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Library of Pbilosopby. 
 MOPED LOL) © BY J FT, M UIRHEAD, LL.D. 
 
 DIALOGUES ON METAPHYSICS 
 AND ON RELIGION 
 
Library of Philosophy 
 
 GeneraL Epiror: Prorgssor J. H. MUIRHEAD, LLD. 
 
 ANALYTIC PSYCHOLOGY By Prof. G. F, Stout. Two Vols. 4th Impression 
 APPEARANCE AND REALITY By F. H. BRADLEY. 6th Impression. 
 ATTENTION By Prof. W. B. PILLSBURY. 2nd Impression. oF 
 CONTEMPORARY PSYCHOLOGY By Prof. G. VILLA. : 
 HISTORY OF AESTHETIC By Dr. B. BOSANQUET. 4th Impression, 
 HISTORY OF ENGLISH UTILITARIANISM By Prof. E. ALBEE. 
 HISTORY OF PHILOSOPHY By J. E. ERDMANN, 
 
 Vol. I. ANCIENT AND MEDIEVAL. 4th Impression. 
 
 Vol. II. MODERN. 6th Impression. 
 
 Vol. III. SINCE HEGEL. 6/h Impression. 
 
 HISTORY OF PSYCHOLOGY By Prof. G. S, BRETT, 
 
 Vol. I. ANCIENT AND PATRISTIC. 
 
 Vol. II. MEDIZ VAL AND EARLY MODERN PERIOD. 
 Vol, III. MODERN PSYCHOLOGY, 
 
 MATTER AND MEMORY By Prof. HENRI BERGSON, Translated by N. M. 
 PAUL and W.S. PALMER. 37d Impression. ae 
 
 NATURAL RIGHTS By D.G. RITCHIE, 3rd Impression. 
 
 PHILOSOPHY AND POLITICAL ECONOMY By Dr. J. BONAR. 
 
 RATIONAL THEOLOGY SINCE KANT By Prof. O. PFLEIDERER, 
 
 THE PHENOMENOLOGY OF MIND By G. W. F. HEGEL, Translated by 
 Prof. J. B. BAILLIE. Two Vols. 
 
 THOUGHT AND THINGS; or, Genrtic LoGic By Pref. J. M. BALDWIN. 
 
 Vol. I. FUNCTIONAL LOGIC. 
 
 Vol. Il. EXPERIMENTAL LOGIC, 
 Vol, III. ReaL Loaic (I., GENETIC EPISTEMOLOGY). 
 
 TIME AND FREE WILL By Prof. HENRI BERGSON. Translated by F. L* 
 POGSON. 3rd Impression. P 
 VALUATION: THE THEORY OF VALUE By Prof. W. M. URBAN. 
 THE PSYCHOLOGY OF THE RELIGIOUS LIFE By Prof. G. M, 
 STRATTON. ‘ 
 THE GREAT PROBLEMS By Pref. BERNARDINO VaRIsco. Translated by 
 
 Prof. R. C. LODGE. _ 
 KNOW THYSELF By Prof. BERNARDINO VARISCO. Translated by Dr, 
 GUGLIELMO SALVADORI. >, 
 ELEMENTS OF FOLK PSYCHOLOGY By W. Wunpt. Translated by Dr. 
 
 EDWARD L. SCHAUB. 2nd Impression. 
 GIAMBATTISTA VICO By BENEDETTO CROocE. Translated by R. G, 
 COLLINGWOOD. - 
 ELEMENTS OF CONSTRUCTIVE PHILOSOPHY By Prof. J. S. MACKENZIE, 
 and Intpression. 
 
 SOCIAL PURPOSE By Principal H. J. W. HETHERINGTON and Prof. I. H. 
 MUIRHEAD. 
 
 INTRODUCTION TO MATHEMATICAL PHILOSOPHY By BERTRAND 
 RUSSELL, F.R.S. 2nd Impression, 
 
 GOD AND PERSONALITY (GIFFORD LECTURES) By Prof. CLEMENT C, J. 
 WEBB. (Part I.) 
 
 DIVINE PERSONALITY AND HUMAN LIFE (GIFForRD LECTURES) By 
 Prof, CLEMENT C. J. WEBB. (Part II.) 
 
 MODERN PHILOSOPHY By Gurpo DE RUGGIERO. Translated by A. 
 HowWaRD HANNAY, B.A., and R. G. COLLINGWOOD, M.A., F.S.A. 
 
 THE ANALYSIS OF MIND By BERTRAND RUSSELL, F.R.S. 2nd Impression. 
 
 DIALOGUES ON METAPHYSICS, By NICOLAS MALEBRANCHE. Translated 
 by MORRIS GINSBERG, M.A. 
 
 INDIAN PHILOSOPHY, By Prof. S, RADHAKRISHNAN, 
 
DIALOGUES ON 
 METAPHYSICS 
 AND ON RELIGION 
 
 BY 
 
 NICOLAS MALEBRANCHE 
 
 TRANSLATED BY 
 
 MORRIS GINSBERG, M.A. 
 
 LECTURER IN PHILOSOPHY, UNIVERSITY 
 COLLEGE, LONDON 
 
 WITH A PREFACE 
 BY 
 
 PROFESSOR G. DAWES HICKS 
 
 NEW YORK 
 THE MACMILLAN COMPANY 
 1923 
 
(All rights reserved) 
 
 Printed tn Great Britain by 
 UNWIN BROTHERS, LIMITED, THE GRESHAM PRESS, LONDON AND WOKING 
 
“ PREFACE 
 
 BESIDES containing the best exposition Malebranche has left us 
 of his philosophical system, the Entretiens sur la Métaphysique 
 form one of the most exquisitely written of philosophical books 
 in any language. A translation cannot, of course, be expected 
 to retain either the subtle elegance or all the delicate shades of 
 meaning that delight a reader of the original. But Mr. Ginsberg 
 has contrived, I think, to give the English reader a faithful render- 
 ing of the author’s thought, and it is matter for congratulation 
 that a work of so much significance in the history of speculation 
 should at length have found a scholar willing to undertake the 
 labour of translating it into our tongue. 
 
