107. Hitherto I have devoted myself to giving a full and clear exposition
of this whole subject: and although I have not yet spoken of M. Bayle's
objections in particular, I have endeavoured to anticipate them, and to
suggest ways of answering them. But as I have taken upon myself the task of
meeting them in detail, not only because there will perhaps still be
passages calling for elucidation, but also because his arguments are
usually full of wit and erudition, and serve to throw greater light on this
controversy, it will be well to give an account of the chief objections
that are dispersed through his works, and to add my answers. At the
beginning I observed 'that God co-operates in moral evil, and in physical
evil, and in each of them both morally and physically; and that man
co-operates therein also morally and physically in a free and active way,
becoming in consequence subject to blame and punishment'. I have shown also
that each point has its own difficulty; but the greatest of these lies in
maintaining that God co-operates morally in moral evil, that is, in sin,
without being the originator of the sin, and even without being accessary
thereto.
108. He does this by _permitting_ it justly, and by _directing_ it wisely
towards the good, as I have shown in a manner that appears tolerably
intelligible. But as it is here principally that M. Bayle undertakes [183]
to discomfit those who maintain that there is nothing in faith which cannot
be harmonized with reason, it is also here especially I must show that my
dogmas are fortified (to make use of his own allegory) with a rampart, even
of reasons, which is able to resist the fire of his strongest batteries. He
has ranged them against me in chapter 144 of his _Reply to the Questions of
a Provincial_ (vol. III, p. 812), where he includes the theological
doctrine in seven propositions and opposes thereto nineteen philosophic
maxims, like so many large cannon capable of breaching my rampart. Let us
begin with the theological propositions.
109. I. 'God,' he says, 'the Being eternal and necessary, infinitely good,
holy, wise and powerful, possesses from all eternity a glory and a bliss
that can never either increase or diminish.' This proposition of M. Bayle's
is no less philosophical than theological. To say that God possesses a
'glory' when he is alone, that depends upon the meaning of the term. One
may say, with some, that glory is the satisfaction one finds in being aware
of one's own perfections; and in this sense God possesses it always. But
when glory signifies that others become aware of these perfections, one may
say that God acquires it only when he reveals himself to intelligent
creatures; even though it be true that God thereby gains no new good, and
it is rather the rational creatures who thence derive advantage, when they
apprehend aright the glory of God.
110. II. 'He resolved freely upon the production of creatures, and he chose
from among an infinite number of possible beings those whom it pleased him
to choose, to give them existence, and to compose the universe of them,
while he left all the rest in nothingness.' This proposition is also, just
like the preceding one, in close conformity with that part of philosophy
which is called natural theology. One must dwell a little on what is said
here, that he chose the possible beings 'whom it pleased him to choose'.
For it must be borne in mind that when I say, 'that pleases me', it is as
though I were saying, 'I find it good'. Thus it is the ideal goodness of
the object which pleases, and which makes me choose it among many others
which do not please or which please less, that is to say, which contain
less of that goodness which moves me. Now it is only the genuinely good
that is capable of pleasing God: and consequently that which pleases God
most, and which meets his choice, is the best.
[184]
111. III. 'Human nature having been among the Beings that he willed to
produce, he created a man and a woman, and granted them amongst other
favours free will, so that they had the power to obey him; but he
threatened them with death if they should disobey the order that he gave
them to abstain from a certain fruit.' This proposition is in part
revealed, and should be admitted without difficulty, provided that _free
will_ be understood properly, according to the explanation I have given.
112. IV. 'They ate thereof nevertheless, and thenceforth they were
condemned, they and all their posterity, to the miseries of this life, to
temporal death and eternal damnation, and made subject to such a tendency
to sin that they abandoned themselves thereto endlessly and without
ceasing.' There is reason to suppose that the forbidden action by itself
entailed these evil results in accordance with a natural effect, and that
it was for that very reason, and not by a purely arbitrary decree, that God
had forbidden it: much as one forbids knives to children. The famous Fludde
or de Fluctibus, an Englishman, once wrote a book _De Vita, Morte et
Resurrectione_ under the name of R. Otreb, wherein he maintained that the
fruit of the forbidden tree was a poison: but we cannot enter into this
detail. It suffices that God forbade a harmful thing; one must not
therefore suppose that God acted here simply in the character of a
legislator who enacts a purely positive law, or of a judge who imposes and
inflicts a punishment by an order of his will, without any connexion
between the evil of guilt and the evil of punishment. And it is not
necessary to suppose that God in justifiable annoyance deliberately put a
corruption in the soul and the body of man, by an extraordinary action, in
order to punish him: much as the Athenians gave hemlock-juice to their
criminals. M. Bayle takes the matter thus: he speaks as if the original
corruption had been put in the soul of the first man by an order and
operation of God. It is that which calls forth his objection (_Reply to the
Questions of a Provincial_, vol. III, ch. 178, p. 1218) 'that reason would
not commend the monarch who, in order to chastise a rebel, condemned him
and his descendants to have a tendency towards rebellion'. But this
chastisement happens naturally to the wicked, without any ordinance of a
legislator, and they become addicted to evil. If drunkards begot children
inclined to the same vice, by a natural consequence of what takes place in
bodies, that would be a punishment of their progenitors, but it would [185]
not be a penalty of law. There is something comparable to this in the
consequences of the first man's sin. For the contemplation of divine wisdom
leads us to believe that the realm of nature serves that of grace; and that
God as an Architect has done all in a manner befitting God considered as a
Monarch. We do not sufficiently know the nature of the forbidden fruit, or
that of the action, or its effects, to judge of the details of this matter:
nevertheless we must do God justice so far as to believe that it comprised
something other than what painters depict for us.
113. V. 'It has pleased him by his infinite mercy to deliver a very few men
from this condemnation; and, leaving them exposed during this life to the
corruption of sin and misery, he has given them aids which enable them to
obtain the never-ending bliss of paradise.' Many in the past have doubted,
as I have already observed, whether the number of the damned is so great as
is generally supposed; and it appears that they believed in the existence
of some intermediate state between eternal damnation and perfect bliss. But
we have no need of these opinions, and it is enough to keep to the ideas
accepted in the Church. In this connexion it is well to observe that this
proposition of M. Bayle's is conceived in accordance with the principles of
sufficient grace, given to all men, and sufficing them provided that they
have good will. Although M. Bayle holds the opposite opinion, he wished (as
he states in the margin) to avoid the terms that would not agree with a
system of decrees subsequent to the prevision of contingent events.
114. VI. 'He foresaw from eternity all that which should happen, he ordered
all things and placed them each one in its own place, and he guides and
controls them continually, according to his pleasure. Thus nothing is done
without his permission or against his will, and he can prevent, as seems
good to him, as much and as often as seems good to him, all that does not
please him, and in consequence sin, which is the thing in the world that
most offends him and that he most detests; and he can produce in each human
soul all the thoughts that he approves.' This thesis is also purely
philosophic, that is, recognizable by the light of natural reason. It is
opportune also, as one has dwelt in thesis II on _that which pleases_, to
dwell here upon _that which seems good_, that is, upon that which God finds
good to do. He can avoid or put away as 'seems good to him' all 'that does
not please him'. Nevertheless it must be borne in mind that some objects of
his aversion, such as certain evils, and especially sin, which his [186]
antecedent will repelled, could only have been rejected by his consequent
or decretory will, in so far as it was prompted by the rule of the best,
which the All-wise must choose after having taken all into account. When
one says 'that sin offends God most, and that he detests it most', these
are human ways of speaking. God cannot, properly speaking, be _offended_,
that is, injured, disturbed, disquieted or angered; and he _detests_
nothing of that which exists, in the sense that to detest something is to
look upon it with abomination and in a way that causes us disgust, that
greatly pains and distresses us; for God cannot suffer either vexation, or
grief or discomfort; he is always altogether content and at ease. Yet these
expressions in their true sense are justified. The supreme goodness of God
causes his antecedent will to repel all evil, but moral evil more than any
other: it only admits evil at all for irresistible superior reasons, and
with great correctives which repair its ill effects to good advantage. It
is true also that God could produce in each human soul all the thoughts
that he approves: but this would be to act by miracles, more than his most
perfectly conceived plan admits.
115. VII. 'He offers grace to people that he knows are destined not to
accept it, and so destined by this refusal to make themselves more criminal
than they would be if he had not offered them that grace; he assures them
that it is his ardent wish that they accept it, and he does not give them
the grace which he knows they would accept.' It is true that these people
become more criminal through their refusal than if one had offered them
nothing, and that God knows this. Yet it is better to permit their crime
than to act in a way which would render God himself blameworthy, and
provide the criminals with some justification for the complaint that it was
not possible for them to do better, even though they had or might have
wished it. God desires that they receive such grace from him as they are
fit to receive, and that they accept it; and he desires to give them in
particular that grace whose acceptance by them he foresees: but it is
always by a will antecedent, detached or particular, which cannot always be
carried out in the general plan of things. This thesis also is among the
number of those which philosophy establishes no less than revelation, like
three others of the seven that we have just stated here, the third, fourth
and fifth being the only ones where revelation is necessary.
[187]
116. Here now are the nineteen philosophic maxims which M. Bayle opposes to
the seven theological propositions.
I. 'As the infinitely perfect Being finds in himself a glory and a bliss
that can never either diminish or increase, his goodness alone has
determined him to create this universe: neither the ambition to be praised,
nor any interested motive of preserving or augmenting his bliss and his
glory, has had any part therein.' This maxim is very good: praises of God
do him no service, but they are of service to the men who praise him, and
he desired their good. Nevertheless, when one says that _goodness_ alone
determined God to create this universe, it is well to add that his GOODNESS
prompted him _antecedently_ to create and to produce all possible good; but
that his WISDOM made the choice and caused him to select the best
_consequently_; and finally that his POWER gave him the means to carry out
_actually_ the great design which he had formed.
117. II. 'The goodness of the infinitely perfect Being is infinite, and
would not be infinite if one could conceive of a goodness greater than
this. This characteristic of infinity is proper also to all his other
perfections, to love of virtue, hatred of vice, etc., they must be the
greatest one can imagine. (See M. Jurieu in the first three sections of the
_Judgement on Methods_, where he argues constantly upon this principle, as
upon a primary notion. See also in Wittich, _De Providentia Dei_, n. 12,
these words of St. Augustine, lib. I, _De Doctrina Christiana_, c. 7: "Cum
cogitatur Deus, ita cogitatur, ut aliquid, quo nihil melius sit atque
sublimius. Et paulo post: Nec quisquam inveniri potest, qui hoc Deum credat
esse, quo melius aliquid est.")'
This maxim is altogether to my liking, and I draw from it this conclusion,
that God does the very best possible: otherwise the exercise of his
goodness would be restricted, and that would be restricting his _goodness_
itself, if it did not prompt him to the best, if he were lacking in good
will. Or again it would be restricting his _wisdom_ and his _power_, if he
lacked the knowledge necessary for discerning the best and for finding the
means to obtain it, or if he lacked the strength necessary for employing
these means. There is, however, ambiguity in the assertion that love of
virtue and hatred of vice are infinite in God: if that were absolutely and
unreservedly true, in practice there would be no vice in the world. But
although each one of God's perfections is infinite in itself, it is
exercised only in proportion to the object and as the nature of things
prompts it. Thus love of the best in the whole carries the day over [188]
all other individual inclinations or hatreds; it is the only impulse whose
very exercise is absolutely infinite, nothing having power to prevent God
from declaring himself for the best; and some vice being combined with the
best possible plan, God permits it.
