Of the importance of religious opinions

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 degrees 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 conceive 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. It 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 we 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 reflections 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 much 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 the 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 the 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 my 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 design; 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 us 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 see 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, given 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 away, 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 raise 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 never 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 applicable 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 and 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 vegetable 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 strength 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? Facts 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 the 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 imperceptible 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 only 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 the 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 a 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 successful 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 result 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 all 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. It 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 idea 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.

I 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.

In 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 obliged, 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 are 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 see 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 of 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 more 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 to 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 only 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. A 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, when 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 with 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 against 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; but 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 most 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, which 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 resembles 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 goodness, 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 so 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 vapour 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 arrived 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 estimation 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 incredulity. 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.

I 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.

When 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 country 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 should 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 the 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 principles 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 His 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 may 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?

How 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 mystery 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 dissipated, 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.