 Malebranche has been unduly neglected in most histories of 
 philosophy ; seldom has either the penetration or the originality 
 of his metaphysical analysis received the attention it deserves. 
 Too readily it has been concluded that the position he occupied 
 was but a transition stage to the standpoint, more thoroughgoing, 
 as it would be called, of Spinoza. And one need not be concerned 
 to question that, in not a few respects, Malebranche does, as in 
 his introductory estimate Mr. Ginsberg has made sufficiently 
 apparent, come extremely near to the final form assumed by the 
 Cartesian philosophy in its historical development. But an 
 injustice is, I think, done to Malebranche when his work is dis- 
 tissed, after the manner in which Kuno Fischer dismisses it, as 
 “but a half-way house to that identification of spirit and matter, 
 
 Sof God and nature, in which Cartesianism culminated. To me 
 “it seems fairly evident that Malebranche contemplated in a more 
 “concrete, and therefore in a more effective, manner than Spinoza 
 did certain fundamental problems—just the problems, in fact, 
 “with which the Cartesian philosophy, and in particular Spinoza’s 
 oform of it, found itself incompetent to deal. One discerns, if I 
 A mistake not, in Malebranche’s reflections a recognition of certain 
 zelements in the notions both of the finite mind and of the system 
 
 “2of things in the midst of which the finite mind plays its part, that 
 5 
 
 0071386 
 
 V7 Oras 
 \ » GLa & 
 
6 PREFACE 
 
 transcend the prevailingly mechanical framework to which the 
 Cartesian interpretation of the universe had to adapt itself. Con- 
 sequently, I am inclined to believe that the somewhat hesitating, 
 halting character of Malebranche’s philosophising is due not more 
 to its theological colouring than to the real superiority of his 
 speculative insight. 
 
 When the first edition of the Entretiens was published in 1688, 
 Spinoza’s Ethics had already been before the public for a period 
 of ten years.t And even the first of Malebranche’s writings, the 
 Recherche de la Vérité, which saw the light in 1674, was considerably 
 later in date than those treatises of Spinoza that appeared in the 
 latter’s lifetime. In the correspondence, towards the end of his 
 life, with De Mairan, Malebranche has left it on record that he 
 had studied Spinoza’s works, although not, he says, in their entirety, 
 and it is hardly conceivable that the main lines of Spinoza’s thought 
 were unfamiliar to him. Indeed, apart from the rather feverish 
 outburst in the ninth Dialogue, which may have been inspired 
 by the representations of the “‘impious’’ doctrine furnished by 
 such superficial critics as Aubert de Versé and Pierre Poiret, there 
 are not wanting in the volume before us indications that the writer 
 is struggling with problems which Spinoza’s dialectic may well 
 have forced upon him. No doubt it was upon the conception 
 of creation as an arbitrary act of divine power and not a necessary 
 consequence of the divine nature that he himself fastened as 
 constituting what he held to be the immeasurable cleft between 
 his philosophy and Spinoza’s. While absolutely discarding Des- 
 cartes’ contention that even eternal truths are contingent on 
 the will of God (a view, he declared, which would mean the very 
 death of knowledge), he came, it must be confessed, dangerously 
 near to a similar conception in regard to the whole range of 
 existent fact. For, although he might have allowed that the . 
 essence of the finite is implied in the Infinite, what he actually 
 insisted upon was that the real existence of the finite had no 
 necessary relation to the being of the Infinite. The world was 
 “‘ called into ’’ real existence; relatively to God, it is as nought, 
 there is no reason for its existence; and he was obliged to have 
 recourse to theological dogma in order to answer the puzzling 
 question, why, then, it should exist at all. 
 
 But the stronger features of Malebranche’s thinking come out 
 
 t Spinoza’s Opera Posthuma, containing the Ethica, De Intellectus Emen- 
 datione, and the Tvactatus politicus, appeared in 1677. 
 
PREFACE 7 
 
 not in such conclusions as that just mentioned, but in the general 
 considerations he brought to bear in reaching them. For example, 
 with greater definiteness than Descartes had ever done, and with 
 more persistency than in this connection was evinced by Spinoza, 
 he laid stress upon the important, though difficult, metaphysical 
 distinction between essence and existence. The infinite variety 
 of possible geometrical forms in intelligible extension does not, 
 he argued, necessarily imply the existence of any one geometrically 
 related body. Even in sense-perception, the contents directly 
 known by us, who “ dwell but in the universal Reason,”’ are essences 
 or “‘ideas’’ in God. What alone induces us to assert the existence 
 of entities corresponding to these “‘ideas”’ is the complex of 
 confused imagery and corporeal feeling, produced by the stimula- 
 tion which happens as a particular illustration or manifestation 
 of the general laws established by the Divine will between soul 
 and body. On the occasion of such bodily stimulation, there 
 occur ‘‘ modalities ’’ or modifications of the mind—“ sensations,”’ 
 as they came to be called—and through, or in conjunction with, 
 these ‘‘ modalities ’’ we become aware of the primary and essential 
 qualities, the ‘‘ideas’’ of things. The “‘ideas”’ are universal, 
 each ‘“‘ modality ’’ or operation of the mind is particular; the 
 “‘ideas ’’ are immutable, our modes of perceiving are all of them 
 in time. In the awareness of a concrete thing, there are, then, 
 involved (a) the “idea ’”’ or essence, more or less confusedly appre- 
 hended, of extendedness, and (0) the complex of sensations or 
 feelings (sentiments), which we erroneously suppose to be the 
 apprehension of external qualities. Thus Malebranche is driven 
 to the conclusion that we do not know but only infer the concrete 
 existence of external things; and, indeed, although he conceived 
 that on theological grounds their existence was assured, he made 
 no attempt to explain how “intelligible extension,’ containing 
 as it does no particularising features, can be determined to manifest 
 itself in the form of concrete entities. Yet, with the help of this 
 opposition between essence and existence, Malebranche was in 
 truth formulating the problem which is the fundamental problem 
 of speculative philosophy. The discussion of it runs through the 
 whole of the first period of modern philosophy, and it is virtually 
 that which Kant had before his mind in the contradistinction, 
 often so prominent in the critical inquiry, between thinking and 
 knowing. One of the merits of Malebranche’s handling of the 
 subject is that the contrast which subsequent writers have fre- 
 
 ? 
 
