Part 13

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

CHAP. XII. _That there is a God._

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

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

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

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

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