us to cultivate a love of order
433and propriety before the active scenes of
life force those sentiments to appear conspicuously
displayed in actions.
But the more the methods of meriting
the divine approbation are multiplied, the
more essential is it that our confidence should
not be depressed, every instant, by the sentiment
which arises from the experience of
our errors; it is necessary, that at the moments,
too frequent, when the chain which
unites us to the Supreme Being would escape
from our grasp, the hope of again seizing
it should remain with us: it is then to succour
our weak faith, that we see in the
gospel that idea at once so excellent and
new, that of repentance and the promises
which are annexed to it. This noble idea,
absolutely belonging to Christianity, prevents
our relation with the Deity from being
destroyed as soon as it is perceived; the
culprit may still hope for the favour of God,
and after contrition confide in Him. Human
nature, that singular connexion of the
spirit with matter, of strength with weakness,
434of reason with the imagination, persuasion
with doubt, and will with uncertainty,
necessarily requires a legislation appropriated
to a constitution so extraordinary:
man, in his most improved state, resembles
an infant, who attempts to walk, and falls,
rises and falls again; and he would soon be
lost to morality, if, after his first fault, he
had not any hope of repairing it; under
a similar point of view, the idea of repentance
is one of the most philosophical which
the gospel contains.
That pressing recommendation to do
good in secret, without ostentation, is the
result of a salutary and profound thought:
the legislator of our religion undoubtedly
had perceived that the praises of men was
not a basis sufficiently steady to serve for the
support of morality; and he discerned,
that vanity, allowed to enjoy these kind of
triumphs, was too dissipated to be a faithful
guide; but the most important part of that
precept is, that morality would be very circumscribed,
if men only adhered to those
435just actions which all the world might see;
there are not many opportunities to do good
in public, and the whole of life may be
filled by unseen virtues: in short, from that
continual relation with our conscience, a relation
instituted by religion, there results an
inestimable benefit; for it is easy to perceive,
that if we have within us a clear-sighted
and severe judge, this same judge
turns consoler and friend every time that
we are unjustly condemned, or when events
do not answer according to the purity of our
intentions; and we believe then that we
have almost two souls, one aiding and sustaining
the other on every occasion in which
virtue unites them.
The severe censure of superstition, which
we find throughout the gospel, is derived from
an idea as reasonable as enlightened; men
are too much disposed to make their
religion consist of little exterior practices,
always easier than the conflicts with and
triumphs over the passions: our minds
seize with avidity every extraordinary idea;
436when they are in part of our own creating,
they aid our self-love to subjugate our imagination;
man is not at the age of maturity
terrified by those phantoms which annoy his
infancy; but mysteries, occult causes, extraordinary
appearances, continue to make an
impression on his mind; and like the wonders
of nature, form too large a circle round
his thoughts; it is by ideas more proportioned
to his strength, by mere superstition,
that he permits himself often to be
led captive: we love trivial commands, observances,
and scruples, because we are little
ourselves, and that in our weakness we
would wish to know every instant the limits
of our obligations.
Sometimes, persons terrified by their
imaginations, or by the confused picture
which they form of the duties of religion,
attach themselves to superstitious practices
as a safeguard near at hand which may
quickly guard them from the different anxieties
of their minds. The precepts of the
gospel are designed to destroy these dispositions;
437for on one side, they facilitate the
study of morality, by reducing to simple
principles the entire system of our duties;
and on the other, they seek to render our
intercourse with the Supreme Being more
easy, by teaching us that we may unite ourselves
to Him by the expansion of a pure
mind; by informing us, that it is not either
on Mount Sion or Gerizim that we
are to raise an altar; but that every honest
heart is a temple, where the eternal is adored
in spirit and in truth. The Christian religion
is the only one which, discarding
ceremonies and superstitious opinions, leads
us to the worship more consonant to our
nature: Christianity indeed, in that grand
thought, has pointed out the dictates of
our conscience as most worthy of respect;
benevolence, as the worship most agreeable
to the Supreme Being, and all our
moral conduct as the most certain prognostic
of our future state. There reigns
a profound philosophy in the doctrines of
the gospel, men have only added a vain pageantry,
a more sounding tone.
