Part 5

I shall conclude this part of my subject by one reflection more; supposing, even in the sovereign authority, an exertion sufficiently general to prevent or repress evil, religion would still have this great advantage, that it inculcates the beneficent virtues, which the laws cannot reach; and yet, in the actual state of society, it is become impossible to omit those virtues. It is not sufficient to be just, when the laws of property reduce to bare necessaries the most numerous class of men, whose weak resources the most trivial accident disconcerts; and I hesitate not to say, that such is the extreme inequality established by these laws, that we ought at present to consider the spirit of beneficence and forbearance, as constituting a part of social order; as in all places and times, it softens by its assistance the excess of wretchedness, and by an innumerable multitude of springs spreads itself as the vital juice, through forlorn beings, whom misery had almost exhausted. But if this spirit, properly intermediate between the rigour of civil rights, and the original title of humanity, did not exist, or should ever be extinct, we should see all the subordinate ties relax imperceptibly; and a man, loaded with the favours of fortune, never presenting himself to the people under the form of a benefactor; they would more forcibly feel the great extent of his privileges, and would accustom themselves to discuss them. Men must then find a way of moderating the despotism of fortune, or render homage to religion, which, by the sublime idea of an exchange between the blessings of heaven and earth, obliges the rich to give what the laws cannot demand.

Religion then comes continually to assist the civil legislation, it speaks a language unknown to the laws, it warms that sensibility which ought to advance even before reason; it acts like light and interior warmth, as it both enlightens and animates; and what we have not sufficiently observed, is, that in society its moral sentiments are the imperceptible tie of a number of parts, which seem to be held by their own agreement, and which would be successively detached, if the chain which united them was ever to be broken: we shall more clearly perceive this truth, in the examination we are going to make of the connexion of opinion with morality.

When we imagine we should be able to subject men to the observance of public order, and inspire them with the love of virtue, by motives independent of religion, we propose, undoubtedly, to put in action two powerful springs; the desire of esteem and praise; and the fear of contempt and shame. Thus, to follow my subject in all its branches, I ought necessarily to examine what is the degree of force of these different motives, and what is also their true application. I have already spoken, in other works of mine, of the opinion of the world, and of its salutary effects; but the subject I am now treating obliges me to consider it under a different point of view, and it is by placing myself behind the scene, that I shall be able to fulfil this task.

I remark, at first, that the opinion of the world exercises its influence in a very confined space, as it is particularly called in to judge men, whose rank and employments have some splendour in the world; the opinion of the public is an approbation or censure, exercised in the name of the general interest; thus it ought only to be applied to actions and to words, which either directly or indirectly affect this interest. The private conduct of him who discharges in society the most important functions, is indeed submitted to the judgment and superintendance of the public at large; and we ought not to wonder that it should, since in similar circumstances the principles of an individual appear an earnest, or presage of his public virtues; but all those, whose sole occupation is to spend their income, those who are entirely devoted to dissipation, and have not any connexion with the grand interests of the community, become independent of the opinion of the world; or at least they do not experience its severity, till, by foolish extravagance or inconsiderate pretentions, they draw the attention of the public on their conduct. In short, a great number of men, who, by the obscurity of their condition and moderate fortune, find themselves lost in a crowd, will never dread a power that singles out of the ranks its heroes and victims: thus people, concealed under humble roofs scattered in the country, are as indifferent to the opinion of the world, as are to the rays of the sun, those unhappy tribes who labour at the bottom of mines, and pass their whole lives in a dark subterraneous cavern.

We cannot then form any kind of comparison between the peculiar ascendency of reputation, and the general influence of religious morality.

Fame only recompenses rare actions; and would have nothing to bestow on a nation of heroes. Religion tends continually to render virtue common; but the universal success of its instructions would take away nothing from the value of its benefits.

In order to receive the rewards which fame bestows, men must appear with splendour on the stage of life. Religion, on the contrary, extends its most distinguished favours to those who despise praise, and who do good in secret.

The world almost always requires, that talents and knowledge should accompany virtue; and it is thus that the love of praise becomes the seed and spring of great actions. Religion never imposes this condition; its recompenses belong to the ignorant as well as the learned, to the humble spirit as well as to the exalted genius; and it is in animating equally all men, in exciting universal activity, that it effectually concurs to the maintenance of civil order.