118. III. 'An infinite goodness having guided the Creator in the production
of the world, all the characteristics of knowledge, skill, power and
greatness that are displayed in his work are destined for the happiness of
intelligent creatures. He wished to show forth his perfections only to the
end that creatures of this kind should find their felicity in the
knowledge, the admiration and the love of the Supreme Being.'
This maxim appears to me not sufficiently exact. I grant that the happiness
of intelligent creatures is the principal part of God's design, for they
are most like him; but nevertheless I do not see how one can prove that to
be his sole aim. It is true that the realm of nature must serve the realm
of grace: but, since all is connected in God's great design, we must
believe that the realm of grace is also in some way adapted to that of
nature, so that nature preserves the utmost order and beauty, to render the
combination of the two the most perfect that can be. And there is no reason
to suppose that God, for the sake of some lessening of moral evil, would
reverse the whole order of nature. Each perfection or imperfection in the
creature has its value, but there is none that has an infinite value. Thus
the moral or physical good and evil of rational creatures does not
infinitely exceed the good and evil which is simply metaphysical, namely
that which lies in the perfection of the other creatures; and yet one would
be bound to say this if the present maxim were strictly true. When God
justified to the Prophet Jonah the pardon that he had granted to the
inhabitants of Nineveh, he even touched upon the interest of the beasts who
would have been involved in the ruin of this great city. No substance is
absolutely contemptible or absolutely precious before God. And the abuse or
the exaggerated extension of the present maxim appears to be in part the
source of the difficulties that M. Bayle puts forward. It is certain that
God sets greater store by a man than a lion; nevertheless it can hardly be
said with certainty that God prefers a single man in all respects to the
whole of lion-kind. Even should that be so, it would by no means follow
that the interest of a certain number of men would prevail over the [189]
consideration of a general disorder diffused through an infinite number of
creatures. This opinion would be a remnant of the old and somewhat
discredited maxim, that all is made solely for man.
119. IV. 'The benefits he imparts to the creatures that are capable of
felicity tend only to their happiness. He therefore does not permit that
these should serve to make them unhappy, and, if the wrong use that they
made of them were capable of destroying them, he would give them sure means
of always using them well. Otherwise they would not be true benefits, and
his goodness would be smaller than that we can conceive of in another
benefactor. (I mean, in a Cause that united with its gifts the sure skill
to make good use of them.)'
There already is the abuse or the ill effect of the preceding maxim. It is
not strictly true (though it appear plausible) that the benefits God
imparts to the creatures who are capable of felicity tend solely to their
happiness. All is connected in Nature; and if a skilled artisan, an
engineer, an architect, a wise politician often makes one and the same
thing serve several ends, if he makes a double hit with a single throw,
when that can be done conveniently, one may say that God, whose wisdom and
power are perfect, does so always. That is husbanding the ground, the time,
the place, the material, which make up as it were his outlay. Thus God has
more than one purpose in his projects. The felicity of all rational
creatures is one of the aims he has in view; but it is not his whole aim,
nor even his final aim. Therefore it happens that the unhappiness of some
of these creatures may come about _by concomitance_, and as a result of
other greater goods: this I have already explained, and M. Bayle has to
some extent acknowledged it. The goods as such, considered in themselves,
are the object of the antecedent will of God. God will produce as much
reason and knowledge in the universe as his plan can admit. One can
conceive of a mean between an antecedent will altogether pure and
primitive, and a consequent and final will. The _primitive antecedent will_
has as its object each good and each evil in itself, detached from all
combination, and tends to advance the good and prevent the evil. The
_mediate will_ relates to combinations, as when one attaches a good to an
evil: then the will will have some tendency towards this combination when
the good exceeds the evil therein. But the _final and decisive will_
results from consideration of all the goods and all the evils that enter
into our deliberation, it results from a total combination. This shows[190]
that a mediate will, although it may in a sense pass as consequent in
relation to a pure and primitive antecedent will, must be considered
antecedent in relation to the final and decretory will. God gives reason to
the human race; misfortunes arise thence by concomitance. His pure
antecedent will tends towards giving reason, as a great good, and
preventing the evils in question. But when it is a question of the evils
that accompany this gift which God has made to us of reason, the compound,
made up of the combination of reason and of these evils, will be the object
of a mediate will of God, which will tend towards producing or preventing
this compound, according as the good or the evil prevails therein. But even
though it should prove that reason did more harm than good to men (which,
however, I do not admit), whereupon the mediate will of God would discard
it with all its concomitants, it might still be the case that it was more
in accordance with the perfection of the universe to give reason to men,
notwithstanding all the evil consequences which it might have with
reference to them. Consequently, the final will or the decree of God,
resulting from all the considerations he can have, would be to give it to
them. And, far from being subject to blame for this, he would be
blameworthy if he did not so. Thus the evil, or the mixture of goods and
evils wherein the evil prevails, happens only _by concomitance_, because it
is connected with greater goods that are outside this mixture. This
mixture, therefore, or this compound, is not to be conceived as a grace or
as a gift from God to us; but the good that is found mingled therein will
nevertheless be good. Such is God's gift of reason to those who make ill
use thereof. It is always a good in itself; but the combination of this
good with the evils that proceed from its abuse is not a good with regard
to those who in consequence thereof become unhappy. Yet it comes to be by
concomitance, because it serves a greater good in relation to the universe.
And it is doubtless that which prompted God to give reason to those who
have made it an instrument of their unhappiness. Or, to put it more
precisely, in accordance with my system God, having found among the
possible beings some rational creatures who misuse their reason, gave
existence to those who are included in the best possible plan of the
universe. Thus nothing prevents us from admitting that God grants goods
which turn into evil by the fault of men, this often happening to men in
just punishment of the misuse they had made of God's grace. Aloysius [191]
Novarinus wrote a book _De Occultis Dei Beneficiis_: one could write one
_De Occultis Dei Poenis_. This saying of Claudian would be in place here
with regard to some persons:
_Tolluntur in altum,_ _Ut lapsu graviore ruant_.
But to say that God should not give a good which he knows an evil will will
abuse, when the general plan of things demands that he give it; or again to
say that he should give certain means for preventing it, contrary to this
same general order: that is to wish (as I have observed already) that God
himself become blameworthy in order to prevent man from being so. To
object, as people do here, that the goodness of God would be smaller than
that of another benefactor who would give a more useful gift, is to
overlook the fact that the goodness of a benefactor is not measured by a
single benefit. It may well be that a gift from a private person is greater
than one from a prince, but the gifts of this private person all taken
together will be much inferior to the prince's gifts all together. Thus one
can esteem fittingly the good things done by God only when one considers
their whole extent by relating them to the entire universe. Moreover, one
may say that the gifts given in the expectation that they will harm are the
gifts of an enemy, [Greek: hechthrôn dôra adôra],
_Hostibus eveniant talia dona meis._
But that applies to when there is malice or guilt in him who gives them, as
there was in that Eutrapelus of whom Horace speaks, who did good to people
in order to give them the means of destroying themselves. His design was
evil, but God's design cannot be better than it is. Must God spoil his
system, must there be less beauty, perfection and reason in the universe,
because there are people who misuse reason? The common sayings are in place
here: _Abusus non tollit usum_; there is _scandalum datum et scandalum
acceptum_.
120. V. 'A maleficent being is very capable of heaping magnificent gifts
upon his enemies, when he knows that they will make thereof a use that will
destroy them. It therefore does not beseem the infinitely good Being to
give to creatures a free will, whereof, as he knows for certain, they would
make a use that would render them unhappy. Therefore if he gives them free
will he combines with it the art of using it always opportunely, and
permits not that they neglect the practice of this art in any [192]
conjuncture; and if there were no sure means of determining the good use of
this free will, he would rather take from them this faculty, than allow it
to be the cause of their unhappiness. That is the more manifest, as free
will is a grace which he has given them of his own choice and without their
asking for it; so that he would be more answerable for the unhappiness it
would bring upon them than if he had only granted it in response to their
importunate prayers.'
What was said at the end of the remark on the preceding maxim ought to be
repeated here, and is sufficient to counter the present maxim. Moreover,
the author is still presupposing that false maxim advanced as the third,
stating that the happiness of rational creatures is the sole aim of God. If
that were so, perhaps neither sin nor unhappiness would ever occur, even by
concomitance. God would have chosen a sequence of possibles where all these
evils would be excluded. But God would fail in what is due to the universe,
that is, in what he owes to himself. If there were only spirits they would
be without the required connexion, without the order of time and place.
This order demands matter, movement and its laws; to adjust these to
spirits in the best possible way means to return to our world. When one
looks at things only in the mass, one imagines to be practicable a thousand
things that cannot properly take place. To wish that God should not give
free will to rational creatures is to wish that there be none of these
creatures; and to wish that God should prevent them from misusing it is to
wish that there be none but these creatures alone, together with what was
made for them only. If God had none but these creatures in view, he would
doubtless prevent them from destroying themselves. One may say in a sense,
however, that God has given to these creatures the art of always making
good use of their free will, for the natural light of reason is this art.
But it would be necessary always to have the will to do good, and often
creatures lack the means of giving themselves the will they ought to have;
often they even lack the will to use those means which indirectly give a
good will. Of this I have already spoken more than once. This fault must be
admitted, and one must even acknowledge that God would perhaps have been
able to exempt creatures from that fault, since there is nothing to
prevent, so it seems, the existence of some whose nature it would be always
to have good will. But I reply that it is not necessary, and that it was
not feasible for all rational creatures to have so great a perfection,[193]
and such as would bring them so close to the Divinity. It may even be that
that can only be made possible by a special divine grace. But in this case,
would it be proper for God to grant it to all, that is, always to act
miraculously in respect of all rational creatures? Nothing would be less
rational than these perpetual miracles. There are degrees among creatures:
the general order requires it. And it appears quite consistent with the
order of divine government that the great privilege of strengthening in the
good should be granted more easily to those who had a good will when they
were in a more imperfect state, in the state of struggle and of pilgrimage,
_in Ecclesia militante, in statu viatorum_. The good angels themselves were
not created incapable of sin. Nevertheless I would not dare to assert that
there are no blessed creatures born, or such as are sinless and holy by
their nature. There are perhaps people who give this privilege to the
Blessed Virgin, since, moreover, the Roman Church to-day places her above
the angels. But it suffices us that the universe is very great and very
varied: to wish to limit it is to have little knowledge thereof. 'But', M.
Bayle goes on, 'God has given free will to creatures capable of sinning,
without their having asked him for this grace. And he who gave such a gift
would be more answerable for the unhappiness that it brought upon those who
made use of it, than if he had granted it only in response to their
importunate prayers.' But importunity in prayers makes no difference to
God; he knows better than we what we need, and he only grants what serves
the interest of the whole. It seems that M. Bayle here makes free will
consist in the faculty for sinning; yet he acknowledges elsewhere that God
and the Saints are free, without having this faculty. However that may be,
I have already shown fully that God, doing what his wisdom and his goodness
combined ordain, is not answerable for the evil that he permits. Even men,
when they do their duty, are not answerable for consequences, whether they
foresee them or not.