8 PREFACE 
 
 quently ignored between the act of cognising and the content 
 cognised was by him consistently kept in view. In perceiving 
 the sun, for instance, though, he argued, it is true we do not see 
 the actual material sun, that which we do see we recognise plainly 
 enough to be something distinguishable from our act of seeing ; 
 and it is, therefore, flying in the face of all the evidence (“‘ contre 
 notre lumiére et contre notre conscience’’) to assert that what the 
 mind sees are its own states or modifications. No doubt, by 
 the very fact of his locating the knowable essences of things in 
 God, he was constrained to ascribe to these essences a quasi- 
 existential mode of being, and thus exposed himself to Arnauld’s 
 acute and justifiable criticism. But it was, at any rate, a great 
 gain to clear thinking to have the contrast itself forcibly and 
 lucidly exhibited. As another example of Malebranche’s peculiar 
 suggestiveness, I should instance his striking reflections upon the 
 nature of self-consciousness. It is true, he maintained, that the 
 ““jdea’’ or essence of each finite soul must be present in God, 
 but we do not know our own minds by way of ideas. The self, 
 that is to say, is not for us a definitely apprehended object; we 
 are aware of the self only through the obscure channel of feeling. 
 While of material things we know the essence but not the existence, 
 of the soul we feel the existence but know not the essence. Im- 
 possible though it may be to reconcile this contention with his 
 metaphysical doctrine, yet the contention in itself evinces a 
 remarkable discernment of the real difficulties of introspective 
 observation. A further feature of interest in Malebranche’s treat- 
 ment of the mental life, and a feature of it which has received 
 comparatively little notice, is the emphasis that he laid upon the 
 capacity of Attention. It is, he held, God who acts in us; but 
 God acts by means of general laws, and the particular states of 
 what may be called the practical consciousness which precede 
 action on our part are, in accordance with his theory, the ‘‘ occa- 
 sions’ on which God’s general regulations come into force. These 
 antecedents of particular action on our part are summed up by 
 Malebranche under the term “attention.’”’ We have, he insisted, 
 the power of dwelling upon our motives and impulses, and thus 
 of comparing them with that illumination extended to us in reason 
 or in the conceptions we have of the divine order. And through 
 
 t In phraseology almost identical with that used later by Locke, Male- 
 branche tells us that by the word “‘idea’’ he understands nothing else than 
 *‘that which is the immediate object of, or nearest to, the mind, when we 
 perceive any object.” 
 
PREFACE 9 
 
 attention we acquire a control over our actions; all the typical 
 forms of virtue depend for their realisation upon its exercise. 
 
 The form into which the work here translated is thrown, that 
 of dialogue, is not an easy one to handle; and it can scarcely 
 be claimed that Malebranche has succeeded in utilising it with 
 a skill equal to Berkeley’s. The Entretiens have not the artistic 
 charm of Alciphron, although they may be compared, perhaps 
 not unfavourably, with Hylas and Philonous. The characters in 
 the Dialogues are three in number. Theodore personates Male- 
 branche himself, and unfolds the main tenets of his philosophy 
 to Aristes, in whose study the discussions are supposed to take 
 place. Aristes is apparently a young man, who is conversant with 
 the philosophical and theological opinions of the time. He is a 
 willing pupil, eager to assimilate the principles propounded by 
 his friend and instructor. At times he exhibits an almost boyish 
 enthusiasm when the significance of a new thought has dawned 
 upon him. Theotimus is introduced rather as an intermediary 
 for the purpose of bringing the minds of the other two into a 
 condition of mutual understanding than as making any serious 
 contribution to the argument. He is evidently a priest who has 
 had a wide experience of ordinary humanity, and his chief concern 
 would seem to be to justify the teaching of the Church as presented 
 to the multitude. On the whole, the dramatic setting of the work 
 is not without its attractiveness; and we derive from it a fairly 
 clear impression of the kind of atmosphere in the midst of which 
 Malebranche’s life was lived. 
 
 More than two hundred years have passed away since Male- 
 branche’s death. But of his works there is still no complete or 
 reliable edition. The only edition that has claimed to be complete 
 is that which was edited by Genoude and Lourdoueix and published 
 in two volumes in 1837-38. In the first place, however, this 
 edition is now out of print; and, in the second place, its claim 
 to completeness is quite ill-founded. Not to mention the con- 
 siderable amount of Malebranche’s correspondence which has 
 been printed since 1837, the edition in question does not contain a 
 large number of his writings that are of importance for an adequate 
 understanding of his thought. The Entretiens, in particular, have 
 suffered badly in the hands of editors. The book was originally 
 published by Reinier Leers at Rotterdam in 1688. André relates 
 that Malebranche’s secretary, Carré Louis, wishful to show his 
 gratitude to his benefactor, endeavoured to obtain the consent 
 
10 PREFACE 
 
 of King Louis XIV to the Entretiens being printed in France. 
 The attempt turned out to be successful. A Paris edition appeared 
 accordingly in 1699, and for that edition the work was augmented 
 by a long Preface, in which the author quotes a number of passages 
 from St. Augustine in support of his views, and also by three new 
 Entretiens sur la mort, besides which the text was revised and 
 several additions made to it. In the edition of Genoude and 
 Lourdoueix the Preface is omitted; and in the various editions 
 of the Ceuvres de Malebranche, said to be “‘ collationnées sur les 
 meilleurs textes,’’ by Jules Simon, both the Preface and the three 
 new Entretiens are wanting. All this points to the crying need 
 for a carefully revised and complete collection of Malebranche’s 
 works. Nor is it only philosophers who should be interested in 
 such an undertaking. Malebranche’s researches on the nature of 
 light and colour have, as Pierre Duhem has shown, a distinct 
 title to recognition in the history of physics, and his psychological 
 theory of vision is, as Professor Norman Smith has made manifest, 
 a great advance upon any earlier theory, in some respects even 
 an advance upon Berkeley’s. No one will accuse the French 
 people of habitually forgetting their great men; and I trust the 
 day is not far distant when, under the direction of competent 
 scholars, Malebranche’s writings will be presented to the world 
 in a form that is worthy of them. 
 