438Let us render homage to Christianity, for
that sacred tie which it has formed, in
uniting not for a moment, but for the whole
of life, the fate of two beings, one having
need of support, and the other of comfort:
it is religion which refines this alliance by
rendering it immutable, and obliges men
not to sacrifice to the caprices of their
imaginations the unity and confidence
which secures the repose of families, order in
the disposition of fortunes, the peaceable
education of the succeeding generation, and
which, in giving to children, for an example,
a union formed by fidelity and duty,
implants in their hearts the seeds of the
most important virtues; religion has taught
us, that the friendships of a world, in
which selfishness reigns, have need of being
cemented by that community of interests
and honours which marriage only
gives us an idea of; holy union, alliance
without equal, which renders still more
valuable all the blessings of life, which
seems to augment our hopes, and fortify in
us the comfortable thoughts and mild confidence
439which piety gives birth to: the engagements
entered into between men, which
being, for the most part, sounded on reciprocal
services, a time might come,
when our weakness would be so great,
others having no more interest to associate
with us, it might be necessary to find a
support in that friendship which time has
matured, and of which a sentiment of duty
repairs the breaches, and which acquires a
kind of sanctity from the habit and the remembrance
of a long and happy union: it
is religion in, short, which has ordained,
that the delicate virtue, the most excellent
ornament of a weak and timid sex, should
only be subject to the ascendency of the
most generous and faithful sentiment.
These principles, indeed, are not formed for
corrupt hearts; but the service which religion
renders, the end which it proposes, is
to assist us to combat our depraved dispositions;
it is to point out the errors and the
snares of vice; it is to preserve, amongst us,
the sacred deposit of principles, which are the
foundation of public order, and still maintain
440some light to illuminate the path of
wisdom and true happiness.
Religion recals us continually to those
universal duties which we describe under
the name of good morals; duties that
men would often inconsiderately wish to separate
from public interest, but which,
however, are bound to it by so many almost
imperceptible and secret ties. Every act of
wisdom and virtue is not of immediate
importance to society; but morality must
be cultivated by degrees, and fortified by
habit, as it is like those delicate plants
which we rear with a kind of fondness
to preserve their beauty; if we make
a distinction between personal, domestic,
and public manners, in order to neglect,
as we find convenient, one part of our
duty, we shall lose the charm of it, and
every day virtue will appear more difficult.
There is, I think, a connexion, more or
less apparent, between every thing good and
worthy of esteem; and it seems to me, that
441this idea has something amiable, which
confusedly satisfies our most generous dispositions
and most comfortable hopes: and
if, to sustain a truth so important, I was permitted
to interrogate the young man, whose
virtues and talents are the most remarkable
in Europe, I should ask him, if he did
not experience that his filial tenderness, the
regularity of his domestic life, the purity of
his thoughts, and all his rare private qualities,
are not united to the noble sentiments
which make him appear with so much
splendour as a statesman? But without
dwelling on such instances, who has not
been sometimes struck with the beauty attached
to that simplicity and modesty of
manners which we often find in an obscure
situation? We then manifestly discover, that
there exists a kind of agreement and dignity,
I could almost say, a kind of grandeur, independent
of refined language, polished
manners, and all those advantages due to
birth, to rank, and fortune.
442I have only glanced over the benefits arising
from the Christian religion; but I
cannot avoid observing, that we owe to it a
consoling idea, that of the felicity reserved
for innocent babes; interesting and precious
hope for those tender mothers, who see slip
from their embraces the objects of their
love, at an age when they have not acquired
any merit before the Supreme Being, whom
they cannot have any relation with, but
through His infinite goodness. I feel that
I involuntarily mix with the elogiums of
Christianity a sentiment of gratitude for the
mild and paternal ideas which are disseminated
with its instructions; and there is something
remarkable in those instructions, that
they are continually animated by every thing
which can captivate our imagination, and
associate with our natural inclinations. Sensibility,
happiness, and hope, are the strongest
ties of a heart still pure; and all the
emotions which elevate towards the idea of
a God exalt in our minds the doctrine of
morality, which recals us continually to the
443sublime perfections of Him who was its
author.