The world, only judging of actions in their state of maturity, takes not any account of efforts; and, as men do not seize the palm till the moment when they approach the goal, it is necessary, at the commencement of the career, that every one should derive from his own force his courage and perseverance. Religion, on the contrary, if I may say so, dwells with us from the moment that we begin to think; it welcomes our intentions, strengthens our resolutions, and supports us even in the hour of temptation; it is, at all times, and in all situations, that we experience its influence, as we are continually reminded of its rewards.

Fame distributing only favours, whose principal value arises from comparisons and competitions, often draws on its favourites the envenomed breath of slander, and then sometimes they doubt about their real value. Religion mingles no bitterness with its reward; it is in obscurity that it confers content; and as it has treasures for all the world, what is granted to some never impoverishes others.

The world is often mistaken in its judgment, because in the midst of so vast a circle it is often difficult to distinguish true merit and the splendour which follows it, from the false colours of hypocrisy. Religion extends its influence to the inmost recesses of the heart, and places there an observer, who has a closer view of men than their actions afford, and whom they cannot either deceive or surprise.

In short, I will say it, there are moments when the opinion of the world loses its force, and becomes enervated or governed by a servile spirit, it searches to find faults in the oppressed, and attributes grand intentions to powerful men, that it may, without shame, abandon one, and celebrate the other. Ah! it is in such moments we return with delight to the precepts of religion, to those independent principles, which, while they illustrate every thing deserving of esteem or contempt, enable us to follow the dictates of our heart, and speak according to our conscience!

Thus, the opinion of the world, whose influence I have seen increase, which unites so many motives to excite men to distinguished actions, and to exalt them even to the great virtues, still ought never to be compared with the universal, invariable influence of religion, and with those sentiments which its precepts inspire men of all ages, of all conditions, and every degree of understanding.

Would it be straying from my subject, to remark here the illusion we are under, if we expect any important utility to arise from those marks of distinction lately introduced into France, under the name of public rewards for virtue? Those trivial favours of opinion can never be decreed but to a few dispersed actions; and it might be apprehended, that if we rendered such institutions permanent and general, they might turn the attention of the people at large from the grand recompense, which ought to be the spring and encouragement of all that is great and virtuous. Experienced hunters, at the moment when all the pack is still pursuing the most noble ranger of the forest, would not permit them to turn, to run after a prey which darted out of a lurking hole or thicket.

The establishments on which I here fix my attention, have, perhaps, also the inconvenience of rousing a sentiment of surprise at the appearance of a good action, and announcing thus too distinctly, that they believe them rare, and above the common exertions of humanity; and if we extended still further these institutions, they would only introduce a spirit of parade, always ready to languish, when applause was distant; and it would be a great misfortune, if such a spirit ever took place of simple and modest integrity, which receives from itself its motives and reward: virtue and vanity make a bad mixture; men are then accustomed only to act to be seen, and these opportunities, at present not very numerous, they wish to choose. There is besides a class of men so ill treated by fortune, that we should commit a great mistake in habituating them to connect continually calculations of probable rewards from men, with the practice of their duty; they would too often be deceived.

It is then, we cannot too often repeat it, it is respect for morality, which it is necessary to maintain, by strengthening religious principles, its most solid foundation; all other extraordinary helps derive their force from novelty; and at the period when society would have the greatest need of their succour, it would, perhaps, have arrived at its greatest depravity.

Thus far at present, I have considered the influence of opinion, only in general; but men manifest more in a private manner, the idea that they have conceived of each other; and this sentiment, which takes then the simple name of esteem, is connected with a determinate knowledge of the moral character of those with whom we have an habitual correspondence; esteem under this view, has not the splendour of reputation; but as every one can pretend to it in the circle where his birth and occupations have placed him, the hope of obtaining it ought to be reckoned among the grand motives which excite us to the observance of morality. However, if we supposed that this esteem was entirely separated from religious sentiments, it would be like many other advantages, which every one would estimate by his own fancy; for whatever comes solely from men, can only have a price relative to our connexion with them: thus the esteem of one, or of several persons, would not indemnify for such a sacrifice; and often also this sentiment, on their part, would appear inferior to some other objects, of ambition; in a word, from the moment every preference, every valuation was brought to a standard, each would insensibly have his own book of rates; and the justness of them would depend on the degree of judgment and foresight of every individual. But how can we imagine that perfection in morality would ever be secure, when it depended on wavering and arbitrary comparisons, whose foundation would be continually changed by the various circumstances and situations of life? The motives which religion presents are absolutely different; it is not by confused contrasts, that it directs men; it is a predominate interest to which they are recalled; it is round a beacon, of which the brilliant flames are seen on all sides, that they are assembled; in short the rules which it prescribes are not uncertain, and the advantages which it promises do not admit of an equivalent.