 G. DAWES HICKS. 
 UNIVERSITY COLLEGE, LONDON. 
 
 x. 
 
CONTENTS 
 
 RRC Pern We ete Vina OG ak on de ae 
 
 TRANSLATOR’S INTRODUCTION 
 
 Part I. LIFE AND WoRKS OF MALEBRANCHE , ‘ ; ° : T5 
 
 Part II. MALEBRANCHE’S THEORY OF KNOWLEDGE . i F 2 21 
 
 A. The Vision of All Things in God, 21. 
 B. Intelligible Extension, 29. 
 C. The Knowledge of Our Own Minds, 30. 
 D, Our Knowledge of Other Minds, 32. 
 E. Our Knowledge of God, 33. 
 F. Some Critical Considerations, 34. 
 Part III. MALEBRANCHE’S METAPHYSIC Pe abr ais ast oR es ah 
 A. The Nature and Attributes of God, 43. 
 B. God’s Relation to the World, 50. 
 C. The Theory of Occasionalism, 51. 
 D. Malebranche’s Speculation in Relation to Neo- 
 Platonism, Cartesianism, and the Monadology of 
 Leibniz, 61. 
 DIALOGUES 
 First DIALOGUE ge ae: Me Ree Ag ek eteitee Le ; Og 
 
 The soul and its distinction from the body—The nature of ideas 
 —The world in which our bodies dwell and which we survey is 
 quite different from the world which we see. 
 
 CM URISALAS SS. GUUS RIN aN ec heb 0) eke Cee aL. wae tae sm Al de Ophea 
 We see all things in God, and nothing finite is capable of 
 representing Him—Thus it is sufficient to think of Him to 
 
 know that He exists. 
 il 
 
12 CONTENTS 
 
 THIRD DIALOGUE 
 
 The difference between our feelings and our ideas—We must 
 judge of things only by the ideas which are representative of 
 them and not by the feelings by which we are affected through 
 their presence or on their occasion. 
 
 FourtTH DIALOGUE é , ‘ 
 
 The general nature and properties of the senses—The wisdom of 
 the laws of the conjunction of soul and body—This union changed 
 into a relation of dependence by the sin of the first man. 
 
 FirtH DIALOGUE . “ ‘ : 
 
 The function of the senses in the sciences—Our sensations contain 
 a clear idea and a confused feeling—The idea does not belong to 
 the sensation—It is the idea which enlightens the mind and the 
 feeling which stimulates it and renders it attentive; for it is by 
 means of feeling that the intelligible idea becomes sensible. 
 
 SIXTH DIALOGUE 7 " 4 “ 5 
 
 Proofs of the existence of bodies, based on revelation—Two kinds 
 of revelation—Explanation of the fact that the natural revela- 
 tions of the sensations are a source of error. 
 
 SEVENTH DIALOGUE . ; ‘ A i J . ‘ 
 
 The inefficacy of natural causes or the impotence of created things 
 —We are united immediately and directly to God alone. 
 
 EIGHTH DIALOGUE ; j : : A 4 ; 4 6 
 God and His attributes. 
 
 NINTH DIALOGUE . 2 , ‘ “ , : : ‘ 
 
 God always acts in accordance with His nature; He has created 
 all things for the sake of His glory in Jesus Christ, and He did 
 not form His designs without prior regard to the ways of their 
 realisation. 
 
 TENTH DIALOGUE . 3 ‘ 5 ls : m 4 4 i by 
 
 The magnificence of God in the greatness and infinite number 
 of His different works—The simplicity and fecundity of the ways 
 
 PAGE 
 
 99 
 
 12! 
 
 142 
 
 160 
 
 177 
 
 202 
 
 225 
 
 249 
 
CONTENTS 13 
 
 PAGE 
 in which He conserves them and develops them—tThe providence 
 
 of God in the first impression of movement which He communi- 
 cated to matter—This first action, which is not determined by 
 general laws, is regulated by an infinite wisdom. 
 
 ELEVENTH DIALOGUE . . . pee a fe 
 
 The same_ subject continued—General Providence in the 
 arrangement of bodies and the infinitely infinite combinations 
 of the physical with the moral, of the natural with the super- 
 natural. 
 
 TWELFTH DIALOGUE sad yee Nica Tut ies Ub se Nii IY aN : - 297 
 
 The Divine Providence in the laws of the conjunction of soul and 
 body—tThrough this conjunction God brings us into relation 
 with all His works—The laws of the union of the mind 
 with Reason—The formation of societies through these two 
 sorts of law—The distribution among men, through the aid of 
 the angels, of temporary goods, and through Jesus Christ of 
 inner grace and all kinds of good—The generality of Providence. 
 
 THIRTEENTH DIALOGUE a hore ne 
 
 It is not right to criticise the ordinary accounts of Providence— 
 The principal general laws by the aid of which God governs the 
 world—The providence of God in bestowing infallibility upon 
 His Church. 
 
 FOURTEENTH DIALOGUE La ee Ad nse) cathe) Wit) mike). ied ie at a ee 
 The same continued—The incomprehensibility of our mysteries 
 is a conclusive proof of their truth—Elucidation of the dogmas of 
 faith—The incarnation of Jesus Christ—Proof of His divinity 
 against the Socinians—All creatures, even the angels, are able 
 to worship God, through His aid alone—Faith in Jesus Christ 
 renders us acceptable before God. 
 
 INDEX ° 2 e e 373 
 
EO pu ce 
 fe) BAI 
 Dy hge by epg 
 if ead a 
 
 ! 
 
