sudden acquisition of all the means proper to communicate ideas; and to
the prompt discoveries of the other properties of our mind; but several
of these properties constitute, in such an essential manner, the essence
of the soul, that we cannot, even in imagination, separate them, any
more than we can detach action from will, and will from thought. There
are some spiritual faculties, and those the most wonderful, which we
cannot define, and which we should not have even supposed to exist had
we not possessed them; and if it had been possible to have known them
before we were endowed with them, the inventors of systems would have
pointed out this astonishing means, as the only one applicable to the
composition of the admirable harmony of the universe.
We shall be led to the same reflections, when ceasing to expatiate on
the greatest wonders of our nature, we bound ourselves to consider the
human mind at the moment when its action may be perceived. To render
this observation clearer, let us follow a man of genius in the course of
his labours, and we shall see him at once embrace a multitude of ideas,
compare them, notwithstanding their distance, and form from such a
mixture a distinct result proper to direct his public or private
conduct; let us consider him extending and multiplying these first
combinations, and connecting them, by an invisible web, to some
scattered points which his imagination has fixed in the vast regions of
futurity; with the assistance of these magic succours we see him
approaching the time which does not yet exist; but we see him, in his
career, aided by accumulated knowledge, more subtle than the rays of the
sun and yet separated, with an admirable order; more fleet and dispersed
than the light vapours of the morning, and still subject to the will of
that inconceivable power, which, under the name of memory, heaps up the
acquisitions of the mind, in order to assist it afterwards in its new
acquirements: but let us examine still further this man of genius, when
he deposits, by means of writing, his different reflections; and let us
ask, how he knows quickly, that an idea is new, and that a style has an
original turn? Let us again enquire, how, in order to form such a
judgment, he makes with celerity a recapitulation of the thoughts and
images employed by others, to illustrate the subjects they have treated,
whilst years and ages were rolling away; in short, let every one,
according to his strength, try to penetrate into these mysterious
beauties of the human understanding; and let him enquire afterwards
about the impression which he receives from a like meditation. There is,
perhaps, as great a difference, if I may be allowed to say so, between
the most perfect vegetable and the human mind, as between it and the
Deity: to extend this idea, we have only to suppose, that in the
immensity which surrounds us, there exists a gradation equal to that we
have perceived in the little space we are permitted to inspect.
The author of a celebrated work accuses men of presumption, because,
when they endeavour to trace the first principle of things, by comparing
their own faculties with it, they seem to think that they approach it.
But, what other part should we be able to take, when we are called to
reason and to judge? It is not sufficient that the idea of the Supreme
Being may be metaphysical; it is necessary further, some will argue,
that we even try to render it abstract, by removing it out of our
imagination, and that we seek for, in our judgment and opinions, a
support which may be in a manner absent from ourselves, and absolutely
foreign to our nature. All this cannot be understood: we confess that we
have not sufficient strength to know the essence and perfection of God,
but giving way to abstraction, we extinguish our natural light, and
deprive ourselves of the few means we have to obtain this knowledge; we
can only be acquainted with unknown things by the help of those we know:
we shall be led astray, if we are obliged to take another road; and
modern philosophers often seek to attack intimate sentiments by
arbitrary ideas, of which an imagination the most capricious is the only
foundation.
It will then always be surprizing, that in our contemplations and habits
of thinking, the wisdom of the design, the harmony of the whole, and the
perfection of parts, are manifest traces of intelligence; and yet that
we should renounce, suddenly, this manner of feeling and judging, in
order to attribute the formation of the universe to the effect of
chance, or the eternal laws of blind necessity; and is it possible, that
we can deduce the same consequences from an admirable order, as from
wild confusion? Facts so different, principles so contrary, should not
lead to the same conclusion; the magnificent system of the universe
ought to have some weight, when we conjecture about its origin; and it
would be difficult to persuade us, that in investigating the most
exalted truths, we ought to consider all the knowledge we acquire by the
view of nature as merely indifferent. Men are carried very far, when
they reject the arguments drawn from final causes; it is not only a
single thought they would destroy, it is the source of all our knowledge
they would dry up.