Let us further observe here, that selfishness, after having compared the enjoyment of esteem with pleasures of a different kind, would not fail to reckon the chances which afford a hope of imposing on men; and in the midst of these perplexed calculations, the passion of the moment would be almost always victorious. Besides, we might ask, what is the esteem of others, to that numerous class which misery makes solitary? And what is it but a sentiment, of which the effect is never obvious, to those whose view is limited to the present day, or the next, because they only live by instantaneous resources? All the advantages annexed to reputation are promisory notes, of which it is necessary to be able to wait the distant expiration; reflection and knowledge only acquaint us with their value; and the ignorance of the greater part of a nation would render them unequal to this kind of combination.

If then, after having taken a view of the lowest, I observe those who compose the superior class, I will venture a reflection of a very different kind; that in a country where we have the hope of obtaining the most splendid marks of distinction, and where fame has power to raise heroes, great ministers, and men of genius in every profession, we do not find that the duties of private life are best known and the most respected. Men, uniting to celebrate with ardour great talents and actions, consider with more indifference the morals and manners of individuals; they make an ideal beauty, composed of every thing which contributes to the celebrity of their country and the honour of their nation; but by accustoming themselves to refer every thing to these interests, they become extremely negligent with respect to common virtues, and sometimes they even decide, that the rare qualities of the mind may absolutely dispense with them. Besides, if fame can serve to reward the most assiduous labour and painful self-denial, it is far from being necessary, that moderate sentiments of esteem should indemnify those who obtain them for the sacrifice of their passions; it does not follow, that this sentiment should give them strength to resist the multiplied seductions that the hopes of ambition and the chances of fortune present to our view; and this consideration acquires more force in a kingdom, where, among the distinctions of which the favour of the prince is the origin, there are some which attract so much homage, that they resemble fame itself.

In short, and what I am going to say comprehends, in a general manner, the various questions which I have just treated: the esteem of men, even when this sentiment seems the most foreign to religion, receives, nevertheless, from it its principal strength, and even origin; it is a reflection of great importance, and of which I will endeavour to demonstrate the truth.

We ought, at first, to ask what is the original principle of society, which gives weight to the various expressions of the sentiment of esteem: we shall find, undoubtedly, that it is a distinct idea of the duties of men, a notion of good morals, as general as firm. Now the duties of life cannot be fulfilled without the assistance of religion, since the connexion of private and public interest, the only foundation of the virtues of our framing, is, as we have demonstrated an imperfect system, and susceptible of a multitude of exceptions, or arbitrary interpretations. It is necessary then that our social obligations should be fixed in an authentic manner, if we wish that our judgment and the sentiments which we adopt should be a real indication of the relation the conduct of men has with moral perfection; but, if this perfection was only determined by human conventions, if it was despoiled of the majesty which religion invests it with, reputation, and sentiments of esteem, which are the pledge and stamp of good morals, would insensibly lose their value; we should then recollect that coin, which some vainly wished to preserve the current value of in commerce, after having materially altered either the weight or the standard; and, in effect, to follow the simile a moment longer, how could we alter the essence of morality more, and lessen the respect which is due to it, than by separating it from the sublime motives which religion presents, to unite it only to political considerations.

One objection I ought to obviate: it may be said, perhaps, that the influence of honour in the army, seems to be a proof that reputation, without the aid of any other impulse, would have sufficient influence to direct the mind to the end which we propose to ourselves. This objection does not appear to me decisive: honour in armies preserves a great ascendency, because amongst men thus assembled, it is impossible to escape shame, and the punishment incurred by cowardice; it is in war that the power of authority and that of fame unite all their forces, because that they exercise their influence on men engaged in one action, actuated by the same spirit, by that singular subordination, termed discipline. Thus, when in the commencement of the Roman republic, the army participated more of the air of the city, and was not yet familiarized to the military yoke, it was then only through the sanction of an oath, supported by religious sentiments, that the general contrived to prevent the inconstancy and defection of those who followed him to the camp. Whatever then may be at present, the power of honour in armies, whatever at present may be its influence in the field of battle, where the actors, spectators, and judges, are on the same stage, and have nothing else to do but to practise, remark, and praise a particular virtue, we should not be able to draw any deduction from it, applicable to the social relations, whose extent is immense, and to whose diversity there is no bound. Besides, military honour is very far from being foreign to the general principles of morality, and consequently to religious opinions, the most solid support of those principles; for sentiments which contain, in some manner, the idea of a noble sacrifice, would lose great part of their force, if the great basis of our duty was ever shaken.