 
 
TRANSLATOR’S INTRODUCTION 
 
 Part I 
 LIFE AND WORKS OF MALEBRANCHE 
 
 NICOLAS MALEBRANCHE was born at Paris on August 6, 1638. 
 He was the son of Nicolas Malebranche, a royal secretary, and 
 of Catherine de Lauzon, a gifted and attractive woman, to whose 
 - influence his most important biographer, Father André,? 
 attributes not only Malebranche’s piety, but the delicacy and 
 charm of his writings. Malebranche was the youngest of a 
 large family. He suffered all his life from malformation of the 
 spine. On this account, he was educated at home till the age 
 of sixteen, when he was sent to the Collége de la Marche. There 
 he studied under Rouillard—an Aristotelian—and graduated 
 Maitre és Arts in 1656. Father André tells us that Malebranche 
 was profoundly dissatisfied with the philosophy that he had been 
 taught, finding it “‘ neither great nor true, full of vain subtleties, 
 perpetual equivocation, lacking in taste and Christian spirit,” 
 
 Intended from the first for the Church, Malebranche then 
 went to the Sorbonne to study theology. But here again he 
 found no satisfaction. Theology, according to Father André, 
 was ‘‘only a confused mass of human opinions, frivolous 
 discussions and hair-splitting subtleties, without any order or 
 principle or rational interconnection.’’ He was offered a canonry 
 at the Notre Dame, but he refused to accept it; and at the age 
 of twenty-two he entered the Oratory, where he studied ecclesi- 
 astical history, Hebrew and Biblical criticism. 
 
 « Cf. La vie du R. P. Malebranche, par le P. André (Paris, Ingold, 1886), 
 
 and the Eloges (1731) of Fontenelle. 
 15 
 
16 LIFE AND WORKS OF MALEBRANCHE 
 
 Malebranche was undoubtedly the child of the Oratory, as 
 well as the disciple of Descartes. The Oratory was founded 
 in 1611 by Cardinal Bérulle, who had a profound veneration 
 for St. Augustine, and, through his influence, St. Augustine 
 became the favoured theologian of the institution. Through 
 St. Augustine interest was aroused in Platonism. Although 
 Bérulle was a friend of Descartes, he did not introduce the Carte- 
 sian doctrine into the Oratory. This was done by his successor 
 —Father de Condren—and very soon there were at the Oratory 
 numerous adherents of Descartes. Their philosophy, however, 
 always retained that tendency towards idealism and Platonism 
 which is so characteristic of Malebranche. Especially was 
 this so in the case of André Martin, better known as Ambrosius 
 Victor, who was the first professor of the congregation to lead his 
 pupils to the study of Descartes’ philosophy. His work entitled 
 Philosophia Christiana,! though Descartes is not mentioned in it, 
 is really an attempt at a synthesis of the doctrines of Descartes 
 and St. Augustine, and anticipates Malebranche’s teaching in 
 several respects. 
 
 We learn from Father André that at first Malebranche only 
 knew the works of Descartes at second-hand, and even that 
 he was “‘extremement prévenu contre ce philosophe.’’ Be 
 this as it may, the story goes that at the age of twenty-six he 
 accidentally picked up at a bookstall Descartes’ little treatise 
 De Homine. He was struck by its method, and was especially 
 attracted by the idea of a universal mechanics. ‘‘ The joy of 
 becoming acquainted with so large a number of discoveries caused 
 him such palpitations of the heart that he was obliged to stop 
 reading in order to recover his breath.’”’ He immediately set 
 himself to study systematically mathematics and the books 
 of Descartes. He always retained his admiration for Descartes, 
 ““who’’ he said, “in thirty years has discovered more truths 
 than all the other philosophers put together.”’ 
 
 After ten years’ study, Malebranche published the first 
 volume of the Recherche de la Vérité, in 1674, and the second 
 volume appeared in 1675. The book was a great success, and 
 was admired by many thinkers, including Arnauld, Fénélon and 
 Bossuet. The congregation of the Oratory passed a special vote 
 of commendation. In the lifetime of the author the work passed 
 
 t Philosophia Christiana seu sanctus Augustinus de philosophia unt- 
 veysim, 1671, 
 
LIFE AND WORKS OF MALEBRANCHE 17 
 
 through six editions, and was constantly revised and enlarged 
 by supplementary explanations. It was translated into Latin 
 by the Abbé L’Enfant, a member of the Academy of Berlin, under 
 the title De Inquirtenda verttate, libri sex, Geneva, 1685, and 
 was eagerly studied in Italy, Spain, Germany, and Holland. In 
 England two translations appeared, one by Brook Taylor,! a 
 secretary of the Royal Society, and another by R. Sault.? 
 The book, however, called forth lively opposition, in the first 
 place from the ultra-Cartesians, and in the second place and 
 especially from the theologians. A discussion with regard to 
 his doctrine of Grace led to a meeting between Malebranche 
 and his most formidable opponent, Antoine Arnauld. Malebranche 
 promised to give an exposition of his views in writing, and this 
 he did in the Tratté de la Nature et de la Grace. Arnauld replied 
 in his book Des vrates et des fausses Idées, published in 1683, in 
 which he attacked the whole basis of Malebranche’s metaphysical 
 system. The polemic, thus begun, lasted many years, constantly 
 increasing in bitterness. Arnauld was anxious to humble 
 Malebranche’s “‘ pride, boastfulness and impertinence.” Male- 
 branche restated his position in various forms and constantly 
 complained of being misunderstood—a fact which made Boileau 
 ask, “‘ Eh, mon pére, qui donc voulex-vous qui vous comprenne ?’”’ 
 The treatise on Grace was put on the Index in 1690. 
 
 Apart from his polemical writings, Malebranche was the 
 
 author of many important works. The Entretiens sur la Méta-»— 
 
 physique was published in 1688, and may be regarded as the 
 finished and definitive exposition of his philosophy. Without 
 being deliberately polemical, it deals with all the points in his 
 metaphysics that had been contested. 
 
