of labour would occasion a reduction of the wages allowed for it, we may
then reasonably ask, if this result would not favour commerce, and
contribute, in some respect, to increase the political strength?
Undoubtedly you may consider under this point of view, the diminution of
the reward of industry; but the political strength being always a
relative idea, and derived from comparisons with other states, this
strength can never be augmented or diminished by a circumstance common
to all the countries of Europe. Were a barbarous ambition to abolish in
one state the Sabbath, the abolition would probably procure it a degree
of superiority, if it was the only one that adopted such a change; but
as soon as others followed their example, the advantage would disappear.
However, the same arguments ought to serve to convince us, that those
countries, where the intervals of inaction occur oftener, have
necessarily a political disadvantage, with regard to others, where
Sunday and a few solemn feasts are the only days of rest prescribed by
government.
We may conclude from these observations, that so far from finding fault
with religion for appointing a day of rest, devoted every week to public
worship, we ought to acknowledge with pleasure, that such an institution
is a benevolent act, extended to the most numerous class of the
inhabitants of the earth, the most deserving our consideration and
protection; from which we require so much, and return so little: towards
that unfortunate class, whose youth and maturity the rich profit by, and
abandon them when the hour is come, when they have no more strength left
but to enable them to pray and weep.
CHAP. X.
_An Observation on a particular Circumstance of public Worship._
It is not sufficient, that sovereigns are persuaded of the influence of
religion on the morality and happiness of men; they ought to make use of
proper means to maintain this salutary action; and, of course, every
part of public worship becomes of the greatest importance. Educated in a
religion, thought by some to approach nearer the first ideas of
christianity, yet as it has adopted several principles by no means
consonant with the Catholic faith, it would be unwise in me to discuss
any of the questions which divide the two churches; and I should do it
without any good accruing from it, so much are we disposed to refer to
early prejudices, the ideas which are most intimately blended with the
sentiments and feeling of a man; we like to take a general view, and
this method agrees with our indolence; but it leads us often astray. I
think, however, that the minds of the people are now sufficiently
enlightened, to permit me to advise the superiors of both church and
state, to examine attentively, if it is not full time to make more use
of the vulgar tongue, and if we are not warned, by the present depravity
of morals, to alter the manner of performing divine service in this
respect.
It is only during an interval of the grand mass that the priest
addresses to country people some words of exhortation in their own
language; it was natural to consider this moment as the most proper to
dispose the mind to respect and attention; but perhaps, even the pomp of
an august ceremony, by attracting strongly the imagination, withdraws
the generality from the importance of the other parts of divine worship;
and it frequently happens in country places, that many people go out of
the church during the sermon, and return at the moment of consecration.
I think also, that public prayers should always be in the vulgar tongue,
and they might easily be made interesting and affecting, as there are
not any religious discourses which sympathize more with human weakness;
and as our wants and anxieties may be made use of to raise us towards
the Supreme Being, the best of all bands might be chosen to win the
multitude.
I must observe besides, that part of the country people, especially in
harvest time, and other seasons, when the husbandman is particularly
busy, assist only at early mass, and then they see but a part of the
religious ceremonies[4]. And, if the practice and liberty of working on
a Sunday was more extended, the inhabitants of the country, still more
confined to the first mass, would hear neither prayers nor instructive
discourses in their own language during the whole year.
Certainly there must be something altered in these religious
institutions in order to make them more efficaciously serve to support
morality, and comfort the most numerous class of the human race. Country
people, whose labour produces our wealth, ought to be taken care of with
paternal anxiety; and since they are not exposed to those disorderly
passions which find nourishment in a metropolis; since mild and prudent
means still suffice to maintain them in the habit of duty; both the
superiors in church and state have to answer, in some measure, for the
corruption of their manners and dispositions.
CHAP. XI.
