Chapter VII: Part 7

It may be also demonstrated, that the formation of worlds, by the chances of a blind motion, and their regular continuity of existence, are two propositions which disagree. Let us explain this idea. The play of atoms, necessary in order to produce the unformed masses of the heavenly bodies, being infinitely less complicated than that which is necessary to produce them, inhabited as they are with intelligent beings, must have happened long before the other. Thus, in the system of the composition of the universe, by the fortuitous concourse of atoms, it is necessary to suppose, that these atoms, after having been united to form the heavenly bodies, have been severed, and united again, as many times as was necessary, to produce a planet inhabited by intelligent beings. Since beings thus endowed add nothing to the stability of the world, since they do not contribute to the grand coalition of all its parts; why the same blind motion which has united, dissolved, and assembled so often every part of the earth, before it was composed, such as it is; why does it not produce some alteration now? It should again reduce to powder our world, or at least, let us perceive the commencement of some new form.

It is not only to a world inhabited by intelligent beings, that the arguments, just mentioned, may be applicable; for we perceive around us an innumerable multitude of beauties and features of harmony, which were not necessary to the preservation of our world, and which, according to every rule of probability, would never have existed, unless we supposed, that the earth has been formed, dissolved, and reproduced, an infinity of times, before having been composed such as we see it; but then I would ask, why there are no vestiges of those alterations, and why that motion has stopped?

It would be possible, however, by the assistance of a new supposition, to resolve the difficulty I have just mentioned; some may say, that the union, and the successive dispersion of the universal atoms, are executed in a space of time, so slow and insensible, that our observations, and all those which we have from tradition, cannot inform us whether there will not be a separation of all the parts of the universe, by the same causes which have occasioned their adhesion.

It is obvious, that transporting us into infinity and admitting such a series of arbitrary suppositions, they are not indeed exposed to any rational attacks; but, making equally free with infinity, in order to oppose nonsense to nonsense, why may I not be allowed to suppose, that in the infinite combinations arising from perpetual motion, men have been created, destroyed, and again called into being, with the same faculties, remembrances, thoughts, relations, and circumstances; and why each of us separated from our former existence, only by a sleep, whose duration is imperceptible, should not be in our own eyes immortal beings? Infinity permits the supposition of this absurd hypothesis, as it authorises every flight of the imagination in which time is reckoned for nothing. We see, however, how we risk running into error, when with our limited faculties we wish to subject the incomprehensible idea of infinity, and boldly adjust it to the combinations of finite beings.

Let us produce, however, another objection. It may be said, that our planet is the result of chance; but is not this chance improbable, if we suppose that there existed in the infinity of space, an infinite number of other assembled atoms, equally produced by the first throw of the dice, which represent all the possible forms, and imaginable proportions? And I would also ask, by what laws, all these irregular bodies, necessarily subject, by reason of their number and masses, to an infinity of movements, have not disconcerted the planetary system formed, at the same time as they were, by chance?

I ought to observe, above all, that the order which we are acquainted with, is a proof of universal order; for, in immensity, where one part is nothing compared with the whole, no part, without exception, could be preserved, unless it was in equilibrium with every other.

Thus, whether _an infinite succession of chances_ be supposed, to which the entire mass of atoms has been uniformly subject, or whether the first general throw is thought sufficient, but divided _into an infinity of different sections_, our reason opposes invincible difficulties to the result which some want to draw from these various systems.

In short, we must observe, that in order to understand the accidental formation of a world, such as we are at liberty to suppose, the eternal existence of every kind of organized and intelligent atoms, must have preceded the formation of that world. I must again observe, that when they are obliged to such wonderful first principles, and to admit, in the beginning, a nature so astonishing, we can scarcely conceive how they can make it act suddenly a foolish part, in order to finish the work of the universe: a more exalted supposition, would have prevented their drawing a conclusion, so absurd.

It seems to me, that notwithstanding the immensity which has given rise to so many ridiculous notions about the formation of the world, they have such a resemblance to each other, that we can scarcely discern any difference; and considering the little circle which the imagination runs over, when it applies its force to deep conceptions, we think we discover something supernatural in its singular weakness: the authors of these systems seem to have a slavish turn of thinking, and the marks of their chains are very visible; it is always atoms, and atoms that they make play together, either at different times, or all at once, in infinite space; but when some want to form ideas of liberty and will, as they do not know in what manner to analyze these properties, they suppose them pre-existing in the elementary parts, which they made use of to create their universe; and they prudently take care not to grant any action to liberty and will, in order to prevent any resistance to those notions on which they build their universe.

They would not render either more simple or credible, the blind production of worlds, by supposing not only innumerable multitude of organized atoms, but, even an infinite diversity of molds to hold the atoms, and of which force chemical analogy gives us an idea. Such a system, which might serve to explain a few secondary causes of our known nature, is not applicable to the first formation of beings; for with such an assemblage of molds and atoms, all the great difficulties would still subsist. In fact, how should the different molds have classed themselves properly, in order to form the most simple whole, but which beside required a fixed measure and gradation of ranks? The mold destined for the organized atoms, of which the crystalline is to be composed, how is it possible it should have placed itself in the centre of that mold which is to form the pupil of the eye, and this last on that one which is to form the whole, and so on, by an exact gradation, whose divisions and subdivisions are innumerable?

Were they to suppose an infinite succession of molds, of which the largest attracted the smallest, in the same manner as the molds attracted the atoms; this supposition, less ridiculous than any other, is not sufficient to model, even in imagination, the most unimportant phœnomena of nature; it is necessary, besides, that by the direction of a wise and powerful force, the molds, and the atoms which belong to them, set themselves in motion, without confusion; it is necessary that those destined to compose the exterior fibres should not obstruct the passage of those molds calculated to form the interior organs; in short, that every one of those in its course and expansion, should artfully observe those delicate shades which blend or separate all the parts of the simplest of nature’s works.

We are already acquainted with a force which acts in all directions, which disposes every thing in due order, tends towards an end, stops, begins again, and finishes, every moment, a complicated work; and this is the intelligent will, and certainly we have reason to be astonished, that the only faculty we have an intimate consciousness of, is the one philosopher’s turn from, when they investigate the admirable order of the universe.

I allow, that they may, at the same time they reject the idea of a God, admit, as a principle, the eternal existence of a mechanical force, which, by an incomprehensible necessity, directed, towards a wise end, every thing that was at first confusedly scattered in the immensity of space; but this new supposition would form an hypothesis similar to the system of the eternal existence of the universe; in fact, the eternal existence of all the elements, of all substances, forces, and properties which were necessary to produce a certain order of things, would be a phœnomenon as incomprehensible as the existence of that order itself.

We must add, that these two phœnomena would be separated in our thoughts only by an indivisible instant, an instant that we can neither describe nor imagine in the extent of the time represented by eternity; for any chosen period would be still too late by an infinity of ages. The necessary effect of an eternal cause has not, like that cause, any period to which we can fix its commencement.

We thus perceive, under another point of view, how vain and ridiculous are the fantastic operations, they imagine, before the existence of the world, and which are attributed sometimes to the disordered movements of chance, and sometimes to the regular laws of blind necessity.

There is then but one hypothesis to be opposed to the idea of a God: it is the system of the eternal existence of the universe. Such an atheistical system will always be more easily defended than any other, because that being founded on a supposition without bounds, it does not require to be embraced by reasoning, like all the hypothetical ideas, by which men make nature act according to an order of their own invention. We will, in the next chapter, consider this system, and discuss it by every means in our power.

CHAP. XIV.
_The same Subject continued._

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.