121. VI. 'It is as sure a means of taking a man's life to give him a silk
cord that one knows certainly he will make use of freely to strangle
himself, as to plant a few dagger thrusts in his body. One desires his
death not less when one makes use of the first way, than when one employs
the second: it even seems as though one desires it with a more malicious
intention, since one tends to leave to him the whole trouble and the whole
blame of his destruction.'
[194]
Those who write treatises on Duties (De Officiis) as, for instance, Cicero,
St. Ambrose, Grotius, Opalenius, Sharrok, Rachelius, Pufendorf, as well as
the Casuists, teach that there are cases where one is not obliged to return
to its owner a thing deposited: for example, one will not give back a
dagger when one knows that he who has deposited it is about to stab
someone. Let us pretend that I have in my hands the fatal draught that
Meleager's mother will make use of to kill him; the magic javelin that
Cephalus will unwittingly employ to kill his Procris; the horses of Theseus
that will tear to pieces Hippolytus, his son: these things are demanded
back from me, and I am right in refusing them, knowing the use that will be
made of them. But how will it be if a competent judge orders me to restore
them, when I cannot prove to him what I know of the evil consequences that
restitution will have, Apollo perchance having given to me, as to
Cassandra, the gift of prophecy under the condition that I shall not be
believed? I should then be compelled to make restitution, having no
alternative other than my own destruction: thus I cannot escape from
contributing towards the evil. Another comparison: Jupiter promises Semele,
the Sun Phaeton, Cupid Psyche to grant whatever favour the other shall ask.
They swear by the Styx,
_Di cujus jurare timent et fallere Numen_.
One would gladly stop, but too late, the request half heard,
_Voluit Deus ora loquentis_
_Opprimere; exierat jam vox properata sub auras_.
One would gladly draw back after the request was made, making vain
remonstrances; but they press you, they say to you: 'Do you make oaths that
you will not keep?' The law of the Styx is inviolable, one must needs
submit to it; if one has erred in making the oath, one would err more in
not keeping it; the promise must be fulfilled, however harmful it may be to
him who exacts it. It would be ruinous to you if you did not fulfil it. It
seems as though the moral of these fables implies that a supreme necessity
may constrain one to comply with evil. God, in truth, knows no other judge
that can compel him to give what may turn to evil, he is not like Jupiter
who fears the Styx. But his own wisdom is the greatest judge that he can
find, there is no appeal from its judgements: they are the decrees of
destiny. The eternal verities, objects of his wisdom, are more [195]
inviolable than the Styx. These laws and this judge do not constrain: they
are stronger, for they persuade. Wisdom only shows God the best possible
exercise of his goodness: after that, the evil that occurs is an inevitable
result of the best. I will add something stronger: To permit the evil, as
God permits it, is the greatest goodness.
_Si mala sustulerat, non erat ille bonus._
One would need to have a bent towards perversity to say after this that it
is more malicious to leave to someone the whole trouble and the whole blame
of his destruction. When God does leave it to a man, it has belonged to him
since before his existence; it was already in the idea of him as still
merely possible, before the decree of God which makes him to exist. Can
one, then, leave it or give it to another? There is the whole matter.
122. VII. 'A true benefactor gives promptly, and does not wait to give
until those he loves have suffered long miseries from the privation of what
he could have imparted to them at first very easily, and without causing
any inconvenience to himself. If the limitation of his forces does not
permit him to do good without inflicting pain or some other inconvenience,
he acquiesces in this, but only regretfully, and he never employs this way
of rendering service when he can render it without mingling any kind of
evil in his favours. If the profit one could derive from the evils he
inflicted could spring as easily from an unalloyed good as from those
evils, he would take the straight road of unalloyed good, and not the
indirect road that would lead from the evil to the good. If he showers
riches and honours, it is not to the end that those who have enjoyed them,
when they come to lose them, should be all the more deeply afflicted in
proportion to their previous experience of pleasure, and that thus they
should become more unhappy than the persons who have always been deprived
of these advantages. A malicious being would shower good things at such a
price upon the people for whom he had the most hatred.'
(Compare this passage of Aristotle, _Rhetor._, 1. 2, c. 23, p. m. 446:
[Greek: hoion ei doiê an tis tini hina aphelomenos leipêsêi; hothen kai
tout' eirêtai,]
[Greek: pollois ho daimôn ou kat' eunoian pherôn]
[Greek: Megala didôsin eutychêmat', all' hina]
[Greek: tas symphoras labôsin epiphanesteras.]
[196]
Id est: Veluti si quis alicui aliquid det, ut (postea) hoc (ipsi) erepto
(ipsum) afficiat dolore. Unde etiam illud est dictum:
_Bona magna multis non amicus dat Deus,_
_Insigniore ut rursus his privet malo._)
All these objections depend almost on the same sophism; they change and
mutilate the fact, they only half record things: God has care for men, he
loves the human race, he wishes it well, nothing so true. Yet he allows men
to fall, he often allows them to perish, he gives them goods that tend
towards their destruction; and when he makes someone happy, it is after
many sufferings: where is his affection, where is his goodness or again
where is his power? Vain objections, which suppress the main point, which
ignore the fact that it is of God one speaks. It is as though one were
speaking of a mother, a guardian, a tutor, whose well-nigh only care is
concerned with the upbringing, the preservation, the happiness of the
person in question, and who neglect their duty. God takes care of the
universe, he neglects nothing, he chooses what is best on the whole. If in
spite of all that someone is wicked and unhappy, it behoved him to be so.
God (so they say) could have given happiness to all, he could have given it
promptly and easily, and without causing himself any inconvenience, for he
can do all. But should he? Since he does not so, it is a sign that he had
to act altogether differently. If we infer from this either that God only
regretfully, and owing to lack of power, fails to make men happy and to
give the good first of all and without admixture of evil, or else that he
lacks the good will to give it unreservedly and for good and all, then we
are comparing our true God with the God of Herodotus, full of envy, or with
the demon of the poet whose iambics Aristotle quotes, and I have just
translated into Latin, who gives good things in order that he may cause
more affliction by taking them away. That would be trifling with God in
perpetual anthropomorphisms, representing him as a man who must give
himself up completely to one particular business, whose goodness must be
chiefly exercised upon those objects alone which are known to us, and who
lacks either aptitude or good will. God is not lacking therein, he could do
the good that we would desire; he even wishes it, taking it separately, but
he must not do it in preference to other greater goods which are opposed to
it. Moreover, one has no cause to complain of the fact that usually [197]
one attains salvation only through many sufferings, and by bearing the
cross of Jesus Christ. These evils serve to make the elect imitators of
their master, and to increase their happiness.
123. VIII. 'The greatest and the most substantial glory that he who is the
master of others can gain is to maintain amongst them virtue, order, peace,
contentment of mind. The glory that he would derive from their unhappiness
can be nothing but a false glory.'
If we knew the city of God just as it is, we should see that it is the most
perfect state which can be devised; that virtue and happiness reign there,
as far as is possible, in accordance with the laws of the best; that sin
and unhappiness (whose entire exclusion from the nature of things reasons
of the supreme order did not permit), are well-nigh nothing there in
comparison with the good, and even are of service for greater good. Now
since these evils were to exist, there must needs be some appointed to be
subject to them, and we are those people. If it were others, would there
not be the same appearance of evil? Or rather, would not these others be
those known as We? When God derives some glory from the evil through having
made it serve a greater good, it was proper that he should derive that
glory. It is not therefore a false glory, as would be that of a prince who
overthrew his state in order to have the honour of setting it up again.
124. IX. 'The way whereby that master can give proof of greatest love for
virtue is to cause it, if he can, to be always practised without any
mixture of vice. If it is easy for him to procure for his subjects this
advantage, and nevertheless he permits vice to raise its head, save that he
punishes it finally after having long tolerated it, his affection for
virtue is not the greatest one can conceive; it is therefore not infinite.'
I am not yet half way through the nineteen maxims, and already I am weary
of refuting, and making the same answer always. M. Bayle multiplies
unnecessarily his so-called maxims in opposition to my dogmas. If things
connected together may be separated, the parts from their whole, the human
kind from the universe, God's attributes the one from the other, power from
wisdom, it may be said that God _can cause_ virtue to be in the world
without any mixture of vice, and even that he can do so _easily_. But,
since he has permitted vice, it must be that that order of the universe
which was found preferable to every other plan required it. One must
believe that it is not permitted to do otherwise, since it is not [198]
possible to do better. It is a hypothetical necessity, a moral necessity,
which, far from being contrary to freedom, is the effect of its choice.
_Quae rationi contraria sunt, ea nec fieri a Sapiente posse credendum est_.
The objection is made here, that God's affection for virtue is therefore
not the greatest which can be conceived, that it is not _infinite_. To that
an answer has already been given on the second maxim, in the assertion that
God's affection for any created thing whatsoever is proportionate to the
value of the thing. Virtue is the noblest quality of created things, but it
is not the only good quality of creatures. There are innumerable others
which attract the inclination of God: from all these inclinations there
results the most possible good, and it turns out that if there were only
virtue, if there were only rational creatures, there would be less good.
Midas proved to be less rich when he had only gold. And besides, wisdom
must vary. To multiply one and the same thing only would be superfluity,
and poverty too. To have a thousand well-bound Vergils in one's library,
always to sing the airs from the opera of Cadmus and Hermione, to break all
the china in order only to have cups of gold, to have only diamond buttons,
to eat nothing but partridges, to drink only Hungarian or Shiraz
wine--would one call that reason? Nature had need of animals, plants,
inanimate bodies; there are in these creatures, devoid of reason, marvels
which serve for exercise of the reason. What would an intelligent creature
do if there were no unintelligent things? What would it think of, if there
were neither movement, nor matter, nor sense? If it had only distinct
thoughts it would be a God, its wisdom would be without bounds: that is one
of the results of my meditations. As soon as there is a mixture of confused
thoughts, there is sense, there is matter. For these confused thoughts come
from the relation of all things one to the other by way of duration and
extent. Thus it is that in my philosophy there is no rational creature
without some organic body, and there is no created spirit entirely detached
from matter. But these organic bodies vary no less in perfection than the
spirits to which they belong. Therefore, since God's wisdom must have a
world of bodies, a world of substances capable of perception and incapable
of reason; since, in short, it was necessary to choose from all the things
possible what produced the best effect together, and since vice entered in
by this door, God would not have been altogether good, altogether wise if
he had excluded it.
[199]
125. X. 'The way to evince the greatest hatred for vice is not indeed to
allow it to prevail for a long time and then chastise it, but to crush it
before its birth, that is, prevent it from showing itself anywhere. A king,
for example, who put his finances in such good order that no malversation
was ever committed, would thus display more hatred for the wrong done by
factionaries than if, after having suffered them to batten on the blood of
the people, he had them hanged.'