_That the single Idea of a God is a sufficient Support of Morality._
After having shown that morality has need of a supernatural support, you
have reason to expect, that I should explain the intimate and immediate
relation which unites religion to the love of virtue, and the observance
of order. I will endeavour, then, to discuss this important question;
and in order to arrive at the truth, I shall follow first the course of
those simple sentiments and natural thoughts, which guide the mind and
the heart of man, in every climate and country under heaven.
It is easy to unite all the moral legislation, and the entire system of
our duties, by means only of the idea of a God.
The universe, notwithstanding its magnificence and its immensity, would
be a mere nothing, if its Supreme Author had not peopled it with
intelligent beings, capable of contemplating so many wonders, and of
receiving happiness from them; but the faculties with which we are
endowed, consciousness of possessing them, and the liberty to act, all
announce to us that we are united to a grand combination, that we have a
part to take on the vast stage of the world.
The most simple reason, that which resembles instinct, would have been
sufficient to enable us to take care of the body, and to have concentred
us in ourselves; more would not have been necessary for those who have
so little to do. Thus, when I see that the mind is susceptible of
continual improvement, when I see that men enjoy the power of assisting
each other, and of communicating their ideas, in a manner so much
superior to other animals; when I fix my attention on our social
dispositions, and on all the relative qualities which compose our
nature, I cannot avoid thinking, that we have a plan of conduct to
follow towards others, and that in our pilgrimage on earth we must be
circumspect, having obstacles to conquer, sacrifices to make, and
obligations to fulfil.
Men then appear to be led to religion by the most excellent gifts of
nature, and by all that they have in them of the sublime; but we ought
to remark, as a singular resemblance, that their wants also, and their
extreme weakness, lead them to the same object.
Whatever may be my emotions, when I reflect on the present imperious
laws to which I am obliged to submit, and when I recal to mind the
grandeur and magnificence which I have been a witness of, I raise
continually my soul towards the Sovereign Director of events, and am led
by instinct, as well as by a rational sentiment, to address my prayers
to Him. It appears to the unfortunate, when they view so many wonders
which their understanding cannot grasp, that so little is wanting to
guard them from the dangers which threaten them, they implore the
commiseration of Him whose formidable power bursts from all sides. But,
while they admire and adore, they must imitate His perfections, and not
expect mercy when they show none. Purity of heart only can render an
intercourse with the Supreme Being interesting; and prayers are merely a
solemn kind of mockery, when they do not produce virtue and forbearance,
when they do not render us kindly affected to each other; our very state
of dependence, our wants and weaknesses, should bind us to those beings
who equally share the blessings so liberally bestowed, and have the same
evils to endure. Thus discontent, the fear of futurity, the anxiety
caused by misfortunes, all the sentiments, which engage men to disturb
social order, take another character, or are at least sensibly modified;
when, from their first suffering, they can elevate their wishes to God,
but dare not do it, with a heart sullied by criminal intentions.
It is not only prayer which leads us to religion; another communication
with the Supreme Being, gratitude, produces the same effect. A man,
persuaded of the existence of a sovereign power, and who gladly connects
with the divine protection his success and happiness, feels, at the same
time, a desire to express his gratitude; and not being able to do any
thing for him who bestows all, he seeks to form an idea of the
perfections of that Supreme Being, in order to comprehend the system of
conduct most conformable to his attributes. At first, what reflections
possess our mind, what emotions agitate our souls, when we contemplate
the universe? When we respectfully admire that magnificent harmony,
which is the incomprehensible result of an innumerable multitude of
different powers: struck with this vast whole, where we discover an
agreement so perfect, how is it possible for us to avoid considering
order as a distinct mark of the wisdom and of the design of Omnipotence?