In short, we cannot avoid admiring the
spirit of moderation, which forms one of
the distinct characteristics of the gospel;
we do not always find, it is true, the same
spirit in the interpreters of the Christian
doctrines; several constrained by a false zeal,
and more disposed to speak in the name of a
threatening master, than in that of a God,
full of wisdom and goodness, have frequently
exaggerated and multiplied the duties
of men; and to support their system,
they have often obscured the natural sense,
or the general import of the precepts contained
in the scriptures; and sometimes also,
collecting a few scattered words, they have
formed a body of divinity, foreign in several
respects to the intention of the apostles and first
Christians. Servants always go further than
their masters; and as the first thought does
not belong to them, they only act by adding
something heterogeneous: the spirit of moderation
consists, beside, in a kind of proportion,
444which mere imitators have only
an imperfect knowledge of; fortitude is
even necessary to impose limits on virtue
itself; and to determine the precise and
exact measure of the multiplied duties of
men requires a profound and sublime intelligence.
It was by his sublime precepts
that the institutor of a universal morality
shewed himself superior to that age of ignorance
in which extremes reigned; when
piety was changed into superstition, justice
into rigour, indulgence into weakness; and
when, in the exaggeration of every sentiment,
a kind of merit was sought for incompatible
with the immutable laws of
wisdom: it was by those sublime precepts,
in short, that a legislator rose above transitory
opinions to command all times and ages,
and that he appears to have been desirous to
adapt his instructions, not to the instantaneous
humour of a people, but to the nature of man.
We shall, beside, find easily in the gospel
several characteristics proper, essentially
to distinguish it from philosophic doctrines;
445but in an examination so serious and important
I avoid every observation which might
appear to the greater number a simple research
of the understanding; it is the grand
features only which belong to grand things,
and any other manner would not agree with
a subject so worthy of our respect. I must
say, however, that when I am left alone to
reflect with attention on the different parts
of the gospel, I have experienced, that, independent
of general ideas and particular
precepts which lead us every instant to profound
admiration, there reigns, beside, in
the whole of that sublime morality, a spirit
of goodness, of truth, and wisdom, of
which all the characters can only be perceived
by our sensibility, by that faculty
of our nature which does not separate objects,
which does not wait to define; but
which penetrates, as by a kind of instinct,
almost to that love, the origin of every
thing, and that indefinite model from which
every generous intention and grand thought
has taken its first form.
CHAP. XVIII. Conclusion.
446
What a time have I chosen to entertain
the world with morality and
religion! and what a theatre is this for such
an undertaking! Only to conceive it is a
great proof of courage; every one is employed
about his harvest; lives in his affairs;
is lost in the present instant, all the rest appears
chimerical. When I was formerly
engrossed by cares for the public welfare,
and writing on my favourite subject, I could
draw the attention of men by a series of reflections
on their own fortunes and on the
power of their country; it was in the name
of their most ardent passions that I engaged
them to listen to me; but in treating the
subject I have now made choice of, it is
their natural dispositions, now almost effaced,
that I must address: thus I feel the
necessity of re-animating the sentiments
which I wish to direct, and giving birth to
the interest I desire to enlighten. And
when I fix my attention on the actual course
447of opinions, I fear to have for judges, either
men who are indifferent to the subject, or
who are too severe in their censurers; but
the reflections of vanity are trivial to
the motives which have guided me; and
provided any of my thoughts have agreed
with the inclinations of feeling minds, and
added something to their happiness, I shall
enjoy the sweetest reward. Such a wish I
formed, when, with a weak hand, I ventured
to trace some reflections on the importance
of religious opinions.
The more we know of the world, its phantoms,
and vain enchantments, the more do we
feel the want of a grand idea to elevate the soul
above discouraging events which continually
occur. When we run after honours, fame,
and gratitude, we find every where illusions
and mistakes; and it is our lot to experience
those disappointments which proceed
from the infirmities or the passions of men.
