XLI. THE preliminary notions
hitherto set forth are to be regarded as placed in
the vestibule leading to the temple of Revelation.
Now, before we cross the threshold, it may be well
to meet at once an objection which will possibly be
offered by modern incredulity. It is fashionably
said, that rational man can admit nothing as true except
that which is proved to him by logical demonstrations;
and as for the acceptance of a revealed religion faith
is a necessary element, and this must exclude (as
commonly pretended) every kind of proof, therefore
all reasoning is out of the question, and the very
basis of that which is sought to be inculcated as
a truth, renders it inadmissible. Such an objection,
however erroneous in reality, has too grave an appearance,
and its consequences would be too lamentable, to permit
us to disregard it. It becomes, therefore, indispensable,
before entering the sanctuary of Revelation, to remove
the obstruction of such an error, even at the cost
of a digression from our path, in order to consider
the matter in its origin.
XLII. One of the primary laws
of existence in the physical world is self-love; that
is, an instinct in every creature to procure its own
good, even at the expense of others, so that the preservation
of one is attended with the destruction of some others.
All nature is in a perpetual struggle within itself,
and every component part receives the elements of
its own life and increment from the destruction of
others. This we see repeatedly happen under our
own eyes, as well in plants as in animals, and so
evidently, that we need not here record instances to
confirm it. It is through this contrast of individual
interests, through this perpetual alternation of production
and growth with decrease and destruction, that Providence
ordained the preservation of the world in its totality,
while the individuals perish and the species remain.
XLIII. Man also, considered only
in his physical nature, is subject to the universal
law of self-love; and until he has arrived at a correct
appreciation of his moral nature and duties, he will
allow himself to be impelled by that law to possess
himself of all that he thinks suitable to his own
advantage, regardless of the detriment of others, and
even of their very existence; and so will, on the
other hand, every one else, being in the same condition,
act towards him. But the effects of unrestrained
self-love are by far more mischievous in man than in
the irrational animals, for the intelligence with
which he is endowed affords him more means and artifices
to accomplish his selfish views, so long as he is
governed by these and not by nobler impulses.
Hence it happens also, that so long as a man lies
under the fascination of self-love, society, of which
he is called to become a member, places him in a condition,
from which he looks upon his fellow-men as the natural
enemies of his individual happiness; and he feels a
propensity to throw obstacles, either by malice or
violence, in the way of others, to prevent their attaining
that which is denied to him.
XLIV. But we find, also, in man
another principle diametrically opposed to self-love,
which, proceeding from the noblest prerogatives of
his soul, distinguishes him from the irrational creatures,
and invites him to a career totally opposite to theirs.
This principle, commonly called virtue, we shall express
by the more comprehensive name of heroism.
As by self-love man is inclined to sacrifice the welfare
of others to his own, so by heroism he is led to sacrifice
himself to the welfare of others. When we see
a mother struggling to death, and with admirable self-devotion,
against overpowering waves, or ferocious beasts, or
devouring flames, to save her child from certain destruction,
it would be stolidity and folly for us to bring into
comparison with this act, the cares bestowed by a
brute in feeding her young, since as soon as the latter
has carried into effect the order of nature, she forsakes
them, and, when grown, does not even recognise them;
whereas the love of a mother endures beyond the grave.
When a husband, bound with the indissoluble tie of
affection to the woman of his heart, voluntarily sacrifices
to her everything dearest in the world, and finds in
her affection ample recompense for his direst privations,
who would dare to attribute this to the physical sexual
tendency common even to the brutes? a tendency, which,
besides manifesting itself only at detached periods
of time, disappears altogether in old age, whereas
conjugal love runs beyond the confines of time.
The same may be said of a friend, who would give his
own life to save that of his beloved, of a generous
warrior who risks everything for his country’s
sake, and of a host of others, who magnanimously devote
themselves to the relief of suffering humanity; in
short, of every one who feels himself moved by a superior
force to cross over the boundaries of selfishness and
sensuality, and to become a hero.
XLV. In all these phenomena,
a principle directly adverse to that of physical nature
manifests itself. While in the latter, self-love
is a necessary supreme law, in the spiritual life
of man we see prevailing, as a foundation to morality,
a voluntary sacrifice of self, offered on the altar
of love. No pain or regret ever accompanies such
an offering; on the contrary, a sensible man undertakes
it with cheerfulness, as a manifestation of his exalted
nature, and derives from its performance a purer joy
than all other earthly enjoyments could afford him.
But this love, which limits and conquers self-love,
this love which so well testifies to the excellence
of man, whence does it proceed? Assuredly not
from physical nature; this is, on the contrary, based
upon a law which would destroy love. It must
emanate, then, from a source, itself a prototype of
moral perfection, a perpetual spring of the purest
love; and this source is God. Through the effects
and impressions of this celestial love, man feels
the need of approaching his Creator, of finding in
Him the provident Ruler of the human destinies, and
of expecting from His kindness the future triumph
of good, and an ultimate perfection of all things.
God, providence, and the immortality of the soul,
become then for him incontestable truths: and
at such a knowledge he does not arrive by way of laborious
instruction and logical demonstrations; but it springs
up, as it were, in his inward feeling, which prompts
him to regulate his life according to that sublime
model of moral perfection; therefore, although reason
furnishes not to him logical proofs of these truths,
yet he finds the presentiment of them within his heart,
he feels them, he accepts them with a force more sentimental
than intellectual, he embraces them with enthusiasm,
and can no longer detach himself from them; in short
he believes them.
