Chapter 11 of 21 · 4000 words · ~20 min read

Part 11

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 equilibrium 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 all 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 step 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.

Physical 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 we 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 is 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 the 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.

I 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, an 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.

In 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.

I 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, are 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: we 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, would 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 foreseen 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 Being 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 which 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, and 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 discovered, 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 every 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, only 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 would 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 is entirely submitted to the government of our reason. Such a comparison would be sufficient to convince us, if we sought merely for the truth.