Men insensibly cease to perceive a connexion between the existence of a
God, and the different miracles with which we are surrounded; but all
would be changed, if God exhibited the numerous acts of his power
successively, instead of displaying them all at once; our imagination,
animated by such a movement, would rise to the idea of a Supreme Being;
it is then, because an accumulation of wonders aggrandizes the universe;
it is because a harmony, not to be equalled, seems to convert an
infinity of parts into an admirable whole; and that profound wisdom
maintains it in an immutable equilibrium; it is, in short, because
insensible gradations and delicate shades render still more perfect the
wonders of nature, that men are less struck with astonishment, or lost
in adoration.
We want, say you, new phœnomena to determine our persuasion: do you
forget, that all which is offered to our view already surpasses our
understanding? If the least miracle was to be effected before you, you
would be ready to bend your proud reason; but because the most grand and
wonderful, which the imagination itself can form an idea of, has
preceded your existence, you receive no impression from it, all appears
simple to you, all necessary. But, the reality of the wonders of the
universe has nothing to do with the instant you are allowed to
contemplate them: your pilgrimage on earth, is it not a period
imperceptible in the midst of eternity? admiration, surprise, and all
the affections of which man is susceptible, do not change the nature of
the phœnomena which surround him; and his intelligence reflects but a
very small part of the wonders of the universe.
We have no need of a revolution in the order of nature, to discover the
power of its author; the fibres of a blade of grass confound our
intelligence, and when we have grown old in study and observation, we
continually discover new objects, which we have not investigated, and
perceive new relations; we are ever in the midst of unknown things and
incomprehensible secrets.
However, supposing, for a moment, the existence of extraordinary
miracles which we should be impressed with; it is easy to conceive, that
these miracles would not have on men the influence we presume; for if
they were frequent, and if they happened only at regular periods, their
first impression, would slowly be weakened, and, at last, men would
range them in the class of the successive movements of eternal matter.
But if, on the contrary, there was a long interval between these
miracles, the generations who succeeded the actual witnesses of them
would accuse their ancestors of credulity, or contest the truth of those
traditions, which transmitted the account of a revolution contrary to
the common course of nature.
Some may still say, that, in order to render manifest the existence of
the Supreme Being, it would be necessary that men were punctually
answered, when they address their prayers; but the influence of our
wishes upon events, if this influence was habitual and general, would it
be sufficient to change the opinion of those who see, with indifference,
that innumerable multitude of actions which are so miraculously subject
to our will? Would they not still find some reason for considering such
an increase of power, as the necessary result of the eternal system of
the universe? Thus, whatever might be the measure of intelligence, added
to that we now enjoy, in short, though a number of new wonders were
accumulated, men could still oppose to that union of miracles the same
objections, and the same doubts they do not now fear to raise against
the wonders we are daily witnesses of. It is difficult, it is
impossible, to make a constant or profound impression on men who are
only susceptible of astonishment in the short transition from the known
to the unknown; they have but a moment to feel this emotion, and it is
from the slowness of their comprehension, or the continual succession of
the phœnomena submitted to their inspection, that the duration of their
admiration depends. And, perhaps, our faculties and powers would excite
more surprise, if, in order to subject our movements to our will, it
were necessary to give our orders, and to pronounce them with a loud
voice, as a captain does to his soldiers; however, such a constitution
would be a degree less wonderful than that we possess.
I will anticipate another objection; we advance gradually, some will
say, in discovering the secrets of nature; the power of attraction, that
grand physical faculty, has only been known about a century, and
observations on the effects of electricity are still more recent; every
age, every year, adds to the treasure of our knowledge, and the time
will arrive, perhaps, when, without having recourse to any mysterious
opinions, we shall have explained all the phœnomena which still astonish
us.
It is not at first conceivable, how our past discoveries, and all those
which may in future enrich the human mind, would ever free us from the
necessity of placing a first cause at the termination of our
reflections; for, the more we perceive of new links in the vast
disposition of the universe, the more we extend the magnificence of the
work, and the power of the Creator. A series of successful exertions may
reveal, perhaps, the secret of some physical properties, superior in
force to those we have experienced: but, even then, all the movements of
nature would be subordinate to a few general laws; and when we should
distinguish these laws, the result of our researches would demonstrate
simply the existence of a greater unity in the system of the world; and
this character of perfection would be impressed, if it was possible,
still more on us; for, in a work, such as the universe, it is the simple
and regular relations which announce, above all, the wisdom and power of
the Disposer; because our admiration could never be excited by an
assemblage of incoherent ideas, whose chain would every instant be
broken. But, I know not by what habit or blindness it is, that when men
have discovered a principle uniform in its action, and have given to
that principle a denomination, they believe that their astonishment
ought to cease: in fact, attraction and electricity are not so much now
subjects of surprise, as a means to free us from the admiration due to
the magnificent result of those singular properties; in short, we are
habituated to consider, with indifference, every general effect, of
which we acquire a conception, as if even this conception was not one of
the most noble of the phœnomena of nature. Some will say, that men, by
degrees, becoming familiarized with their own minds, despise all they
can easily understand; their competitions are then the only origin of
their vanity; for when they examine themselves individually, or when
they judge of men in general, they have such a mean opinion of
themselves, that they do not highly value their discoveries.