It is always the same song, it is anthropomorphism pure and simple. A king
should generally have nothing so much at heart as to keep his subjects free
from oppression. One of his greatest interests is to bring good order into
his finances. Nevertheless there are times when he is obliged to tolerate
vice and disorders. He has a great war on his hands, he is in a state of
exhaustion, he has no choice of generals, it is necessary to humour those
he has, those possessed of great authority with the soldiers: a Braccio, a
Sforza, a Wallenstein. He lacks money for the most pressing needs, it is
necessary to turn to great financiers, who have an established credit, and
he must at the same time connive at their malversations. It is true that
this unfortunate necessity arises most often from previous errors. It is
not the same with God: he has need of no man, he commits no error, he
always does the best. One cannot even wish that things may go better, when
one understands them: and it would be a vice in the Author of things if he
wished to change anything whatsoever in them, if he wished to exclude the
vice that was found there. Is this State with perfect government, where
good is willed and performed as far as it is possible, where evil even
serves the greatest good, comparable with the State of a prince whose
affairs are in ruin and who escapes as best he can? Or with that of a
prince who encourages oppression in order to punish it, and who delights to
see the little men with begging bowls and the great on scaffolds?
126. XI. 'A ruler devoted to the interests of virtue, and to the good of
his subjects, takes the utmost care to ensure that they never disobey his
laws; and if he must needs chastise them for their disobedience, he sees to
it that the penalty cures them of the inclination to evil, and restores in
their soul a strong and constant tendency towards good: so far is he from
any desire that the penalty for the error should incline them more and more
towards evil.'
[200]
To make men better, God does all that is due, and even all that can be done
on his side without detriment to what is due. The most usual aim of
punishment is amendment; but it is not the sole aim, nor that which God
always intends. I have said a word on that above. Original sin, which
disposes men towards evil, is not merely a penalty for the first sin; it is
a natural consequence thereof. On that too a word has been said, in the
course of an observation on the fourth theological proposition. It is like
drunkenness, which is a penalty for excess in drinking and is at the same
time a natural consequence that easily leads to new sins.
127. XII. 'To permit the evil that one could prevent is not to care whether
it be committed or not, or is even to wish that it be committed.'
By no means. How many times do men permit evils which they could prevent if
they turned all their efforts in that direction? But other more important
cares prevent them from doing so. One will rarely resolve upon adjusting
irregularities in the coinage while one is involved in a great war. And the
action of an English Parliament in this direction a little before the Peace
of Ryswyck will be rather praised than imitated. Can one conclude from this
that the State has no anxiety about this irregularity, or even that it
desires it? God has a far stronger reason, and one far more worthy of him,
for tolerating evils. Not only does he derive from them greater goods, but
he finds them connected with the greatest goods of all those that are
possible: so that it would be a fault not to permit them.
128. XIII. 'It is a very great fault in those who govern, if they do not
care whether there be disorder in their States or not. The fault is still
greater if they wish and even desire disorder there. If by hidden and
indirect, but infallible, ways they stirred up a sedition in their States
to bring them to the brink of ruin, in order to gain for themselves the
glory of showing that they have the courage and the prudence necessary for
saving a great kingdom on the point of perishing, they would be most
deserving of condemnation. But if they stirred up this sedition because
there were no other means than that, of averting the total ruin of their
subjects and of strengthening on new foundations, and for several
centuries, the happiness of nations, one must needs lament the unfortunate
necessity (see above, pp. 146, 147, what has been said of the force of[201]
necessity) to which they were reduced, and praise them for the use that
they made thereof.'
This maxim, with divers others set forth here, is not applicable to the
government of God. Not to mention the fact that it is only the disorders of
a very small part of his kingdom which are brought up in objection, it is
untrue that he has no anxiety about evils, that he desires them, that he
brings them into being, to have the glory of allaying them. God wills order
and good; but it happens sometimes that what is disorder in the part is
order in the whole. I have already stated this legal axiom: _Incivile est
nisi tota lege inspecta judicare_. The permission of evils comes from a
kind of moral necessity: God is constrained to this by his wisdom and by
his goodness; _this necessity is happy_, whereas that of the prince spoken
of in the maxim is _unhappy_. His State is one of the most corrupt; and the
government of God is the best State possible.
129. XIV. 'The permission of a certain evil is only excusable when one
cannot remedy it without introducing a greater evil; but it cannot be
excusable in those who have in hand a remedy more efficacious against this
evil, and against all the other evils that could spring from the
suppression of this one.'
The maxim is true, but it cannot be brought forward against the government
of God. Supreme reason constrains him to permit the evil. If God chose what
would not be the best absolutely and in all, that would be a greater evil
than all the individual evils which he could prevent by this means. This
wrong choice would destroy his wisdom and his goodness.
130. XV. 'The Being infinitely powerful, Creator of matter and of spirits,
makes whatever he wills of this matter and these spirits. There is no
situation or shape that he cannot communicate to spirits. If he then
permitted a physical or a moral evil, this would not be for the reason that
otherwise some other still greater physical or moral evil would be
altogether inevitable. None of those reasons for the mixture of good and
evil which are founded on the limitation of the forces of benefactors can
apply to him.'
It is true that God makes of matter and of spirits whatever he wills; but
he is like a good sculptor, who will make from his block of marble only
that which he judges to be the best, and who judges well. God makes of
matter the most excellent of all possible machines; he makes of spirits the
most excellent of all governments conceivable; and over and above all that,
he establishes for their union the most perfect of all harmonies, [202]
according to the system I have proposed. Now since physical evil and moral
evil occur in this perfect work, one must conclude (contrary to M. Bayle's
assurance here) that _otherwise a still greater evil would have been
altogether inevitable_. This great evil would be that God would have chosen
ill if he had chosen otherwise than he has chosen. It is true that God is
infinitely powerful; but his power is indeterminate, goodness and wisdom
combined determine him to produce the best. M. Bayle makes elsewhere an
objection which is peculiar to him, which he derives from the opinions of
the modern Cartesians. They say that God could have given to souls what
thoughts he would, without making them depend upon any relation to the
body: by this means souls would be spared a great number of evils which
only spring from derangement of the body. More will be said of this later;
now it is sufficient to bear in mind that God cannot establish a system
ill-connected and full of dissonances. It is to some extent the nature of
souls to represent bodies.
131. XVI. 'One is just as much the cause of an event when one brings it
about in moral ways, as when one brings it about in physical ways. A
Minister of State, who, without going out of his study, and simply by
utilizing the passions of the leaders of a faction, overthrew all their
plots, would thus be bringing about the ruin of this faction, no less than
if he destroyed it by a surprise attack.'
I have nothing to say against this maxim. Evil is always attributed to
moral causes, and not always to physical causes. Here I observe simply that
if I could not prevent the sin of others except by committing a sin myself,
I should be justified in permitting it, and I should not be accessary
thereto, or its moral cause. In God, every fault would represent a sin; it
would be even more than sin, for it would destroy Divinity. And it would be
a great fault in him not to choose the best. I have said so many times. He
would then prevent sin by something worse than all sins.
132. XVII. 'It is all the same whether one employ a necessary cause, or
employ a free cause while choosing the moments when one knows it to be
determined. If I imagine that gunpowder has the power to ignite or not to
ignite when fire touches it, and if I know for certain that it will be
disposed to ignite at eight o'clock in the morning, I shall be just as much
the cause of its effects if I apply the fire to it at that hour, as I
should be in assuming, as is the case, that it is a necessary cause. [203]
For where I am concerned it would no longer be a free cause. I should be
catching it at the moment when I knew it to be necessitated by its own
choice. It is impossible for a being to be free or indifferent with regard
to that to which it is already determined, and at the time when it is
determined thereto. All that which exists exists of necessity while it
exists. [Greek: To einai to on hotan êi, kai to mê einai hotan mê êi,
anankê.] "Necesse est id quod est, quando est, esse; et id quod non est,
quando non est, non esse": Arist., _De Interpret._, cap. 9. The Nominalists
have adopted this maxim of Aristotle. Scotus and sundry other Schoolmen
appear to reject it, but fundamentally their distinctions come to the same
thing. See the Jesuits of Coimbra on this passage from Aristotle, p. 380
_et seq._)'
This maxim may pass also; I would wish only to change something in the
phraseology. I would not take 'free' and 'indifferent' for one and the same
thing, and would not place 'free' and 'determined' in antithesis. One is
never altogether indifferent with an indifference of equipoise; one is
always more inclined and consequently more determined on one side than on
another: but one is never necessitated to the choice that one makes. I mean
here a _necessity_ absolute and metaphysical; for it must be admitted that
God, that wisdom, is prompted to the best by a _moral_ necessity. It must
be admitted also that one is necessitated to the choice by a hypothetical
necessity, when one actually makes the choice; and even before one is
necessitated thereto by the very truth of the futurition, since one will do
it. These hypothetical necessities do no harm. I have spoken sufficiently
on this point already.
133. XVIII. 'When a whole great people has become guilty of rebellion, it
is not showing clemency to pardon the hundred thousandth part, and to kill
all the rest, not excepting even babes and sucklings.'
It seems to be assumed here that there are a hundred thousand times more
damned than saved, and that children dying unbaptized are included among
the former. Both these points are disputed, and especially the damnation of
these children. I have spoken of this above. M. Bayle urges the same
objection elsewhere (_Reply to the Questions of a Provincial_, vol. III,
ch. 178, p. 1223): 'We see clearly', he says, 'that the Sovereign who
wishes to exercise both justice and clemency when a city has revolted must
be content with the punishment of a small number of mutineers, and [204]
pardon all the rest. For if the number of those who are chastised is as a
thousand to one, in comparison with those whom he freely pardons, he cannot
be accounted mild, but, on the contrary, cruel. He would assuredly be
accounted an abominable tyrant if he chose punishments of long duration,
and if he eschewed bloodshed only because he was convinced that men would
prefer death to a miserable life; and if, finally, the desire to take
revenge were more responsible for his severities than the desire to turn to
the service of the common weal the penalty that he would inflict on almost
all the rebels. Criminals who are executed are considered to expiate their
crimes so completely by the loss of their life, that the public requires
nothing more, and is indignant when executioners are clumsy. These would be
stoned if they were known deliberately to give repeated strokes of the axe;
and the judges who are present at the execution would not be immune from
danger if they were thought to take pleasure in this evil sport of the
executioners, and to have surreptitiously urged them to practise it.' (Note
that this is not to be understood as strictly universal. There are cases
where the people approve of the slow killing of certain criminals, as when
Francis I thus put to death some persons accused of heresy after the
notorious Placards of 1534. No pity was shown to Ravaillac, who was
tortured in divers horrible ways. See the _French Mercury_, vol. I, fol.
m., 455 _et seq._ See also Pierre Matthieu in his _History of the Death of
Henry IV_; and do not forget what he says on page m. 99 concerning the
discussion by the judges with regard to the torture of this parricide.)