A perfect model is necessary to fix the admiration of men; and it is only by an intercourse more or less constant with that first model, that several opinions which seem, in appearance, to arise merely from convenience have consistency.

However, there has resulted from our warlike customs an opinion purely social, which is very powerful: it is that of the point of honour, when we consider it in its singular and simple acceptation, when a man is ready to sacrifice his life to guard himself from the slightest humiliation. This opinion, it is true, only dictates its rules among equals, and the exercise of its authority extends to an inconsiderable part of a nation, which, wholly given up to worldly concerns, are occupied entirely with comparisons and distinctions; it is one of the ancient appendages of military honour, and in uniting all its force towards a single idea it is become a simple principle, which has been blindly transmitted and as blindly respected.

It is by the effect of a similar habit that savages affix all their glory to a contempt of bodily pain, and to demonstrations of gaiety, in the midst of the most cruel torments. Can we doubt, that their supernatural exultation would not be weakened, at the very instant they were acquainted with our most common ideas of virtue? likewise our notions of honour, which, in its exaggerated state, resembles their death songs, would not resist metaphysical arguments, if ever metaphysics became our sole guide in morality; for after having analyzed the motives of our most important obligations, we should analyze also our fine-spun sentiment, which makes us regardless of danger. Yes, if respect for religion was absolutely destroyed; if this simple opinion, which carries with it so many obligations, and serves to defend so many duties, had no other support, the idea of honour would soon be weakened; and our personal interest, insensibly disengaged from all the ties of the imagination, would take a character so rude, and so determined, that our habitual impressions, and our relation with others, would be absolutely changed.

Permit me then to make another reflection: it will be always easy to subject men to a governing opinion, when they themselves, and those who govern them, unite al their efforts to attain the same end; but, if this governing opinion is not, like religion, the general principle of our conduct; if it cannot give us laws in the different situations of life, it would serve only to throw us out of an equilibrium, or at least its utility would be partial and momentary· Nevertheless, if, with a design of remedying this inconvenience, we searched to multiply these opinions, they would weaken each other; for every time we wish strongly to restrain the imagination, it is necessary that a single idea, a single authority, a single object of interest, should engage the attention of men. Perfection, in this respect, is the choice of a single principle, whose consequence extends to all; and such is the particular merit of religious opinions.

We can then, in the name of reason, of policy, and philosophy, demand some respect for them; and I ought to repeat, since it is time for me to resume my subject, that esteem or contempt, honour or shame, are so far from being able to supply the place of the active influence of religion, that its sentiments confirm the opinion of the world, and, more or less, obviously direct it. It follows, that we should soon reason shrewdly, on the value which we ought to set on the esteem of the world, if the expression of its approbation was not united in our contemplation to something more noble than the judgment of mankind, and if an awful respect for virtue was not imbibed by means of a religious education. We should soon experience that, in wishing to found every thing on the calculations of worldly wisdom, these same calculations would destroy all; and morality having at once lost its grand support, we should try in vain to prop it by a scaffold of laws, and the vain efforts of an opinion without a guide. Hypocrisy and dissimulation would become immediately a necessary science, a legitimate defence, which would weary the attention of every inspector; and testimonies of esteem appearing only an ingenious encouragement granted to the sacrifices of selfishness, the applause decreed to a generous mode of conduct would be insensibly discredited by those who gave and by those who received them, and would end, perhaps, in becoming a secret object of derision, as mere play from one to another.

Every thing is replaced and firmly established by religion; it surrounds, I may say, the whole system of morality, resembling that universal and mysterious force of physical nature, which retains the planets in their orbits, and subjects them to a regular revolution; and which, in the midst of the general order it maintains, escapes the observation of men, and appears to their feeble sight unconscious of its own work.

CHAP. III. _An Objection drawn from our natural Dispositions to Goodness._