We ought to place, amongst the number of ideas the most extensive and
general, that of Buffon on the formation of the earth; but this idea,
supposing it as just as it is beautiful, only explains to us one of the
gradations of this superb work. I see the earth formed by an emanation
of the sun; I see it animated and become fertile, when it has received,
by slow degree, its temperature; and I see, beside, issue out of its lap
all the beauties of nature; and that which surprises me still more, all
the beings endowed with instinct or intelligence; but if the elements of
these incomprehensible productions had been prepared or simply disposed
in the fiery body which animates our system, I transfer to it my
astonishment, and equally have to seek for the author of so many
wonders.
I must now fix my attention, for a few moments, on the most metaphysical
part of this work. We can, perhaps, form an idea of a world existing
without a beginning, and by the laws of blind necessity, provided that
world was immoveable and invariable in all its parts; but how apply the
idea of eternity to a continual succession; as such a nature is
necessarily composed of a beginning and end, we cannot otherwise define
the idea of succession; thus, we are constrained to elevate ourselves to
a first Being existing by himself, when we have before our eyes a
constant revolution of causes and effects, of destruction and life. It
is impossible to have any idea of motion without that of a beginning.
The difficulty would not be removed, by saying, that the whole of the
universe is immutable, and the parts only subject to change; for a whole
of this kind, without any relation whatever, either real or imaginary, a
like whole has only an ideal circumscription, which, in fact, is not
susceptible of an alteration; but such a circumscription only presents
us an assemblage of positive things contained in its circle; and it is
not in studying those, nor in examining the different parts of the
unknown whole, which we call the universe, that we are allowed to draw
consequences, or to form a judgment. Thus, seeing only a succession, we
rationally feel the necessity of a first cause.
But, some will say, you are entangled in the same difficulty, when you
suppose the eternity of a God; for a series of designs in an intelligent
being should lead to the idea of a commencement, as well as the
successions of the physical world.
This proposition, undoubtedly, is not easily cleared up, like all those
whose solution appears to be united to the knowledge of infinity. We
cannot, however, hinder ourselves from perceiving, that the physical
generations lead us, in a manner simple and manifest, to the necessity
of a first principle; and we ought to search for this principle out of
ourselves, since our nature does not furnish any idea of it; whereas,
the successive combinations of the mind may relate to an origin, of
which we have not any conception, and which seems united, in some
manner, to these same combinations. In fact, we can easily form a
distinct idea of a faculty of thought, antecedent to the action of
thinking, and which might even be separated by such intervals as the
imagination could conceive. It is the same with liberty, that
intellectual power of which we have the consciousness, at the same time
that it remains absolutely idle.
I shall add, that, even in the narrow circle of our thoughts, it is
true, the operations of the mind appear to us often dependant on each
other; yet, sometimes their chain is so broken, that our ideas seem
really to issue out of nothing; instead of which, in every other
production, we know, there is always a visible tie between that which
is, and that which was. We must not forget, that at the very time our
ideas appear to us connected, that succession is to be attributed to our
weakness and ignorance, rather than to the mind, considered in a general
manner. Circumscribed in all our means, we are obliged to go continually
from the known to the unknown, from probability to certainty, from
experience of the past, to conjectures about the future; but this
gradation, this course, ought to be absolutely foreign to an
intelligence without bounds, which knows and which sees all at the same
time; and perhaps we are in the way of this truth, when we perceive,
amongst us, the claim of true genius, and the turbulent whirlpool of
folly.
In short, it is not men persuaded of the existence of a God, that we
need require to transport themselves beyond, if I may say so, the domain
of thought, in order to search for proofs of their opinion; atheists
alone want such an effort, since they alone resist the influence of the
simplest sentiments and most natural arguments; since they alone bid us
mistrust that distinct connexion which we perceive between the Supreme
Intelligence and the perfection of order; that train of causes and
effects, between the idea of a God and all the propensities of the soul;
it is these considerations, intelligible to all, which give new force to
our opinions.