 Malebranche devoted much of his attention to purely te 
 
 scientific work. Fontenelle 3 thought him a great geometrician 
 and physicist, and he was elected a member of the ‘‘ Académie 
 Royale des Sciences’ in 1699, in recognition of his Tyvatté des 
 lois de la Communication du Mouvement. He may be regarded 
 
 t Father Malebranche’s Treatise concerning the Search after Truth, 2 vols. 
 Oxford, 1694. 
 
 a Malebranche’s Search after Truth, ov a Treatise of the Nature of the 
 Humane Mind and of its Management for avoiding Error in the Sciences. 
 There is contained a life of Malebranche, together with some account of his 
 controversies, written by Le Vasseur and translated by R. Sault. 2 vols, 
 London, 1694-5. 
 
 3 Eloge de Malebrancke. 
 
ig LIFE AND WORKS OF MALEBRANCHE 
 
 as one of the founders of the science of the infinitesimal calculus, 
 and was the editor of the Analyse des infiniment petits, by de 
 L’H6pital. He modified considerably Descartes’ doctrine of vor- 
 tices. In his Réflexions surla Lumiére, les Couleurs et la Génération 
 du Feu (Mémoires de l’Académie des Sciences, 1699), he tried to 
 give a connected explanation of light and colour by ascribing 
 them both to disturbances in a luminiferous fluid. 
 
 In this connection, reference may be made to his corre- 
 spondence with Leibniz. Leibniz was in Paris in 1672, and 
 appears to have had many conversations with Malebranche. 
 In the treatise last mentioned, Malebranche acknowledges the 
 justice of Leibniz’s criticism of the Cartesian view of the con- 
 stancy of the quantity of movement in the Universe. Leibniz 
 wrote critical notes on this treatise, but he never published them. 
 Malebranche’s subsequent essay Des injiniment petits was also 
 submitted to Leibniz, and was eventually published at the end 
 of the Recherche de la Vérité in the edition of 1700. 
 
 In addition to his interest in physics and mathematics, 
 Malebranche also devoted himself to anatomy, and above all 
 to a study of the life of insects. For literary erudition, he seems 
 to have had a great contempt. He was more moved, he tells us, 
 by observation of the ways of an insect than by the whole 
 history of Greece and Rome, and in a single principle of physics 
 and of morals he found more truth than in all the books of 
 history. Despite his contempt for literature, however, he was 
 himself possessed of a graceful and attractive style, and 
 though he constantly declaimed against imagination, he had, as 
 Fontenelle said, ‘“‘a very noble and living imagination himself, 
 which worked for an ‘ingrat’ despite himself, and adorned his 
 reason while constantly hiding itself from it.”” Leibniz, Diderot 
 and many others agree in praising Malebranche’s lucidity and 
 elegance of phrasing, and Voltaire even recommended his writings 
 as a model of philosophical exposition. ‘‘ His diction,’ as 
 Fontenelle says, “‘is pure and chaste, and has all the dignity 
 which the subject requires and all the grace of which it admits.” 
 
 The life of Malebranche was essentially that of a thinker. 
 Already at college, his teachers described him as “‘ pieux’”’ and 
 ““ méditatif ’’ ; and the whole of his subsequent career was devoted 
 to quiet meditation and communion with God. In polemic 
 he invariably engaged against his own will. His best work was 
 done in the quiet of the country. He had, as he put it, no need 
 
 be 
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 5 
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LIFE AND WORKS OF MALEBRANCHE 19 
 
 of books. “‘ There are few, or no books, which please me. 
 When I was only twenty-five I understood what I read in books, 
 but now I do not understand them for the most part at all.’’! 
 He was, however, by no means a recluse. He was visited by 
 numerous scholars from all parts of the world, and he carried on 
 an extensive correspondence. He took great delight in talking 
 to and playing with children, and would invent stories for them 
 with wonderful facility. His personal charm, his nobility of 
 mind, his love of truth, his winning modesty, simplicity and 
 sincerity, made him universally beloved, and contributed, in 
 no small measure, to the success and fame of his work. 
 
 He was taken ill while staying with a friend of his family 
 at Villeneuve-Saint-Georges. He was brought back to the 
 Oratory, and died after four months of great suffering. His 
 disease, says Fontenelle, ‘‘ adapted itself to his philosophy. The 
 body, which he so much despised, was reduced to nothing ; but 
 like the mind, accustomed to supremacy, continued sane and sound. 
 He remained throughout a calm spectator of his own long death, 
 the last moment of which was such that it was believed he was 
 merely resting.’’ This is confirmed by the detailed description 
 of his illness and death given by Father André,? who tells us that 
 Malebranche died during the night of October 13, 1715, without 
 fever or inflammation, out of sheer exhaustion. It may be added 
 that this detailed account of Father André leaves no room for 
 the story that Malebranche’s death was hastened by a dispute 
 with Berkeley. Indeed, there appears to be no evidence to 
 show that the two philosophers ever met at all. 
 
 t Lettre 4 M. Barrant, Correspondence inédite, p. 4. 
 
 2 Cf. La vie du R. P. Malebranche, by Father André, concluding 
 chapters. 
 
 LIST OF THE PRINCIPAL WORKS OF MALEBRANCHE 
 
 PHILOSOPHICAL AND RELIGIOUS: 
 De la Recherche de la Vérité, 1674-5. 
 (Latin translation under title De inquivenda Vevitate, by 
 J. L’Enfant, at Geneva, 1685; English translation by 
 R. Sault, 1692; and T. Taylor, under title, Treatise 
 concerning the Search after Truth, 1694.) 
 
20 
 
 LIFE AND WORKS OF MALEBRANCHE 
 
 Conversations chrétiennes, 1675. 
 (English translation, 1695.) 
 Petites Méditations chrétiennes, 1677. 
 Traité de la Natuve et de la Grace, 1680. 
 (English translation, 1695.) 
 Eclaircissement, ou la Suite du Traité de la Nature et de la Grace, 1681. 
 Méditations chrétiennes et métaphysiques, 1683. 
 Traité de Morale, 1683. 
 (English translation by Sir J. Shipton, under title, A 
 Treatise of Morality, 1699.) 
 Entretiens sur la Métaphysique et sur la Religion, 1688. 
 Entretiens sur la Mort, 1696. 
 Traité de l Amour de Dieu, 1697. 
 Entretien d’un Philosophe chrétien avec un Philosophe chinois, sur 
 VExistence et la Nature de Dieu, 1708. 
 Réflexions sur la Prémotion physique, 1715. 
 