'Finally it is an exceptionally notorious fact that Rulers who should be
guided by St. Paul, I mean who should condemn to the extreme penalty all
those whom he condemns to eternal death, would be accounted enemies of the
human kind and destroyers of their communities. It is incontestable that
their laws, far from being fitted, in accordance with the aim of
legislators, to uphold society, would be its complete ruin. (Apply here
these words of Pliny the Younger, _Epist._, 22, lib. 8: Mandemus memoriae
quod vir mitissimus, et ob hoc quoque maximus, Thrasea crebro dicere
solebat, Qui vitia odit, homines odit.)' He adds that it was said of the
laws of Draco, an Athenian lawgiver, that they had not been written with
ink, but with blood, because they punished all sins with the extreme
penalty, and because damnation is a penalty even worse than death. But it
must be borne in mind that damnation is a consequence of sin. Thus I [205]
once answered a friend, who raised as an objection the disproportion
existing between an eternal punishment and a limited crime, that there is
no injustice when the continuation of the punishment is only a result of
the continuation of the sin. I will speak further on this point later. As
for the number of the damned, even though it should be incomparably greater
among men than the number of the saved, that would not preclude the
possibility that in the universe the happy creatures infinitely outnumber
those who are unhappy. Such examples as that of a prince who punishes only
the leaders of rebels or of a general who has a regiment decimated, are of
no importance here. Self-interest compels the prince and the general to
pardon the guilty, even though they should remain wicked. God only pardons
those who become better: he can distinguish them; and this severity is more
consistent with perfect justice. But if anyone asks why God gives not to
all the grace of conversion, the question is of a different nature, having
no relation to the present maxim. I have already answered it in a sense,
not in order to find God's reasons, but to show that he cannot lack such,
and that there are no opposing reasons of any validity. Moreover, we know
that sometimes whole cities are destroyed and the inhabitants put to the
sword, to inspire terror in the rest. That may serve to shorten a great war
or a rebellion, and would mean a saving of blood through the shedding of
it: there is no decimation there. We cannot assert, indeed, that the wicked
of our globe are punished so severely in order to intimidate the
inhabitants of the other globes and to make them better. Yet an abundance
of reasons in the universal harmony which are unknown to us, because we
know not sufficiently the extent of the city of God, nor the form of the
general republic of spirits, nor even the whole architecture of bodies, may
produce the same effect.
134. XIX. 'Those physicians who chose, among many remedies capable of
curing a sick man, whereof divers were such as they well knew he would take
with enjoyment, precisely that one which they knew he would refuse to take,
would vainly urge and pray him not to refuse it; we should still have just
cause for thinking that they had no desire to cure him: for if they wished
to do so, they would choose for him among those good medicines one which
they knew he would willingly swallow. If, moreover, they knew that
rejection of the remedy they offered him would augment his sickness to[206]
the point of making it fatal, one could not help saying that, despite all
their exhortations, they must certainly be desirous of the sick man's
death.'
God wishes to save all men: that means that he would save them if men
themselves did not prevent it, and did not refuse to receive his grace; and
he is not bound or prompted by reason always to overcome their evil will.
He does so sometimes nevertheless, when superior reasons allow of it, and
when his consequent and decretory will, which results from all his reasons,
makes him resolve upon the election of a certain number of men. He gives
aids to all for their conversion and for perseverance, and these aids
suffice in those who have good will, but they do not always suffice to give
good will. Men obtain this good will either through particular aids or
through circumstances which cause the success of the general aids. God
cannot refrain from offering other remedies which he knows men will reject,
bringing upon themselves all the greater guilt: but shall one wish that God
be unjust in order that man may be less criminal? Moreover, the grace that
does not serve the one may serve the other, and indeed always serves the
totality of God's plan, which is the best possible in conception. Shall God
not give the rain, because there are low-lying places which will be thereby
incommoded? Shall the sun not shine as much as it should for the world in
general, because there are places which will be too much dried up in
consequence? In short, all these comparisons, spoken of in these maxims
that M. Bayle has just given, of a physician, a benefactor, a minister of
State, a prince, are exceedingly lame, because it is well known what their
duties are and what can and ought to be the object of their cares: they
have scarce more than the one affair, and they often fail therein through
negligence or malice. God's object has in it something infinite, his cares
embrace the universe: what we know thereof is almost nothing, and we desire
to gauge his wisdom and his goodness by our knowledge. What temerity, or
rather what absurdity! The objections are on false assumptions; it is
senseless to pass judgement on the point of law when one does not know the
matter of fact. To say with St. Paul, _O altitudo divitiarum et
sapientiae,_ is not renouncing reason, it is rather employing the reasons
that we know, for they teach us that immensity of God whereof the Apostle
speaks. But therein we confess our ignorance of the facts, and we
acknowledge, moreover, before we see it, that God does all the best [207]
possible, in accordance with the infinite wisdom which guides his actions.
It is true that we have already before our eyes proofs and tests of this,
when we see something entire, some whole complete in itself, and isolated,
so to speak, among the works of God. Such a whole, shaped as it were by the
hand of God, is a plant, an animal, a man. We cannot wonder enough at the
beauty and the contrivance of its structure. But when we see some broken
bone, some piece of animal's flesh, some sprig of a plant, there appears to
be nothing but confusion, unless an excellent anatomist observe it: and
even he would recognize nothing therein if he had not before seen like
pieces attached to their whole. It is the same with the government of God:
that which we have been able to see hitherto is not a large enough piece
for recognition of the beauty and the order of the whole. Thus the very
nature of things implies that this order in the Divine City, which we see
not yet here on earth, should be an object of our faith, of our hope, of
our confidence in God. If there are any who think otherwise, so much the
worse for them, they are malcontents in the State of the greatest and the
best of all monarchs; and they are wrong not to take advantage of the
examples he has given them of his wisdom and his infinite goodness, whereby
he reveals himself as being not only wonderful, but also worthy of love
beyond all things.
135. I hope it will be found that nothing of what is comprised in the
nineteen maxims of M. Bayle, which we have just considered, has been left
without a necessary answer. It is likely that, having often before
meditated on this subject, he will have put there all his strongest
convictions touching the moral cause of moral evil. There are, however,
still sundry passages here and there in his works which it will be well not
to pass over in silence. Very often he exaggerates the difficulty which he
assumes with regard to freeing God from the imputation of sin. He observes
_(Reply to the Questions of a Provincial_, ch. 161, p. 1024) that Molina,
if he reconciled free will with foreknowledge, did not reconcile the
goodness and the holiness of God with sin. He praises the sincerity of
those who bluntly declare (as he claims Piscator did) that everything is to
be traced back to the will of God, and who maintain that God could not but
be just, even though he were the author of sin, even though he condemned
innocence. And on the other side, or in other passages, he seems to show
more approval of the opinions of those who preserve God's goodness at [208]
the expense of his greatness, as Plutarch does in his book against the
Stoics. 'It was more reasonable', he says, 'to say' (with the Epicureans)
'that innumerable parts' (or atoms flying about at haphazard through an
infinite space) 'by their force prevailed over the weakness of Jupiter and,
in spite of him and against his nature and will, did many bad and
irrational things, than to agree that there is neither confusion nor
wickedness but he is the author thereof.' What may be said for both these
parties, Stoics and Epicureans, appears to have led M. Bayle to the [Greek:
epechein] of the Pyrrhonians, the suspension of his judgement in respect of
reason, so long as faith is set apart; and to that he professes sincere
submission.
136. Pursuing his arguments, however, he has gone as far as attempting
almost to revive and reinforce those of the disciples of Manes, a Persian
heretic of the third century after Christ, or of a certain Paul, chief of
the Manichaeans in Armenia in the seventh century, from whom they were
named Paulicians. All these heretics renewed what an ancient philosopher of
Upper Asia, known under the name of Zoroaster, had taught, so it is said,
of two intelligent principles of all things, the one good, the other bad, a
dogma that had perhaps come from the Indians. Among them numbers of people
still cling to their error, one that is exceedingly prone to overtake human
ignorance and superstition, since very many barbarous peoples, even in
America, have been deluded by it, without having had need of philosophy.
The Slavs (according to Helmold) had their Zernebog or black God. The
Greeks and Romans, wise as they seem to be, had a Vejovis or Anti-Jupiter,
otherwise called Pluto, and numerous other maleficent divinities. The
Goddess Nemesis took pleasure in abasing those who were too fortunate; and
Herodotus in some passages hints at his belief that all Divinity is
envious; which, however, is not in harmony with the doctrine of the two
principles.
137. Plutarch, in his treatise _On Isis and Osiris_, knows of no writer
more ancient than Zoroaster the magician, as he calls him, that is likely
to have taught the two principles. Trogus or Justin makes him a King of the
Bactrians, who was conquered by Ninus or Semiramis; he attributes to him
the knowledge of astronomy and the invention of magic. But this magic was
apparently the religion of the fire-worshippers: and it appears that he
looked upon light and heat as the good principle, while he added the [209]
evil, that is to say, opacity, darkness, cold. Pliny cites the testimony of
a certain Hermippus, an interpreter of Zoroaster's books, according to whom
Zoroaster was a disciple in the art of magic to one named Azonacus; unless
indeed this be a corruption of Oromases, of whom I shall speak presently,
and whom Plato in the _Alcibiades_ names as the father of Zoroaster. Modern
Orientals give the name Zerdust to him whom the Greeks named Zoroaster; he
is regarded as corresponding to Mercury, because with some nations
Wednesday _(mercredi)_ takes its name from him. It is difficult to
disentangle the story of Zoroaster and know exactly when he lived. Suidas
puts him five hundred years before the taking of Troy. Some Ancients cited
by Pliny and Plutarch took it to be ten times as far back. But Xanthus the
Lydian (in the preface to Diogenes Laertius) put him only six hundred years
before the expedition of Xerxes. Plato declares in the same passage, as M.
Bayle observes, that the magic of Zoroaster was nothing but the study of
religion. Mr. Hyde in his book on the religion of the ancient Persians
tries to justify this magic, and to clear it not only of the crime of
impiety but also of idolatry. Fire-worship prevailed among the Persians and
the Chaldaeans also; it is thought that Abraham left it when he departed
from Ur of the Chaldees. Mithras was the sun and he was also the God of the
Persians; and according to Ovid's account horses were offered in sacrifice
to him,
_Placat equo Persis radiis Hyperiona cinctum,_
_Ne detur celeri victima tarda Deo._
But Mr. Hyde believes that they only made use of the sun and fire in their
worship as symbols of the Divinity. It may be necessary to distinguish, as
elsewhere, between the Wise and the Multitude. There are in the splendid
ruins of Persepolis or of Tschelminaar (which means forty columns)
sculptured representations of their ceremonies. An ambassador of Holland
had had them sketched at very great cost by a painter, who had devoted a
considerable time to the task: but by some chance or other these sketches
fell into the hands of a well-known traveller, M. Chardin, according to
what he tells us himself. It would be a pity if they were lost. These ruins
are one of the most ancient and most beautiful monuments of the earth; and
in this respect I wonder at such lack of curiosity in a century so curious
as ours.
[210]
138. The ancient Greeks and the modern Orientals agree in saying that
Zoroaster called the good God Oromazes, or rather Oromasdes, and the evil
God Arimanius. When I pondered on the fact that great princes of Upper Asia
had the name of Hormisdas and that Irminius or Herminius was the name of a
god or ancient hero of the Scythian Celts, that is, of the Germani, it
occurred to me that this Arimanius or Irminius might have been a great
conqueror of very ancient time coming from the west, just as Genghis Khan
and Tamburlaine were later, coming from the east. Arimanius would therefore
have come from the north-west, that is, from Germania and Sarmatia, through
the territory of the Alani and Massagetae, to raid the dominions of one
Ormisdas, a great king in Upper Asia, just as other Scythians did in the
days of Cyaxares, King of the Medes, according to the account given by
Herodotus. The monarch governing civilized peoples, and working to defend
them against the barbarians, would have gone down to posterity, amongst the
same peoples, as the good god; but the chief of these devastators will have
become the symbol of the evil principle: that is altogether reasonable. It
appears from this same mythology that these two princes contended for long,
but that neither of them was victorious. Thus they both held their own,
just as the two principles shared the empire of the world according to the
hypothesis attributed to Zoroaster.