Directed by these reflections, and wishing to investigate in a useful
manner the subject I have undertaken, I shall not engage in the
arguments which turn on the creation of the world. It is sufficient for
me to have perceived, that the idea of the creation of the universe is
not more inconceivable than the idea of its eternity; I am not indeed
obliged, with those who adopt the last system, to suppose something
growing out of nothing; but substituting the idea of an eternal
existence, instead of that of nothing, is a thought which equally
terrifies my imagination; for my mind knows not where to place that
eternity and in order to comprehend it still surrounds it with a vacuum.
In the system of a created universe, I see something coming out of
nothing, by the will of a Being whom I can form an idea of; but in the
system of the eternity of matter, my faculties are absorbed in
endeavouring to embrace it; in short, both of these modes of existence
appear to me in the midst of a vague infinity, which no human power can
conceive; and if sometimes the eternal existence of the universe seems
less incomprehensible than its creation, it is only because such an idea
eludes examination and precludes reasoning.
The idea of a Creator is undoubtedly equally above our comprehension,
but we are led to it by all our feelings and thoughts; and if we are
stopped in the efforts which we make to reach the cause we seek, it is
by obstacles which we can even attribute to the will of that power we
are searching to discover; instead of that, contemplating the uniform
and insipid rotation of an eternal existence, we are almost driven to
despair, that is to say, we feel the impossibility of conceiving the
nature of things, and the certainty, nevertheless, that there exists not
any veil designedly placed between that nature and our understandings.
I must still make some further observations; we see a resemblance of
creation in the continual reproduction of all the bounties of the earth;
and our moral system offers a still more striking one, in the formation
of ideas which did not exist antecedently. Our feelings appear another
proof of the same truth; for they have not any evident connexion with
the cause that we assign them: thus, without habit we might see as great
a difference between certain exterior emotions and the various
affections of our souls, as we can conceive between the existence of the
world and the idea of a Creator.
We perceive also, that the universe has all the characters of a
production; characters which consist in the union of a multitude of
parts, whose relations are fixed by a single thought. In short, even the
succession of time announces intelligence; for we know not how to place
that succession in the midst of an eternal existence. We cannot conceive
any different periods in an extent in which there is not a beginning;
for before we arrive at any of these periods, there must have been
always an infinite space; besides, there being no beginning, considered
abstractedly, annihilates the idea of intervals, since they could not
have two fixed points: thus, the introduction of the past, the present,
and the future, into the midst of eternity, seems due to an intelligent
power, who has modelled this immense uniformity, and governs the nature
of things.
I ought not to dwell long on these reflections; to give a basis to
religious opinions, it is not necessary to conceive of creation in its
metaphysical essence; it is sufficient, to believe the existence of a
Supreme Being, creator and preserver of nature, the model of wisdom and
goodness, the protector of rational beings, whose providence governs the
world. We lose all our strength when extending too far our meditations,
we aspire to know and explain the secrets of infinity; we then only
exhibit to the adversaries of religion the faint stretch of our
opinions, and the last struggles of a reason weakened by its own
efforts; it is much better to use those arguments which sense and
feeling are able to defend. We should candidly confess, that our noblest
faculties have immutable limits; one degree more would perhaps diffuse a
sudden light on the questions, whose examination disconcerts us. There
is not perhaps any mind accustomed to meditation, which has not had
several times pre-sentiments of this truth; for the first glimmering of
a new perception seems to out-run thinking, and such is its proximity
that we imagine one step more would enable us to catch it; but our hope
is dissipated, we cannot grasp the fleeting shadow, and fall back again
into the sad conviction of our impotence. Alas! in that infinite space
which our intellectual powers try to run over, there are only immense
deserts, where the mind cannot find repose, or the thoughts meet any
asylum; these are the regions whose entrance seems to have been
desolated, in order that the most unbounded imagination might not obtain
any knowledge of them; but will you dare to say, that there stops all
intelligence, there finishes the mysteries of nature? would you expect
to possess the secrets of time in attributing an eternal existence to
all we know? Certainly, we are too insignificant to promulge such
decrees, we enjoy too small a portion of eternity to determine what
belongs to it.