 SCIENTIFIC : 
 
 Traité des Lois de la Communication des Mouvements, 1682. 
 Réflexions sur la Lumiere et les Couleurs et la Génévation du Feu 
 (Mémoires de l’Académie des Sciences, 1699). 
 
 POLEMICAL : 
 
 Défense de V Auteur de la Recherche de la Vérité contre Vv Accusation 
 de M. Louis de la Ville, 1682. 
 
 Réponse de l’Auteur de la Recherche de la Vérité au lure de M. 
 Arnauld des vraies et des fausses Idées, 1684. 
 
 Lettves du P. Malebranche a un de ses amis, 1686. 
 
 Lettves du P. Malebranche touchant celles de M. Arnauld, 1687. 
 
 képonse a M. Regis, 1693. 
 
 Trots Letives de Réponse au P. Lamy et une Réponse générale suivie 
 d’un supplément, 1699-1700. 
 
 Réponse du P. Malebranche a la 3° lettre de M. Arnauld, 1704. 
 
 Recueil de toutes les Résponses du P. Malebranche a2 M. Arnauild, 
 1709. 
 
 
 
 ee a nS 
 
 
 
Part II 
 
 MALEBRANCHE’S THEORY OF 
 KNOWLEDGE 
 
 A. The Vision of All Things in God. 
 
 The fundamental principles of Malebranche’s theory of know- 
 ledge are undoubtedly Cartesian in character. He starts from 
 the view that soul and body are substances whose positive 
 attributes are mutually exclusive. The essence of body or 
 corporeal reality is extension, and its properties can consist only 
 in spatial relations, rest, movement and figure. The essence 
 of mind, on the other hand, is thought or consciousness. It 
 will be seen later that the modes of thought cannot be said to be 
 as Clearly involved in its essence as is the case with regard to the 
 modes of extension. We know, however, by inner experience, 
 that the mind can feel and will, judge, doubt, etc., and that these 
 activities must be modes of the soul. Malebranche draws an 
 elaborate parallel between mind and matter. The latter has two 
 qualities,—namely, the capacity of receiving figure and the 
 capacity of movement. So, too, the mind has firstly, the capacity 
 of understanding, or of receiving ideas, and secondly, will, or the 
 capacity of forming inclinations. The main object of this parallel 
 is to show, in the first place, that the faculties which can be 
 distinguished in mind, viz. understanding and will, are not to 
 be conceived as separate entities, any more than the capacities 
 possessed by matter, of receiving figures and of being moved, 
 are distinct from matter ; and in the second place, to bring out the 
 consideration that neither mind nor matter has any power or 
 activity of its own, but that just as God is the ultimate and real 
 cause of all movements in the sphere of extension, so He is the 
 universal cause of all ideas and inclinations. 
 
 It follows that the mind is essentially passive. Will is 
 31 
 
22 MALEBRANCHE’S THEORY OF KNOWLEDGE 
 
 secondary in character, is not included in the mind’s essence, 
 and our knowledge of it is so obscure that we are unable to deduce 
 its properties. The real nature of mind consists in a passive 
 capacity of receiving ideas. The different modes of knowledge 
 are merely different ways in which the understanding manifests 
 itself. Three such modes are distinguished by Malebranche. 
 Firstly, by pure understanding we know spiritual things, 
 universals, common notions, ideas of perfection, e.g. the infinite 
 Perfection, extension and its properties. Secondly, by the 
 imagination we know material things in their absence, by means 
 of “traces”? in the brain. Thirdly, by the senses we know sensible 
 objects, through impressions produced upon our sense organs, by 
 the objects themselves when present, and by the animal spirits 
 when absent. Sense and imagination are really the under- 
 standing when it is aware of objects through means of the 
 organs of the body.t Judgment means for Malebranche, as 
 for Descartes, acquiescence on the part of the will in what is 
 presented to it by the. understanding, The latter does not 
 judge but merely apperceives, and the will is free to give its 
 consent or refuse it. The source of error, Malebranche argues, 
 just as Descartes had done, lies in the will and not in the 
 understanding. 
 
 In all this there is hardly. any advance on. the..teaching of 
 Descartes. Between the two thinkers there are, however, some 
 far-reaching differences, and these are due in the first place to 
 the fact that Malebranche worked out much more thoroughly 
 than Descartes had done the logical consequences of the Cartesian 
 dualism of mind and matter; and, in the second place, to the 
 influence of St. Augustine and neo-Platonism, or perhaps more 
 generally to his profoundly religious sense of the dependence 
 of the finite mind upon the Infinite and his desire to find in 
 the divine reason the ground of the human intellect. 
 
 Descartes does not appear to have fully faced the difficulties 
 in his theory of perception which arise from the sharp separation 
 of mind from matter. In the main his doctrine seems to have 
 been that the soul, or mind, has within itself dispositions to ideas 
 of extension, movement and figure; and that, on the occasion 
 
 1 Cf. Recherche, Bk. 1I.,Ch.1I. Despite the statement made by Malebranche 
 that sense and thought are merely different forms of the understanding, 
 the real tendency of his philosophy is to institute a sharp distinction of kind 
 between them. 
 