If we leave our vessel in the harbour, the
success of others dazzles and disturbs us;
if we spread our sails, we are the plaything
of the winds: activity in action, ardour,
448and indifference, all have their cares and difficulties;
no person is sheltered from the caprices
of fortune, and when we have reached
the summit of our wishes, when we have
by chance attained the object of our ambition,
sadness and languor are preparing to frustrate
our hopes, and dissipate the enchantment:
nothing is perfect except for a moment;
nothing is durable but change; it is necessary
then to have interest in with those immutable
ideas which are not the work of
man, which do not depend on a transient
opinion: they are offered to all, and are
equally useful in the moment of triumph
and the day of defeat; they are, as we need
them, our consolation, our encouragement,
and our guide. What strength, what splendour,
those ideas would soon have, if, considered
as the best support of order and
morality, men would try to render them
more efficacious, in the same manner as we
see the citizens of a political society concur,
in proportion to their faculties, to promote
the welfare of the state. A new scene
would open before us; men of learning, far
449from following the counsels of vanity, far
from searching to destroy the most salutary
belief of men, would, on the contrary, allot
for their defence a portion of their noblest
powers; we should see the penetrating
metaphysician eager to refer to the common
treasure of our hopes, the light which
he perceives through the continuity of his
meditations, and the perspicacity of his
mind: we should see the attentive observer
of nature occupied with the same idea, animated
by the same interest; we should see
him, in the midst of his labours, seize with
avidity every thing which could add any
support to the first principle of all religions;
we should see him detach from his discoveries,
appropriate, with a kind of love, all that tended
to strengthen the happiest persuasion and
most sublime of thoughts. The profound moralist,
the philosophic legislator, would concur
in the same design; and in such a grand
enterprize, men, merely endowed with an
ardent imagination, would be like those
wanderers, who, when they return home,
450talk of some unknown riches. There are
ways in the moral, as well as in the physical
world, which lead to unknown secrets;
and the harvest which may be gathered
in the vast empire of nature is as extensive
as diversified. How excellent would
be the union of every mind towards this
magnificent end! In this view, I represent
sometimes to myself, with respect, a
society of men distinguished by their character
and genius, only employed to receive
and place in order the ideas proper
to augment our confidence in the
most precious opinion. There are thoughts
conceived by solitary men which are lost to
mankind, because they have not had the talent
to connect a system; and if those
thoughts were to be united to some other
knowledge, if they were to come like a grain
of sand, to strengthen the banks raised on
our shore, the following generations would
transmit a richer heritage. We sometimes register
with pomp a new word, introduced into
the language, and men of the most exalted
genius of the age are called to be present at
451that ceremony: would it not be a more
noble enterprize to examine, to choose, and
consecrate the ideas or observations proper to
enlighten us in our most essential researches?
One of those researches would better deserve
a wreath, than any work of eloquence or
literature.
Let us suppose, for a moment, that in
the most ancient empire of the world there
might have been priests, from time immemorial,
who guarded the deposit of all
the original ideas which served to support
the opinion of the existence of a God,
and the sentiment of the immortality of
the soul; and that, from time to time,
every new discovery, calculated to increase
the confidence due to these most necessary
truths, was inscribed in a religious testament,
called the book of happiness and
hope; how highly should we value it, and
how eagerly desire to be acquainted with
it; and with what respect should we approach
the ancient temple, in which those
superb archives were deposited. But, on
the contrary, could we imagine another retreat,
452where subtle arguments and artificial
discourses were collected, by which some
endeavour to destroy or shake those holy
opinions which unite the universe to an intelligent
thought, to a sublime wisdom; and
the fate of men to infinite goodness, who
amongst us would wish to enter into that
dark abode? who would wish to explore
that fatal register? Let us learn to know
our nature better, and through the delirium
of our blind passions discover its wants: it
is a God we feel the want of, a God, such as
religion presents; a God, powerful and
good, the first source of happiness, and who
only can secure it to the human race: let
us open all our faculties to that splendid
light, that our hearts and minds may welcome
it, and find pleasure in widely diffusing
it. Let us be penetrated in our
youth, by the only idea ever necessary to
our peace: let us strengthen it when
in our full vigour, that it may support
us in the decline of life. Ravishing
beauties of the universe, what would ye be
to us without this thought? Majestic power
453of the human mind, astonishing wonders of
the thinking faculty, what could it represent
if we separated it from its noble origin?