139. It remains to be proved that an ancient god or hero of the Germani was
called Herman, Arimanius or Irminius. Tacitus relates that the three tribes
which composed Germania, the Ingaevones, the Istaevones and the Herminones
or Hermiones, were thus named from the three sons of Mannus. Whether that
be true or not, he wished in any case to indicate that there was a hero
named Herminius, from whom he was told the Herminones were named.
Herminones, Hermenner, Hermunduri all mean the same, that is, Soldiers.
Even in the Dark Ages Arimanni were _viri militares,_ and there is _feudum
Arimandiae_ in Lombard law.
140. I have shown elsewhere that apparently the name of one part of
Germania was given to the whole, and that from these Herminones or
Hermunduri all the Teutonic peoples were named _Hermanni_ or _Germani_. The
difference between these two words is only in the force of the aspiration:
there is the same difference of initial letter between the _Germani_ of the
Latins and _Hermanos_ of the Spaniards, or in the _Gammarus_ of the Latins
and the _Hummer_ (that is, marine crayfish) of the Low Germans. [211]
Besides it is very usual for one part of a nation to give the name to the
whole: so all the Germani were called Alemanni by the French, and yet this,
according to the old nomenclature, only applied to the Suabians and the
Swiss. Although Tacitus did not actually know the origin of the name of the
Germani, he said something which supports my opinion, when he observed that
it was a name which inspired terror, taken or given _ob metum_. In fact it
signifies a warrior: _Heer_, _Hari_ is army, whence comes _Hariban_, or
'call to Haro', that is, a general order to be with the army, since
corrupted into _Arrièreban_. Thus Hariman or Ariman, German _Guerre-man_,
is a soldier. For as _Hari_, _Heer_ means army, so _Wehr_ signifies arms,
_Wehren_ to fight, to make war, the word _Guerre_, _Guerra_ coming
doubtless from the same source. I have already spoken of the _feudum
Arimandiae_: not only did Herminones or Germani signify the same, but also
that ancient Herman, so-called son of Mannus, appears to have been given
this name as being pre-eminently a warrior.
141. Now it is not the passage in Tacitus only which indicates for us this
god or hero: we cannot doubt the existence of one of this name among these
peoples, since Charlemagne found and destroyed near the Weser the column
called _Irminsäule_, erected in honour of this god. And that combined with
the passage in Tacitus leaves us with the conclusion that it was not that
famous Arminius who was an enemy of the Romans, but a much greater and more
ancient hero, that this cult concerned. Arminius bore the same name as
those who are called Hermann to-day. Arminius was not great enough, nor
fortunate enough, nor well enough known throughout Germania to attain to
the honour of a public cult, even at the hands of remote tribes, like the
Saxons, who came long after him into the country of the Cherusci. And our
Arminius, taken by the Asiatics for the evil God, provides ample
confirmation of my opinion. For in these matters conjectures confirm one
another without any logical circle, when their foundations tend towards one
and the same end.
142. It is not beyond belief that the Hermes (that is, Mercury) of the
Greeks is the same Herminius or Arimanius. He may have been an inventor or
promoter of the arts and of a slightly more civilized life among his own
people and in the countries where he held supremacy, while amongst his
enemies he was looked upon as the author of confusion. Who knows but that
he may have penetrated even into Egypt, like the Scythians who in [212]
pursuit of Sesostris came nearly so far. Theut, Menes and Hermes were known
and revered in Egypt. They might have been Tuiscon, his son Mannus and
Herman, son of Mannus, according to the genealogy of Tacitus. Menes is held
to be the most ancient king of the Egyptians; 'Theut' was with them a name
for Mercury. At least Theut or Tuiscon, from whom Tacitus derives the
descent of the Germani, and from whom the Teutons, _Tuitsche_ (that is,
Germani) even to-day have their name, is the same as that _Teutates_ who
according to Lucan was worshipped by the Gauls, and whom Caesar took _pro
Dite Patre_, for Pluto, because of the resemblance between his Latin name
and that of _Teut_ or _Thiet_, _Titan_, _Theodon_; this in ancient times
signified men, people, and also an excellent man (like the word 'baron'),
in short, a prince. There are authorities for all these significations: but
one must not delay over this point. Herr Otto Sperling, who is well known
for various learned writings, but has many more in readiness to appear, in
a special dissertation has treated the question of this Teutates, God of
the Celts. Some observations which I imparted to him on that subject have
been published, with his reply, in the _Literary News of the Baltic Sea_.
He interprets this passage from Lucan somewhat otherwise than I do:
_Teutates, pollensque feris altaribus Hesus,_
_Et Tamaris Scythicae non mitior ara Dianae._
Hesus was, it appears, the God of War, who was called Ares by the Greeks
and Erich by the ancient Germani, whence still remains _Erichtag_, Tuesday.
The letters R and S, which are produced by the same organ, are easily
interchanged, for instance: _Moor_ and _Moos_, _Geren_ and _Gesen_, _Er
war_ and _Er was_, _Fer_, _Hierro_, _Eiron_, _Eisen_. Likewise _Papisius_,
_Valesius_, _Fusius_, instead of _Papirius_, _Valerius_, _Furius_, with the
ancient Romans. As for Taramis or perhaps Taranis, one knows that _Taran_
was the thunder, or the God of Thunder, with the ancient Celts, called
_Thor_ by the Germani of the north; whence the English have preserved the
name 'Thursday', _jeudi_, _diem Jovis_. And the passage from Lucan means
that the altar of Taran, God of the Celts, was not less cruel than that of
Diana in Tauris: _Taranis aram non mitiorem ara Dianae Scythicae fuisse_.
143. It is also not impossible that there was a time when the western [213]
or Celtic princes made themselves masters of Greece, of Egypt and a good
part of Asia, and that their cult remained in those countries. When one
considers with what rapidity the Huns, the Saracens and the Tartars gained
possession of a great part of our continent one will be the less surprised
at this; and it is confirmed by the great number of words in the Greek and
German tongues which correspond so closely. Callimachus, in a hymn in
honour of Apollo, seems to imply that the Celts who attacked the Temple at
Delphi, under their Brennus, or chief, were descendants of the ancient
Titans and Giants who made war on Jupiter and the other gods, that is to
say, on the Princes of Asia and of Greece. It may be that Jupiter is
himself descended from the Titans or Theodons, that is, from the earlier
Celto-Scythian princes; and the material collected by the late Abbé de la
Charmoye in his _Celtic Origins_ conforms to that possibility. Yet there
are opinions on other matters in this work by this learned writer which to
me do not appear probable, especially when he excludes the Germani from the
number of the Celts, not having recalled sufficiently the facts given by
ancient writers and not being sufficiently aware of the relation between
the ancient Gallic and Germanic tongues. Now the so-called Giants, who
wished to scale the heavens, were new Celts who followed the path of their
ancestors; and Jupiter, although of their kindred, as it were, was
constrained to resist them. Just so did the Visigoths established in Gallic
territory resist, together with the Romans, other peoples of Germania and
Scythia, who succeeded them under Attila their leader, he being at that
time in control of the Scythian, Sarmatic and Germanic tribes from the
frontiers of Persia up to the Rhine. But the pleasure one feels when one
thinks to find in the mythologies of the gods some trace of the old history
of fabulous times has perhaps carried me too far, and I know not whether I
shall have been any more successful than Goropius Becanus, Schrieckius,
Herr Rudbeck and the Abbe de la Charmoye.
144. Let us return to Zoroaster, who led us to Oromasdes and Arimanius, the
sources of good and evil, and let us assume that he looked upon them as two
eternal principles opposed to each other, although there is reason to doubt
this assumption. It is thought that Marcion, disciple of Cerdon, was of
this opinion before Manes. M. Bayle acknowledges that these men used
lamentable arguments; but he thinks that they did not sufficiently [214]
recognize their advantages or know how to apply their principal instrument,
which was the difficulty over the origin of evil. He believes that an able
man on their side would have thoroughly embarrassed the orthodox, and it
seems as though he himself, failing any other, wished to undertake a task
so unnecessary in the opinion of many people. 'All the hypotheses' (he
says, _Dictionary_, v., 'Marcion', p. 2039) 'that Christians have
established parry but poorly the blows aimed at them: they all triumph when
they act on the offensive; but they lose their whole advantage when they
have to sustain the attack.' He confesses that the 'Dualists' (as with Mr.
Hyde he calls them), that is, the champions of two principles, would soon
have been routed by _a priori_ reasons, taken from the nature of God; but
he thinks that they triumph in their turn when one comes to the _a
posteriori_ reasons, which are taken from the existence of evil.
145. He treats of the matter with abundant detail in his _Dictionary_,
article 'Manichaeans', p. 2025, which we must examine a little, in order to
throw greater light upon this subject: 'The surest and clearest ideas of
order teach us', he says, 'that a Being who exists through himself, who is
necessary, who is eternal, must be single, infinite, all powerful, and
endowed with all kinds of perfections.' This argument deserves to have been
developed more completely. 'Now it is necessary to see', he goes on, 'if
the phenomena of nature can be conveniently explained by the hypothesis of
one single principle.' I have explained it sufficiently by showing that
there are cases where some disorder in the part is necessary for producing
the greatest order in the whole. But it appears that M. Bayle asks a little
too much: he wishes for a detailed exposition of how evil is connected with
the best possible scheme for the universe. That would be a complete
explanation of the phenomena: but I do not undertake to give it; nor am I
bound to do so, for there is no obligation to do that which is impossible
for us in our existing state. It is sufficient for me to point out that
there is nothing to prevent the connexion of a certain individual evil with
what is the best on the whole. This incomplete explanation, leaving
something to be discovered in the life to come, is sufficient for answering
the objections, though not for a comprehension of the matter.
146. 'The heavens and all the rest of the universe', adds M. Bayle, 'preach
the glory, the power, the oneness of God.' Thence the conclusion [215]
should have been drawn that this is the case (as I have already observed
above) because there is seen in these objects something entire and
isolated, so to speak. Every time we see such a work of God, we find it so
perfect that we must wonder at the contrivance and the beauty thereof: but
when we do not see an entire work, when we only look upon scraps and
fragments, it is no wonder if the good order is not evident there. Our
planetary system composes such an isolated work, which is complete also
when it is taken by itself; each plant, each animal, each man furnishes one
such work, to a certain point of perfection: one recognizes therein the
wonderful contrivance of the author. But the human kind, so far as it is
known to us, is only a fragment, only a small portion of the City of God or
of the republic of Spirits, which has an extent too great for us, and
whereof we know too little, to be able to observe the wonderful order
therein. 'Man alone,' says M. Bayle, 'that masterpiece of his Creator among
things visible, man alone, I say, gives rise to great objections with
regard to the oneness of God.' Claudian made the same observation,
unburdening his heart in these well-known lines:
_Saepe mihi dubiam traxit sententia mentem_, etc.