And how is it possible for us not to think, that we render him the most
worthy homage, at the time we make use of the free intelligence which he
has endowed us with. Then in the composition of a social structure, a
work which has been entrusted to us, we shall try to penetrate the ideas
of wisdom and order, of which all nature presents such a grand example;
then, in establishing the relations which unite men, we shall carefully
study the laws of moral order, and we shall find them all founded on the
reciprocation of duties, which submit to a regular movement different
jarring personal interests. In short, the idea of a God, Creator,
Regenerator, and Preserver of the Universe, by invariable laws, and by a
train of the same causes and the same effects, seems to call us to the
conception of a universal morality, which, in imitation of the unknown
springs of the natural world, may be as the necessary tie of this
succession of intelligent beings, who always, with the same passions,
come to pass and repass on the earth, to seek, or to fly, to assist, or
to hurt each other, according to the strength or the weakness of the
knot which unites them, and according to the wisdom or inconsistency of
the principles which direct their opinions.
The attentive study of man and of his nature ought to contribute to
confirm in us the idea which we have just pointed out. We cannot, in
fact, consider the prodigious difference which exists between the minds
and characters of men; we cannot fix our attention on the length to
which this difference may be carried, by the perfectibility of which
they are susceptible; we cannot, in short, reflect on a like
constitution, without being induced to think, that the counterpoise of
these extraordinary means of force and usurpation must proceed from
reason, from that singular authority which only can establish, between
men, relations of justice and convenience, proper to maintain an
equilibrium and harmony in the midst of so many disparities: it is thus,
that respect for morality seems evidently to make a part of the general
view and primitive idea of the Supreme Disposer of the universe. And
what pleasure shall we not find in the persuasion, that the cultivation
of virtue, that the observance of order, offers us the means of pleasing
our Divine Benefactor! It is by that alone that we can hope to concur,
however feebly, in the execution of his grand designs; and in the centre
of so many blessings, surrounded by so many signs of a particular
protection, how highly ought we to value this means of communication
with the Author of our existence? Thus, then, the homage of adoration
and gratitude which we render to the Deity, leads us to a sentiment of
respect for the laws of morality; and this sentiment, in its turn,
serves continually to maintain in us the idea of a Supreme Being.
Independent of the reflections which we have just presented, morality,
considered in all its extent, has need of being strengthened by this
disposition of the soul, which makes us interested in the happiness of
others; and it is besides, in one of the most glorious perfections of
the Deity, that we find the first model of this precious sentiment. Yes,
we cannot deny it: either our existence proceeds from no cause, or we
owe it to the goodness of the Supreme Being. Life, some will say,
undoubtedly is a mixture of pains and pleasures: but, if we are candid
we shall confess, that those moments, when it ceases to appear to us a
benefit, do not often occur in life: in youth, existence is thought the
greatest blessing, and the other seasons of life offer pleasures less
animated, certainly, but which agree better with the progress of our
understanding, and the increase of our experience.
It is true, that in order to free ourselves from a sentiment of
gratitude, we often think that we would not accept of a renewal of life,
on condition of our running over a second time our career, and returning
step by step in the same track. But we should consider, that we do not
fix a just value on the benefits which we have received; for when we
take a retrospective view of life, we see it stripped of its two
principal ornaments, curiosity and hope; and it is not in this state
that it was given to us, and that we have enjoyed it.
It is, perhaps, not in our power to replace ourselves, by contemplation,
in the situation where the imagination made our chief pleasure, a slight
breath has easily effaced it from our memory: it is evident that we
enjoy life, because we look forward with affright to the moment when we
shall be forced to renounce it; but, as this happiness is composed of
present pleasures, and those which we anticipate, we cease to be good
judges of the value of life, when this future prospect is not presented
to our eyes, but under the form of the past; for we know not how to
appreciate, with a languishing recollection, that which we have loved in
the moment of hope.