XLVI. Thus, with the same confidence
with which man admits as true, what is demonstrated
to his reason by solid arguments, and he
is then said to be convinced, does
he likewise give his assent to the noble inspirations
of his heart, not yet depraved by abject inclinations, and
he is then said to be persuaded. Thus there
are two kinds of truths, equally ascertained, and
therefore equally admissible; the one proceeding from
intellect and called rational truth, the other formed
in the heart, and called moral truth. The source
of the latter might also properly be called good
sense, which in fact acts, in many circumstances
of life, in lieu of pure reason. A man endowed
with good sense, and who has not yet become a slave
to sensual appetites, will not doubt for a moment,
even without having ever been acquainted with the
proofs, that lying, calumniating, blaspheming, false
swearing, robbing, murdering, betraying friendship,
country or honour, are culpable and abominable actions.
Other truths based on good sense are also the following:
the faith we have in friendship, in the rectitude of
those who administer justice, in the fidelity of a
beloved object, in the tenderness of parents, in the
excellence of virtue, and above all, in the wisdom,
goodness, and providence of God; all these things we
admit within our souls, not in consequence of a cold
calculation of the intellect, but through an irresistible
impulse of the heart, and in consequence of a sort
of presentiment springing from the consciousness of
our own noble spirituality, which develops itself and
gains force, in proportion as we elevate ourselves
above the material propensities to which we are subject
as citizens of this earth.
XLVII. Those who, throwing themselves
on a severe rationalism, will recognise nothing as
true but what is demonstrated to them like mathematical
theorems, will look upon the sentiments above referred
to as delusions of the fancy, because they see them
founded but upon feeling; but they who think so are
manifestly in error. If faith in God, in His
providence, and in the immortality of the human soul,
were a mere product of the imagination, it would last
only so long as the semblance, which had given it
aliment, exists; and when man is awakened to the sense
of realities and facts calculated to destroy the delusion,
he would be seen to withdraw from the meshes of his
error, and his reason triumphant would confess the
former aberration of the mind; yet it happens not
so. In the moment we are struck by some grave
calamity, when we see fond hopes, long cherished,
vanish in an instant, or when we are on the point
of losing what is dearest to us, why is faith in God
and in His providence not then weakened in the religious
man? Why, on the contrary, does he cling to it
more and more? The reason is, because such a
faith is not a cold theorem, against which some doubt
may eventually arise, but a truth rooted in the love
inherent in our nature; and consequently it acquires
vigour with the growth of love, and its power cannot
be extinguished but when we cease to love. So,
also, the other impulses to heroism and to exalted
moral action, by which we are induced to great sacrifices,
or led to believe ourselves capable of accomplishing
them, are produced in us by faith in an eternal Source
of pure love, by that faith which carries with itself
the surety of a future life and a future kingdom founded
upon love. Therefore, in proportion as man succeeds
in subduing his own passions, or as these grow faint
by age or other causes, so his love grows more vigorous;
and as earthly objects gradually disappear, so faith
rises and shews itself all-pervading and invincible.
XLVIII. As a condition indispensable
to the entertainment of faith, we have already insisted
on the necessity of previously freeing the heart from
the sway of the sensual appetites; and it is not without
a grave reason, for therein precisely consists the
secret of the solution of the great question agitated
in all ages between the so-called rationalists and
the supernaturalists. Intellect and reason are
rays from the Divine wisdom, bestowed upon man to
assist him to discern between true and false, between
good and evil; but such a function is not exercised
by those faculties with an absolute power over the
human will; they, on the contrary, are subservient
to such desires and passions as have acquired a preponderance
in the heart; they are similar to those ministers of
a prince who, in offering him advice, only aim at
facilitating the attainment of their master’s
wishes; or to the known effects of a glass applied
to a jaundiced eye. So long as man remains faithful
to his moral duties, and desires nothing but what
is good and honest, his intellect and reason always
offer him valid arguments to confirm him in his purpose,
and to augment his love of virtue; and then, also,
the noblest dogmas of faith, God, providence, and
immortality find easy access to his mind, and are
Harboured with joy. But if depraved propensities
have corrupted his heart, so that his aspirations
are in a wrong and base direction, then these same
faculties become ministers to the predominant passion,
and suggest to man sophisms, fallacies, and specious
subtleties, whereby to disown that which he heretofore
respected, to upset the edifice of his faith, to lull
his conscience and quiet remorse, to excuse his weaknesses
and break through every restraint, and thus to warrant
every kind of fault and vice. Hence it is that
the knowledge and discernment of what is true or untrue,
in the moral world, depends, in a considerable degree,
upon the practice of good or evil; hence it is, that
the judgments of the mind are modified by the inclinations
of the heart, and that virtue opens the way to faith,
and vice is the author of infidelity.
XLIX. From what we have hitherto
briefly stated, it will appear sufficiently obvious
that the dogmas of revealed religion, though based
rather on the ground of faith than on that of philosophy
and strict criticism, are yet, for an upright man,
susceptible of a degree of evidence equal to that
of any other demonstrable truth, inasmuch as they
have their foundation in human nature itself, and can
be rejected but by him who rebels against the noblest
impulses of the heart, to give himself up to the sway
of passions or inordinate appetites.
One of the features, which most enhances
the value of religion, is precisely this, that it
is the product, not of transcendental devices of the
mind, but of faith in God, itself springing from love,
and that consequently, it is not originated by the
intellect, but infused by a Divine grace. Thus
we see every day, in our own experience, that the
loftiest thoughts of virtue and heroism are not suggested
to us by a long and laborious chain of syllogisms,
but break upon us unexpectedly as inspirations of
the heart; truly considering the divine
spirit dwelling within us, and which we have but to
harbour carefully they break upon us like
inspirations of heaven.
Having, as we hope, satisfactorily
disposed of the objection usually put forward by the
so-called rationalists, we shall now proceed to relate
the modes by which Divine revelation historically came
into actuality.