Part 7 (2/2)

[88] _Le Rationalisme_, par Ausonio Franchi, page 19.--_Force et matiere_, par le docteur Buchner, page 262.--_Paroles de philosophie positive_, par Littre, page 36.--_La Metaphysique et la Science_, par Vacherot, page xiv. (Premiere edition.)

[89] Ps. xiv. 1.

[90] De Natura Deorum.

[91] Nil audet magnum qui putat esse Deos.

[92] See Bossuet: _Sermon sur la dignite de la religion_.

[93] Gen. xlvii. 9.

[94]

Quand tous les biens que l'homme envie Deborderaient dans un seul coeur, La mort seule au bout de la vie Fait un supplice du bonheur.

[95] Pascal.

[96]

Reconnaissez, _Messieurs_, a ces traits eclatants, Un Dieu tel aujourd'hui qu'il fut dans tous les temps.

Il sait, quand il lui plait, faire eclater sa gloire, Et son peuple est toujours present a sa memoire.

LECTURE IV.

_NATURE._

(At Geneva, 27th Nov. 1863.--At Lausanne, 25th Jan. 1864.)

GENTLEMEN,

The thoughts of man are numberless; and still, in their indefinite variety, they never relate but to one or another of these three objects: nature, or the world of material substances, which are revealed to our senses; created spirits, similar or superior to that spirit which is ourselves; and finally G.o.d, the Infinite Being, the universal Creator.

Therefore there are two sorts of atheism, and there are only two. The mind stops at nature, and endeavors to find in material substances the universal principle of existence; or, rising above nature, the mind stops at humanity, without ascending to the Infinite Mind, to the Creator. We have seen how clearly these two doctrines appear in contemporary literature. We have now to enter upon the examination of them, and this will afford us matter for two lectures.

The word nature has various meanings; we employ it here to designate matter, and the forces which set it in motion, those forces being conceived as blind and fatal, in opposition to the conscious and free force which const.i.tutes mind. Matter and the laws of motion are the object of mechanics, of chemistry, and of physics. Do these sciences suffice for resolving the universal enigma? Such is precisely the question which offers itself to our examination.

Let us first of all determine what, in presence of the spectacle of the universe, is the natural movement of human thought, when human thought possesses the idea of G.o.d. I open a book trivial enough in its form, but occasionally profound in its contents: the _Journey round my room_, of Xavier de Maistre. The author is relating how he had undertaken to make an artificial dove which was to sustain itself in the air by means of an ingenious mechanism. I read:

”I had wrought unceasingly at its construction for more than three months. The day was come for the trial. I placed it on the edge of a table, after having carefully closed the door, in order to keep the discovery secret, and to give my friends a pleasing surprise. A thread held the mechanism motionless. Who can conceive the palpitations of my heart, and the agonies of my self-love, when I brought the scissors near to cut the fatal bond?--Zest!--the spring of the dove starts, and begins to unroll itself with a noise. I lift my eyes to see the bird pa.s.s; but, after making a few turns over and over, it falls, and goes off to hide itself under the table. Rosine (my dog), who was sleeping there, moves ruefully away. Rosine, who never sees a chicken, or a pigeon, or the smallest bird, without attacking and pursuing it, did not deign even to look at my dove which was floundering on the floor. This gave the finis.h.i.+ng stroke to my self-esteem. I went to take an airing on the ramparts.

”I was walking up and down, sad and out of spirits as one always is after a great hope disappointed, when, raising my eyes, I perceived a flight of cranes pa.s.sing over my head. I stopped to have a good look at them. They were advancing in triangular order, like the English column at the battle of Fontenoy. I saw them traverse the sky from cloud to cloud.--Ah! how well they fly, said I to myself. With what a.s.surance they seem to glide along the viewless path which they follow.--Shall I confess it? alas! may I be forgiven! the horrible feeling of envy for once, once only, entered my heart, and it was for the cranes. I pursued them, with jealous gaze, to the boundaries of the horizon. For a long while afterwards, motionless in the midst of the crowd which was moving about me, I kept observing the rapid movement of the swallows, and I was astonished to see them suspended in the air, just as if I had never before seen that phenomenon. A feeling of profound admiration, unknown to me till then, lighted up my soul. I seemed to myself to be looking upon nature for the first time. I heard with surprise the buzzing of the flies, the song of the birds, and that mysterious and confused noise of the living creation which involuntarily celebrates its Author. Ineffable concert, to which man alone has the sublime privilege of adding the accents of grat.i.tude! Who is the author of this brilliant mechanism? I exclaimed in the transport which animated me. Who is He that, opening his creative hand, let fly the first swallow into the air? It is He who gave commandment to these trees to come forth from the ground, and to lift their branches toward the sky!”

Here is a charming page, and containing, though apparently trivial in style, a good and sound philosophy. Let us translate this delightful description into the heavier language of science.

The intellect is one of the things with which we are best acquainted; logic is the science of thought, and logic is perhaps, among all the sciences, the one best settled on its bases. The intellect discovers itself to us in the exercise of our activity. We pursue an object, we combine the means for attaining it, and it is the intellect which operates this combination. What happens if we compare the results of our activity with the results of the power manifested in the world? When we consider in their vast _ensemble_ the means of which nature disposes, when we remark the infinite number of the relations of things, the marvellous harmony of which universal life is the produce, we are dazzled by the splendor of a wisdom which surpa.s.ses our own as much as boundless s.p.a.ce surpa.s.ses the imperceptible spot which we occupy upon the earth. Think of this: the science of nature is so vast that the least of its departments suffices to absorb one human lifetime. All our sciences are only in their very beginning; they are spelling out the first lines of an immense book. The elements of the universe are numberless; and yet, notwithstanding, all hangs together; all things are linked one to another in the closest connection. The _savants_ therefore find themselves in a strange embarra.s.sment. They are obliged to circ.u.mscribe more and more the field of their researches, on pain of losing themselves in an endless study; and, on the other hand, in proportion as science advances, the mutual relation of all its branches becomes so manifest that it is ever more and more clearly seen that, in order to know any one thing thoroughly, it would be necessary to know all. It needs not that we seek very high or very far away for occasions of astonishment: the least of the objects which nature presents to our view contains abysses of wisdom.

The acquired results of science appear simple through the effect of habit. The sun rises every day; who is still surprised at its rising?

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