Physical evils are not either the end or the condition of our nature,
they are its accidents: the happiness of infancy, which shows in its
primitive purity the works of the Deity, visibly point out the goodness
of the Supreme Being; and how can we avoid believing, that we owe our
origin to a benevolent design, since it is a desire of happiness, which
has been given to serve as the motive of all our actions? We should
indeed speak well of life, if we had not corrupted its comforts by
artificial sentiments, which we have substituted instead of nature; if
we had not submitted so many realities to pride and vanity; if, instead
of assisting each other to be happy, we had not employed our thoughts to
make others submit to us. Undoubtedly there are some sufferings annexed
to our existence, as in the natural world there are apparent defects.
Let us employ our minds on the most exalted subjects, and we shall no
longer be a prey to envy and discontent.
It is on the consideration of detached events; it is in some particular
circumstances, that we raise doubts about the goodness of God; but we
immediately discern it when we compare particulars which wound us, with
the great whole of which they make a part; we discover then, that the
misfortunes which we are so quickly offended with are a simple appendage
of a general system, where all the characters of a beneficent
intelligence are evidently traced. It is necessary then to view the
whole of life to discover the intention of the author of nature; and in
meditating in this manner, we shall return always to a sentiment of
respect and gratitude. This simple idea is very extensive in its
application; it seems to me, above all, that it serves to console us
under the ills of life; the man who is penetrated by it can say to
himself, the transitory evil to which I am subject, is perhaps one of
the inevitable effects of this universal harmony, the most noble and the
most extensive of all conceptions. Thus, in the moments when I bemoan my
fate, I ought not to think myself forsaken, I ought not to accuse Him,
whose infinite wisdom is present to my view, Him whose general laws have
so often appeared to me a visible expression of real goodness.
It is in vain, some will say, it is in vain that you would wish to make
us attend to these considerations; we only remark, that our earthly
happiness is at least inferior to that which our imagination so readily
forms the picture of; and we do not perceive, in such a disposition, the
union of perfections which ought to be ascribed to the Supreme Being.
This objection is presented under different forms in the writings of all
the enemies to religion; and they have drawn consequences, sometimes
against the goodness of God, his power, his wisdom, and justice. It is
necessary, clearly to explain this difficulty, to be in a state to form
to ourselves an idea of the perfection of an Infinite Being; but in all
our attempts, we only carry to the extreme every quality which we
conceive; instead of that, perfection in the works of the Creator,
probably consists in a kind of gradation and harmony, the secret of
which we cannot either embrace, or penetrate; and we ought still more to
be on our guard, when we form any conception of the essence of the
Deity, as by confining ourselves solely to reconcile his sovereign power
with his perfect goodness, we should never fix the boundary when these
two properties will be in an equilibrium: for after having exhausted
every supposition, we might still ask, why the number of rational beings
is not more extended? We might ask, why every grain of sand is not one
of those beings? why there is not a number equal to that infinite
divisibility of which we form the idea? In short, from extreme to
extreme, and always in arguing on the sovereign power, the least
inanimate atom, the least void in nature, would appear a boundary to the
goodness of the Supreme Being. We see then to what a point we may
wander, when we abandon common sense for the vague excursions of a
metaphysical spirit.
I think, if no other proofs could be found, the power of God would be
sufficient to demonstrate his goodness; for this power informs us every
instant, that if the Supreme Ruler of the World had intended the misery
of rational beings, he would have had, to fulfil this intention, means
as rapid as numerous. He needed not have created worlds; nor have made
them so convenient and beautiful; a terrific gulph, and eternal darkness
might have been sufficient to collect together those unfortunate beings,
and make them feel their misery. Let us not dwell on these gloomy
subjects, let us follow a just emotion of gratitude; we shall be eager
then to render homage to that indelible character of love and goodness
which we see stamped on all nature. An unknown power opens our eyes to
the light, and permits us to view the wonders of the universe: it
awakens in us those enchanting sensations which first point out the
charms of life; it enriches us with that intellectual gift which
re-assembles round us past ages, and the time to come; it confers, in an
early hour, an empire, by endowing us with those two sublime faculties,
will and liberty; in short, it renders us sensible to the real pleasure
of loving and being beloved; and when, by the effect of a general plan,
of which we have but an imperfect conception, it spreads here and there
some difficulties in the road of life; it seems to wish to soften them,
by showing us always the future through the enchanting medium of the
imagination. Could it be then without any interest or goodness, that
this magnificent system was conceived, and preserved by so many superb
demonstrations of wisdom and power? What should we be in the sight of
the Eternal, if he did not love us? We do not adorn his majestic
universe, or lend to the dawn its magnificent colours; neither have we
covered the earth with a verdant carpet, or bid the celestial bodies
revolve in the immense expanse; he asked not counsel of us—we should be
nothing in his eyes, if he was indifferent to our gratitude, and if he
took not any pleasure in the happiness of his creatures.