Souls affectionate and impassioned,
what would become of you without hope?
Pardon, O Master of the world, if not sufficiently
sensible of my own weakness, and
abandoning myself only to the emotions of
my heart, I have undertaken to speak to
men of Thy existence, Thy grandeur, and
Thy goodness! Pardon me if, lately agitated
by the tumultuous waves of passion, I dare
to raise my thoughts to the realms of eternal
peace, where Thou more particularly exhibits
Thy glory and sovereign power. Ah!
I know more than ever that we must love
Thee, we must serve Thee. The powerful
of the earth exalt and depress their favourites
capriciously; there is no relying on them;
after profiting by the talents devoted to
them, they forsake the victim, or crush him
like a reed. There is in the universe but
one immutable justice, but one perfect
goodness and consolatory thought: yet we
go continually towards other coasts, where
454we call for happiness, but it is not to be
found: there are phantoms accustomed to
deceive men, who answer when they call:
we run towards them, and pursue them,
and we leave far behind religious opinions,
which only can lead us back to nature,
and elevate us to its author. The blind
passions of the world, and the devouring
desires of fame and fortune, only serve to
harden us; every thing is selfish and hostile
in them. Ambitious men, who only
wish for a vain name, a childish triumph,
acknowledge your features in this sketch;
a single object engrosses you, a single end
fixes your views: the heavens may be obscured;
the earth covered with darkness; and
the future annihilated before you; and
you are satisfied if a weak taper still permits
you to discern the homage of those who
surround you; but how is it possible to expect
thus to pass a whole life? how be able
to retain that homage which appears so necessary
to your dream of happiness? how
can you make stationary what so many
concur to demand? We have a more rational
455certainty of happiness, when a sentiment
of piety, enlightened in its principle
and action, softens all our passions, and
bends them, in some measure, to the laws
of our destiny. Piety, such as I form an idea
of, may be properly represented as a vigilant
friend, tender and rational. It lets us see
the various blessings of life; but it recals
us to the idea of gratitude, in order to augment
our happiness, by referring it to the
most generous of all benefactors: it allows
us to exercise our faculties and talents; but
recals us to the idea of morality and virtue,
in order to assure our steps, and shield us
from regret: it allows us to run the race
of glory or ambition; but recals us to the
idea of inconstancy and instability, to preserve
us from a fatal intoxication: it is always
with us, not to disturb our felicity, not
to impose useless privations, but to blend itself
with our thoughts, and to unite to all
our projects those mild and peaceable ideas
which attend wisdom and moderation: in
short, in the day of adversity, when our
strength is broken, in which we have placed
456our confidence, piety comes to succour and
console us; it shows us the nothingness of
vanity and worldly illusions; it calms the
remorse of our souls, by reminding us of a
particular providence; it softens our regrets,
by presenting more worthy hopes than any
earthly object can afford, in order to engage
our interest and fix our attention.
I am not led to these reflections by a temporary
melancholy; I should be afraid of it, if I
had not always had the same thoughts, and
if the various circumstances of a life, often
perturbed, had not led me to think of the
necessity of attaching myself to some principle
independent of men and events. Almost
entirely alone at this instant, and
thrown into solitude by an unforeseen accident,
I experience, it is true[10], more than
ever, the want of those rational ideas, the
representations of all that is great, and I
approach with renewed interest the truths
which I always loved; grand and sublime
truths, which I have recommended to men
at the moment when I see them more than
457ever inclined to neglect them. How mistaken
are they in their calculations, they
trust to-day in the strength of their minds,
to-morrow they will find their weakness;
they imagine, that in turning their views
from the termination of life they remove the
fatal boundary; but already the hand trembles
on the dial to give the signal of their
last moment. What a dire sacrifice we
should make, if we gave up those consoling
truths which still present to us a future,
when all the bustle of life is over! We
should again demand them, search for them
with the most diligent anxiety, if ever the
traces of them were unfortunately effaced.