But the harmony existing in all the rest allows of a strong presumption
that it would exist also in the government of men, and generally in that of
Spirits, if the whole were known to us. One must judge the works of God as
wisely as Socrates judged those of Heraclitus in these words: What I have
understood thereof pleases me; I think that the rest would please me no
less if I understood it.
147. Here is another particular reason for the disorder apparent in that
which concerns man. It is that God, in giving him intelligence, has
presented him with an image of the Divinity. He leaves him to himself, in a
sense, in his small department, _ut Spartam quam nactus est ornet_. He
enters there only in a secret way, for he supplies being, force, life,
reason, without showing himself. It is there that free will plays its game:
and God makes game (so to speak) of these little Gods that he has thought
good to produce, as we make game of children who follow pursuits which we
secretly encourage or hinder according as it pleases us. Thus man is there
like a little god in his own world or _Microcosm_, which he governs [216]
after his own fashion: he sometimes performs wonders therein, and his art
often imitates nature.
_Jupiter in parvo cum cerneret aethera vitro,_
_Risit et ad Superos talia dicta dedit:_
_Huccine mortalis progressa potentia, Divi?_
_Jam meus in fragili luditur orbe labor._
_Jura poli rerumque fidem legesque Deorum_
_Cuncta Syracusius transtulit arte Senex._
_Quid falso insontem tonitru Salmonea miror?_
_Aemula Naturae est parva reperta manus._
But he also commits great errors, because he abandons himself to the
passions, and because God abandons him to his own way. God punishes him
also for such errors, now like a father or tutor, training or chastising
children, now like a just judge, punishing those who forsake him: and evil
comes to pass most frequently when these intelligences or their small
worlds come into collision. Man finds himself the worse for this, in
proportion to his fault; but God, by a wonderful art, turns all the errors
of these little worlds to the greater adornment of his great world. It is
as in those devices of perspective, where certain beautiful designs look
like mere confusion until one restores them to the right angle of vision or
one views them by means of a certain glass or mirror. It is by placing and
using them properly that one makes them serve as adornment for a room. Thus
the apparent deformities of our little worlds combine to become beauties in
the great world, and have nothing in them which is opposed to the oneness
of an infinitely perfect universal principle: on the contrary, they
increase our wonder at the wisdom of him who makes evil serve the greater
good.
148. M. Bayle continues: 'that man is wicked and miserable; that there are
everywhere prisons and hospitals; that history is simply a collection of
the crimes and calamities of the human race.' I think that there is
exaggeration in that: there is incomparably more good than evil in the life
of men, as there are incomparably more houses than prisons. With regard to
virtue and vice, a certain mediocrity prevails. Machiavelli has already
observed that there are few very wicked and very good men, and that this
causes the failure of many great enterprises. I find it a great fault in
historians that they keep their mind on the evil more than on the [217]
good. The chief end of history, as also of poetry, should be to teach
prudence and virtue by examples, and then to display vice in such a way as
to create aversion to it and to prompt men to avoid it, or serve towards
that end.
149. M. Bayle avows: 'that one finds everywhere both moral good and
physical good, some examples of virtue, some examples of happiness, and
that this is what makes the difficulty. For if there were only wicked and
unhappy people', he says, 'there would be no need to resort to the
hypothesis of the two principles.' I wonder that this admirable man could
have evinced so great an inclination towards this opinion of the two
principles; and I am surprised at his not having taken into account that
this romance of human life, which makes the universal history of the human
race, lay fully devised in the divine understanding, with innumerable
others, and that the will of God only decreed its existence because this
sequence of events was to be most in keeping with the rest of things, to
bring forth the best result. And these apparent faults in the whole world,
these spots on a Sun whereof ours is but a ray, rather enhance its beauty
than diminish it, contributing towards that end by obtaining a greater
good. There are in truth two principles, but they are both in God, to wit,
his understanding and his will. The understanding furnishes the principle
of evil, without being sullied by it, without being evil; it represents
natures as they exist in the eternal verities; it contains within it the
reason wherefore evil is permitted: but the will tends only towards good.
Let us add a third principle, namely power; it precedes even understanding
and will, but it operates as the one displays it and as the other requires
it.
150. Some (like Campanella) have called these three perfections of God the
three primordialities. Many have even believed that there was therein a
secret connexion with the Holy Trinity: that power relates to the Father,
that is, to the source of Divinity, wisdom to the Eternal Word, which is
called _logos_ by the most sublime of the Evangelists, and will or Love to
the Holy Spirit. Well-nigh all the expressions or comparisons derived from
the nature of the intelligent substance tend that way.
151. It seems to me that if M. Bayle had taken into account what I have
just said of the principles of things, he would have answered his own
questions, or at the least he would not have continued to ask, as he does
in these which follow: 'If man is the work of a single principle [218]
supremely good, supremely holy, supremely powerful, can he be subject to
diseases, to cold, heat, hunger, thirst, pain, grief? Can he have so many
evil tendencies? Can he commit so many crimes? Can supreme goodness produce
an unhappy creature? Shall not supreme power, united to an infinite
goodness, shower blessings upon its work, and shall it not banish all that
might offend or grieve?' Prudentius in his _Hamartigenia_ presented the
same difficulty:
_Si non vult Deus esse malum, cur non vetat? inquit._
_Non refert auctor fuerit, factorve malorum._
_Anne opera in vitium sceleris pulcherrima verti,_
_Cum possit prohibere, sinat; quod si velit omnes_
_Innocuos agere Omnipotens, ne sancta voluntas_
_Degeneret, facto nec se manus inquinet ullo?_
_Condidit ergo malum Dominus, quod spectat ab alto,_
_Et patitur fierique probat, tanquam ipse crearit._
_Ipse creavit enim, quod si discludere possit,_
_Non abolet, longoque sinit grassarier usu._
But I have already answered that sufficiently. Man is himself the source of
his evils: just as he is, he was in the divine idea. God, prompted by
essential reasons of wisdom, decreed that he should pass into existence
just as he is. M. Bayle would perchance have perceived this origin of evil
in the form in which I demonstrate it here, if he had herein combined the
wisdom of God with his power, his goodness and his holiness. I will add, in
passing, that his _holiness_ is nothing other than the highest degree of
goodness, just as the crime which is its opposite is the worst of all evil.
152. M. Bayle places the Greek philosopher Melissus, champion of the
oneness of the first principle (and perhaps even of the oneness of
substance) in conflict with Zoroaster, as with the first originator of
duality. Zoroaster admits that the hypothesis of Melissus is more
consistent with order and _a priori_ reasons, but he denies its conformity
with experience and _a posteriori_ reasons. 'I surpass you', he said, 'in
the explanation of phenomena, which is the principal mark of a good
system.' But, in my opinion, it is not a very good explanation of a
phenomenon to assign to it an _ad hoc_ principle: to evil, a _principium
maleficum_, to cold, a _primum frigidum_; there is nothing so easy and
nothing so dull. It is well-nigh as if someone were to say that the [219]
Peripatetics surpass the new mathematicians in the explanation of the
phenomena of the stars, by giving them _ad hoc_ intelligences to guide
them. According to that, it is quite easy to conceive why the planets make
their way with such precision; whereas there is need of much geometry and
reflexion to understand how from the gravity of the planets, which bears
them towards the sun, combined with some whirlwind which carries them
along, or with their own motive force, can spring the elliptic movement of
Kepler, which satisfies appearances so well. A man incapable of relishing
deep speculations will at first applaud the Peripatetics and will treat our
mathematicians as dreamers. Some old Galenist will do the same with regard
to the faculties of the Schoolmen: he will admit a chylific, a chymific and
a sanguific, and he will assign one of these _ad hoc_ to each operation; he
will think he has worked wonders, and will laugh at what he will call the
chimeras of the moderns, who claim to explain through mechanical structure
what passes in the body of an animal.
153. The explanation of the cause of evil by a particular principle, _per
principium maleficum_, is of the same nature. Evil needs no such
explanation, any more than do cold and darkness: there is neither _primum
frigidum_ nor principle of darkness. Evil itself comes only from privation;
the positive enters therein only by concomitance, as the active enters by
concomitance into cold. We see that water in freezing is capable of
breaking a gun-barrel wherein it is confined; and yet cold is a certain
privation of force, it only comes from the diminution of a movement which
separates the particles of fluids. When this separating motion becomes
weakened in the water by the cold, the particles of compressed air
concealed in the water collect; and, becoming larger, they become more
capable of acting outwards through their buoyancy. The resistance which the
surfaces of the proportions of air meet in the water, and which opposes the
force exerted by these portions towards dilation, is far less, and
consequently the effect of the air greater, in large air-bubbles than in
small, even though these small bubbles combined should form as great a mass
as the large. For the resistances, that is, the surfaces, increase by the
_square_, and the forces, that is, the contents or the volumes of the
spheres of compressed air, increase by the _cube_, of their diameters. Thus
it is _by accident_ that privation involves action and force. I have
already shown how privation is enough to cause error and malice, and [220]
how God is prompted to permit them, despite that there be no malignity in
him. Evil comes from privation; the positive and action spring from it by
accident, as force springs from cold.
154. The statement that M. Bayle attributes to the Paulicians, p. 2323, is
not conclusive, to wit, that free will must come from two principles, to
the end that it may have power to turn towards good and towards evil: for,
being simple in itself, it should rather have come from a neutral principle
if this argument held good. But free will tends towards good, and if it
meets with evil it is by accident, for the reason that this evil is
concealed beneath the good, and masked, as it were. These words which Ovid
ascribes to Medea,
_Video meliora proboque,_
_Deteriora sequor_,
imply that the morally good is mastered by the agreeably good, which makes
more impression on souls when they are disturbed by the passions.
155. Furthermore, M. Bayle himself supplies Melissus with a good answer;
but a little later he disputes it. Here are his words, p. 2025: 'If
Melissus consults the notions of order, he will answer that man was not
wicked when God made him; he will say that man received from God a happy
state, but that not having followed the light of conscience, which in
accordance with the intention of its author should have guided him along
the path of virtue, he has become wicked, and has deserved that God the
supremely good should make him feel the effects of his anger. It is
therefore not God who is the cause of moral evil: but he is the cause of
physical evil, that is, of the punishment of moral evil. And this
punishment, far from being incompatible with the supremely good principle,
of necessity emanates from that one of its attributes, I mean its justice,
which is not less essential to it than its goodness. This answer, the most
reasonable that Melissus can give, is fundamentally good and sound, but it
may be disputed by something more specious and more dazzling. For indeed
Zoroaster objects that the infinitely good principle ought to have created
man not only without actual evil, but also without the inclination towards
evil; that God, having foreseen sin with all its consequences, ought to
have prevented it; that he ought to have impelled man to moral good, and
not to have allowed him any force for tending towards crime.' That is quite
easy to say, but it is not practicable if one follows the principles [221]
of order: it could not have been accomplished without perpetual miracles.
Ignorance, error and malice follow one another naturally in animals made as
we are: should this species, then, have been missing in the universe? I
have no doubt but that it is too important there, despite all its
weaknesses, for God to have consented to its abolition.