In short, were we to turn our attention from so many striking proofs of
the goodness of God; were they to be effaced from our memory, we should
still find, in the recesses of our heart, a sufficient evidence of this
comfortable truth, we should perceive that we are good and affectionate,
when not perverted by passion; and we should be led to think, that such
an inclination in beings who have received every thing, must necessarily
be the seal of their Divine Author. In order to exalt this sentiment, we
must refer it continually to the idea of a Supreme Being; for there is,
we doubt not, a correspondence of instinct and reflection between our
virtue and the perfections of him who is the origin of all things; and
provided we do not resist our natural emotions, we shall perceive from
those very perfections all that is sufficient to excite our worship and
adoration; above all, whatever is necessary to serve as an example for
our conduct, and to afford principles of morality.
I ought now to examine some important objections; for why should I fear
to present them? a love for systems and opinions ought not to exist, in
treating a subject on which so many have expatiated, and which belongs
equally to all men. Though we are allowed, when seeking truth eagerly,
to wish to find it united to the sentiments which form our happiness,
and the principles which are the foundation of public order.
We admit, say some, that there are many perfections peculiar to the
Supreme Being, the study and knowledge of which ought to serve to
sustain the laws of morality; but one of the essential properties of the
divine essence oversets the whole structure, it is prescience: for, as
God knows beforehand what we are to do, it follows, that all our actions
are irrevocably determined; and thus man is not free. And, if such is
his condition, he deserves neither praise nor censure; he has no means
of pleasing or displeasing the Supreme Being, and the ideas of good and
evil, of virtue and vice, are absolutely chimerical. I shall, at first,
make a very simple reply to this objection, but a very decisive one: it
is that, if against appearances you should happen to persuade me, that
there now exists an absolute contradiction between the liberty of man
and the prescience of the Deity, it is on the nature and extent of this
prescience that I shall raise my doubts; for, forced to choose, I should
rather mistrust the judgment of my own mind, than that of an internal
persuasion. It is by these same considerations, that it will always be
impossible to prove to men that they are not free: we could only succeed
with the assistance of reasoning, and reasoning being already a
beginning of art, a kind of exterior combination of reflections, this
means, in some measure out of us, would not have power to eradicate a
sentiment which seems the first that we are conscious of.
We soon discover the limits of our faculties, in the efforts which we
make to acquire a just idea of the divine prescience: we can very well
suppose, that God foresees with certainty what we only conjecture about,
and in extending without end the bounds which occur to our mind, we
shall proportion in our imagination, the knowledge of the Creator to the
immensity of space, and to the infinity of time; but beyond these vague
ideas we shall err in all our speculations. How is it possible, that
men, who know not even the nature of their own souls, should be able to
determine the nature of prescience? How is it possible, that they can
know whether this prescience is the effect of a rapid calculation of
him, who embraces at one glance the relation and effects of every moral
and natural cause? how can they discern, whether this prescience, in an
Infinite Being, is distinct from simple knowledge? How can they know
whether that Being, by a property beyond our conception, does not exist
before and after events, whether he is not, in some manner, the
intellectual time, and whether our divisions of years and ages, would
not disappear before his immoveable existence and eternal duration.