All these ideas, some may say, are vague,
and do not agree with the humour of the
age; but at a certain distance from the field
of ambition and vanity, is there any thing
to every one of us more vague than the
passions of others? Are men employed about
our interest? do they dream of our happiness?
No, they are like ourselves; they seek
for precedency; now and then indeed they
458pronounce the name of public good; but
it is only a watch word which they have
stolen, to be able to run over our ranks
without danger. Where shall we find then
a real tie? Where shall we find a universal
rendezvous, if not in those unalterable ideas
which are so consonant to our nature, which
should equally interest us all, being suited
to all without distinction; and which are
ready to welcome us when we see the folly
of earthly pursuits? They may not, indeed,
gratify the childish wishes of the moment;
but they relieve our anxiety about to-morrow,
they are allied to objects of meditation
which belong to our whole life, and
above all, they unite us to that spirit which
constitutes our true grandeur, to that sublime
spirit, a few of whose relations only are yet
discovered by us, and the full extent of
whose power and goodness can be but faintly
guessed at by finite beings.
FINIS.
459I was engrossed by the last Cares which
the Publication of this Book occasioned, when
M. deCalonne’sSecond Memorial made
its Appearance. I have read it; and I
here publicly engage to answer this new
Attack, and fully to support the Credit
which is justly due to the Account I presented
to the King in 1781.
NECKER.
1. Thesis proposed by the French Academy, with
a prize, for the best Catechism of Morals, the instructions
of which were to be founded on the principles of
natural right only.
2. I should have enlarged this chapter, if I did not
intend to make some general reflections on intolerance
in another part of this work.
3. These various reflections are very necessary in the
place where I live; since, for a short time, labourers
have been permitted to work, at Paris, of a Sunday.
We see this publicly done at the new bridge, which is
building over the Seine, as if a work of mere convenience
was in such haste, that the laws should be dispensed
with to accelerate its execution. The labourers,
some will say, are glad to gain a day every week.
Undoubtedly, because they see only the present instant,
they have reason to think so; but it is the duty of government
to consider, in a more comprehensive point of
view, the interest of the people, of that part of society,
which is so blind, or so limited in its calculation; and
the church should examine also, if the sudden alteration
of a practice so ancient, may not give rise to an idea,
that the spirit of religion is grown feeble. For the nations
where this spirit is best preserved, have the greatest
respect for the Sabbath.
5. Some say, in order to weaken this argument, that
we may attribute to the indivisible unit all the qualities
of matter, that a round body is really divisible, but that
roundness and impenetrability are not. Such an objection
is evidently not just. Roundness and impenetrability
are only qualities, and these qualities, when
merely abstract, are necessarily invariable: thus, it is
as impossible to divide it, as it is to multiply and increase
it; but my soul, my thoughts, the consciousness
that I have of my own existence, forms a particular
and personal being; and if it were of the same nature
as matter, ought to be equally divisible.
6. I shall present some reflections on this truth in
another Chapter.
8. It may be said, that the fifty thousand new stars
perceived by Dr. Herschel, being the result of observation
directed to the milky-way, we are not to expect
to discover as great a number in other parts of the
heavens of a like extent; but independent of these
stars which Dr. H. clearly distinguished, he imagined
that there were twice as many more of which he had
only an instantaneous glance. See the Philosophical
Transactions of the Royal Society, 1774. Dr. H.
has probably, since that time, made new discoveries;
but they have not reached me: I find, in the Transactions
of the Royal Society, of which he is a member,
that he considers the new telescope as being still in its infancy;
these are his own words.
9. I think I perceive the traces of these philosophical
ideas in the censure Jesus passed upon one of his disciples,
who called him good master. Why callest thou me
good? there is none good but one.