156. M. Bayle, in the article entitled 'Paulicians' inserted by him in his
_Dictionary_, follows up the pronouncements he made in the article on the
Manichaeans. According to him (p. 2330, lit. H) the orthodox seem to admit
two first principles, in making the devil the originator of sin. M. Becker,
a former minister of Amsterdam, author of the book entitled _The World
Bewitched_, has made use of this idea in order to demonstrate that one
should not assign such power and authority to the Devil as would allow of
his comparison with God. Therein he is right: but he pushes the conclusions
too far. And the author of the book entitled [Greek: Apokatastasis Pantôn]
believes that if the Devil had never been vanquished and despoiled, if he
had always kept his prey, if the title of invincible had belonged to him,
that would have done injury to the glory of God. But it is a poor advantage
to keep those whom one has led astray in order to share their punishment
for ever. And as for the cause of evil, it is true that the Devil is the
author of sin. But the origin of sin comes from farther away, its source is
in the original imperfection of creatures: that renders them capable of
sinning, and there are circumstances in the sequence of things which cause
this power to evince itself in action.
157. The devils were angels like the rest before their fall, and it is
thought that their leader was one of the chief among angels; but Scripture
is not explicit enough on that point. The passage of the Apocalypse that
speaks of the struggle with the Dragon, as of a vision, leaves much in
doubt, and does not sufficiently develop a subject which by the other
sacred writers is hardly mentioned. It is not in place here to enter into
this discussion, and one must still admit that the common opinion agrees
best with the sacred text. M. Bayle examines some replies of St. Basil, of
Lactantius and others on the origin of evil. As, however, they are
concerned with physical evil, I postpone discussion thereof, and I will
proceed with the examination of the difficulties over the moral cause of
moral evil, which arise in several passages of the works of our gifted
author.
[222]
158. He disputes the _permission_ of this evil, he would wish one to admit
that God _wills_ it. He quotes these words of Calvin (on Genesis, ch. 3):
'The ears of some are offended when one says that God willed it. But I ask
you, what else is the permission of him who is entitled to forbid, or
rather who has the thing in his own hands, but an act of will?' M. Bayle
explains these words of Calvin, and those which precede them, as if he
admitted that God willed the fall of Adam, not in so far as it was a crime,
but under some other conception that is unknown to us. He quotes casuists
who are somewhat lax, who say that a son can desire the death of his
father, not in so far as it is an evil for himself but in so far as it is a
good for his heirs _(Reply to the Questions of a Provincial_, ch. 147, p.
850). It seems to me that Calvin only says that God willed man's fall for
some reason unknown to us. In the main, when it is a question of a decisive
will, that is, of a decree, these distinctions are useless: one wills the
action with all its qualities, if it is true that one wills it. But when it
is a crime, God can only will the permission of it: the crime is neither an
end nor a means, it is only a _conditio sine qua non_; thus it is not the
object of a direct will, as I have already demonstrated above. God cannot
prevent it without acting against what he owes to himself, without doing
something that would be worse than the crime of man, without violating the
rule of the best; and that would be to destroy divinity, as I have already
observed. God is therefore bound by a moral necessity, which is in himself,
to permit moral evil in creatures. There is precisely the case wherein the
will of a wise mind is only permissive. I have already said this: he is
bound to permit the crime of others when he cannot prevent it without
himself failing in that which he owes to himself.
159. 'But among all these infinite combinations', says M. Bayle (p. 853),
'it pleased God to choose one wherein Adam was to sin, and by his decree he
made it, in preference to all the others, the plan that should come to
pass.' Very good; that is speaking my language; so long as one applies it
to the combinations which compose the whole universe. 'You will therefore
never make us understand', he adds, 'how God did not will that Eve and Adam
should sin, since he rejected all the combinations wherein they would not
have sinned.' But the thing is in general very easy to understand, from all
that I have just said. This combination that makes the whole universe is
the best; God therefore could not refrain from choosing it without [223]
incurring a lapse, and rather than incur such, a thing altogether
inappropriate to him, he permits the lapse or the sin of man which is
involved in this combination.
160. M. Jacquelot, with other able men, does not differ in opinion from me,
when for example he says, p. 186 of his treatise on the _Conformity of
Faith with Reason_: 'Those who are puzzled by these difficulties seem to be
too limited in their outlook, and to wish to reduce all God's designs to
their own interests. When God formed the universe, his whole prospect was
himself and his own glory, so that if we had knowledge of all creatures, of
their diverse combinations and of their different relations, we should
understand without difficulty that the universe corresponds perfectly to
the infinite wisdom of the Almighty.' He says elsewhere (p. 232):
'Supposing the impossible, that God could not prevent the wrong use of free
will without destroying it, it will be agreed that since his wisdom and his
glory determined him to form free creatures this powerful reason must have
prevailed over the grievous consequences which their freedom might have.' I
have endeavoured to develop this still further through _the reason of the
best and the moral necessity_ which led God to make this choice, despite
the sin of some creatures which is involved therein. I think that I have
cut down to the root of the difficulty; nevertheless I am well pleased, for
the sake of throwing more light on the matter, to apply my principle of
solution to the peculiar difficulties of M. Bayle.
161. Here is one, set forth in these terms (ch. 148, p. 856): 'Would it in
a prince be a mark of his kindness: 1. To give to a hundred messengers as
much money as is needed for a journey of two hundred leagues? 2. To promise
a recompense to all those who should finish the journey without having
borrowed anything, and to threaten with imprisonment all those whom their
money should not have sufficed? 3. To make choice of a hundred persons, of
whom he would know for certain that there were but two who should earn the
recompense, the ninety-eight others being destined to find on the way
either a mistress or a gamester or some other thing which would make them
incur expenses, and which he would himself have been at pains to dispose in
certain places along their path? 4. To imprison actually ninety-eight of
these messengers on the moment of their return? Is it not abundantly
evident that he would have no kindness for them, and that on the contrary
he would intend for them, not the proposed recompense, but prison? [224]
They would deserve it, certainly; but he who had wished them to deserve it
and placed them in the sure way towards deserving it, should he be worthy
of being called kind, on the pretext that he had recompensed the two
others?' It would doubtless not be on that account that he earned the title
of 'kind'. Yet other circumstances may contribute, which would avail to
render him worthy of praise for having employed this artifice in order to
know those people, and to make trial of them; just as Gideon made use of
some extraordinary means of choosing the most valiant and the least
squeamish among his soldiers. And even if the prince were to know already
the disposition of all these messengers, may he not put them to this test
in order to make them known also to the others? Even though these reasons
be not applicable to God, they make it clear, nevertheless, that an action
like that of this prince may appear preposterous when it is detached from
the circumstances indicating its cause. All the more must one deem that God
has acted well, and that we should see this if we fully knew of all that he
has done.
162. M. Descartes, in a letter to the Princess Elizabeth (vol. 1, letter
10) has made use of another comparison to reconcile human freedom with the
omnipotence of God. 'He imagines a monarch who has forbidden duels, and
who, knowing for certain that two noblemen, if they meet, will fight, takes
sure steps to bring about their meeting. They meet indeed, they fight:
their disobedience of the law is an effect of their free will, they are
punishable. What a king can do in such a case (he adds) concerning some
free actions of his subjects, God, who has infinite foreknowledge and
power, certainly does concerning all those of men. Before he sent us into
this world he knew exactly what all the tendencies of our will would be: he
has endued us therewith, he also has disposed all other things that are
outside us, to cause such and such objects to present themselves to our
senses at such and such a time. He knew that as a result of this our free
will would determine us toward some particular thing, and he has willed it
thus; but he has not for that willed to constrain our free will thereto. In
this king one may distinguish two different degrees of will, the one
whereby he willed that these noblemen should fight, since he brought about
their meeting, and the other whereby he did not will it, since he forbade
duels. Even so theologians distinguish in God an absolute and independent
will, whereby he wills that all things be done just as they are done, [225]
and another which is relative, and which concerns the merit or demerit of
men, whereby he wills that his Laws be obeyed' (Descartes, letter 10 of
vol. 1, pp. 51, 52. Compare with that the quotation made by M. Arnauld,
vol. 2, p. 288 _et seqq_. of his _Reflexions on the System of Malebranche_,
from Thomas Aquinas, on the antecedent and consequent will of God).
163. Here is M. Bayle's reply to that (_Reply to the Questions of a
Provincial_, ch. 154, p. 943): 'This great philosopher is much mistaken, it
seems to me. There would not be in this monarch any degree of will, either
small or great, that these two noblemen should obey the law, and not fight.
He would will entirely and solely that they should fight. That would not
exculpate them, they would only follow their passion, they would be unaware
that they conformed to the will of their sovereign: but he would be in
truth the moral cause of their encounter, and he would not more entirely
wish it supposing he were to inspire them with the desire or to give them
the order for it. Imagine to yourself two princes each of whom wishes his
eldest son to poison himself. One employs constraint, the other contents
himself with secretly causing a grief that he knows will be sufficient to
induce his son to poison himself. Will you be doubtful whether the will of
the latter is less complete than the will of the former? M. Descartes is
therefore assuming an unreal fact and does not at all solve the
difficulty.'
164. One must confess that M. Descartes speaks somewhat crudely of the will
of God in regard to evil in saying not only that God knew that our free
will would determine us toward some particular thing, but also _that he
also wished it_, albeit he did not will to constrain the will thereto. He
speaks no less harshly in the eighth letter of the same volume, saying that
not the slightest thought enters into the mind of a man which God does not
_will_, and has not willed from all eternity, to enter there. Calvin never
said anything harsher; and all that can only be excused if it is to be
understood of a permissive will. M. Descartes' solution amounts to the
distinction between the will expressed in the sign and the will expressive
of the good pleasure (_inter voluntatem signi et beneplaciti_) which the
moderns have taken from the Schoolmen as regards the terms, but to which
they have given a meaning not usual among the ancients. It is true that God
may command something and yet not will that it be done, as when he
commanded Abraham to sacrifice his son: he willed the obedience, and he did
not will the action. But when God commands the virtuous action and [226]
forbids the sin, he wills indeed that which he ordains, but it is only by
an antecedent will, as I have explained more than once.
165. M. Descartes' comparison is therefore not satisfactory; but it may be
made so. One must make some change in the facts, inventing some reason to
oblige the prince to cause or permit the two enemies to meet. They must,
for instance, be together in the army or in other obligatory functions, a
circumstance the prince himself cannot hinder without endangering his
State. For example, the absence of either of them might be responsible for
the disappearance of innumerable persons of his party from the army or
cause grumbling among the soldiers and give rise to some great disturbance.
In this case, therefore, one may say that the prince does not will the
duel: he knows of it, but he permits it notwithstanding, for he prefers
permitting the sin of others to committing one himself. Thus this corrected
comparison may serve, provided that one observe the difference between God
and the prince. The prince is forced into this permission by his
powerlessness; a more powerful monarch would have no need of all these
considerations; but God, who has power to do all that is possible, only
permits sin because it is absolutely impossible to anyone at all to do
better. The prince's action is peradventure not free from sorrow and
regret. This regret is due to his imperfection, of which he is sensible;
therein lies displeasure. God is incapable of such a feeling and finds,
moreover, no cause therefor; he is infinitely conscious of his own
perfection, and it may even be said that the imperfection in creatures
taken individually changes for him into perfection in relation to the
whole, and that it is an added glory for the Creator. What more can one
wish, when one possesses a boundless wisdom and when one is as powerful as
one is wise; when one can do all and when one has the best?