 a ee 
 
 eh Re — nee 
 
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 a 
 
 Ss 
 
THE VISION OF ALL THINGS IN GOD 23 
 
 of certain movements or impressions, produced upon the sense 
 organs and carried to the brain, these ideas arise in the 
 mind, or are occasioned in it. The impressions or, as they were 
 called by the latter Cartesians, corporeal species (cf. de la Forge) 
 are not themselves known to the mind, but act merely as 
 occasions or conditions of the knowledge of objects on the part 
 of the mind. What happens, then, in perception is that bodies 
 communicate movements to the sense organs and to the brain, 
 i.e. to the pineal gland, where the soul is present, and thus excite 
 in it the sensations of colour, etc., at the same time calling 
 up the ideas of extension and movement, which ideas then take 
 the particular determination, corresponding to and resembling 
 the bodies which call them forth, Perception of an object, 
 therefore, presupposes, firstly, a power in bodies to act on 
 the mind and cause it to produce ideas, or to call forth ideas 
 which are potentially in it, and, secondly, a faculty in the mind 
 to give rise toideas. But even in the writings of Descartes there 
 are many passages in which the action of bodies is confined to 
 providing occasion for the mind to call up the ideas innate in it. 
 Be this as it may, Malebranche explicitly denies both these pre- 
 suppositions. The ascription of forces to nature or of faculties 
 to mind is due, he argues, to our blind reliance on the evidence 
 
 | of thesenses. Not only is mind unable to act on matter, or matter 
 
 _ on mind, but all activity, either within the sphere of extension, 
 
 _ or within the sphere of thought, is divine activity. Finite causes 
 _ are at the most occasional causes. The real cause of the move- 
 _ ment which takes place, on the occasion of an impact, is God. 
 
 So, too, the real cause of our ideas cannot lie in ourselves. Man 
 
 cannot be a light unto himself, he insists, in the language of 
 St. Augustine. The account of perception given by Descartes 
 
 is therefore liable to the two-fold objection, (a) that it involves 
 
 interaction between the two entirely disparate substances of 
 
 Causes 
 
 mind and matter, and (d) that it ascribes to the finite mind a 
 
 power which is inconsistent with the doctrine of “ occasional 
 *’ when fully developed. 
 
 In various places, Malebranche expresses dissatisfaction 
 with Descartes’ views as to the nature of ideas. The definitions 
 of the term ‘‘ idea ” given by Malebranche and Descartes resemble 
 one another very closely. Thus Malebranche says, an “‘idea”’ 
 is “‘ ce qui est l’objet immediat ou le plus proche de l’esprit quand 
 il apercoit quelque objet.’”’ For Descartes an ‘‘idea” is “‘ipsa 
 
24 MALEBRANCHE’S THEORY OF KNOWLEDGE 
 
 res cogitata quatenus est objectivo in intellectu.”’ Descartes 
 often uses the term “‘ idea ”’ to represent sensory qualities. Thus, 
 he speaks of the ‘‘ sensation ” or “‘ idea ”’ (sensus vel idea) of colour 
 and heat. Malebranche’s definition would seem to comprise 
 under “‘idea”’ all that we are aware of when we know an object, 
 and in the case of an object of the senses this should include 
 sense-qualities. Here, however, a distinction of great importance 
 for his general theory must be noted. The sense-qualities are 
 on Cartesian principles modifications of. the soul, they belong, 
 that is, not to the object apprehended, but to the subject. As 
 such, they.are not known by way of idea, but by inner feeling w 
 (sentiment intérieur). The term ‘idea ”’ in Malebranche’ s actual - 
 usage is restricted to the apprehended essence of a thing, to 
 what in later.phraseology might be described as the objective — 
 element in knowledge, which, in the case of bodies, would, of 
 course, be extension. Now, with regard to essences, Descartes — 
 shows a good deal of hesitation. In some places (e.g. Méditations, 
 V.) he speaks of them as eternal and immutable, independent of 
 finite thought. In other places (e.g. Principles, Pt. I. LIX.) 
 he regards them as abstractions or generalisations made by the 
 individual, on the basis of his experience of individual objects. 
 Further, essences, and it may be added laws, were regarded by 
 Descartes as dependent upon the arbitrary will of God. Male- 
 branche argues that, since they represent the essences of things, 
 ideas are as such immutable, infinite, necessary, universal, and 
 are, therefore, independent of any mind, finite or infinite. To 
 this contention we will return later. Meanwhile, attention 
 must be drawn to a further distinction which was familiar to 
 some of the Cartesians, the distinction, namely, between the 
 act of apprehending and the object or content apprehended. 
 The former was designated sometimes by the term “perception,” 
 the latter by the term ‘“‘idea.’’ There can be no doubt that 
 underlying Malebranche’s theory of knowledge there was the 
 implicit assumption that to knowa thing, the mind must, in some 
 sense, be that thing, that, in other words, knowledge involved 
 a kind of mystic union or identification of that which knows 
 with that which is known. On such an assumption, only an 
 omnipresent being, a being “‘ which was at the same time one 
 and all things,’’ could know everything in and through himself. 
 With regard to finite minds, on the other hand, the question 
 arose, how acts which are necessarily temporal, changeable, finite, 
 
THE VISION OF ALL THINGS IN GOD 25 
 
 could know ideas which are, as we have seen, eternal, immutable, 
 infinite. In his various writings, Malebranche is constantly 
 reverting to this question. How can a finite being have modifi- 
 cations which represent the infinite? How can a particular 
 being become so modified as to represent, for example, a figure 
 in general, or the immensity of extension, or the infinite 
 perfection? The finite being cannot be its own light. These 
 words of St. Augustine are repeatedly reiterated by Male- 
 branche in his discussions with Arnauld. It is clear that, along 
 such a line of thought, the act or process of thinking is entirely 
 separate from the content apprehended ; and it is likewise clear 
 that it becomes difficult to say in what precisely that act consists. 
 In the long run, it resolves itself into the mere presence of ideas to 
 or the passive reception of them by, or a mystic union of them 
 with, the finite soul. Malebranche adopts the solution of the 
 problem that is furnished by St. Augustine. St. Augustine, too, 
 was confronted with the necessity of accounting for the eternal 
 validity and timeless character that attached to the rattones 
 aterne, and he, too, distinguished between the act or process 
 of knowing and the content or idea known. The former is an act or 
 process of the individual who is aware, the latter is independent, 
 necessary and unchangeable, and, as such, could not be due to the 
 individual mind. The individual mind might, indeed, discover 
 it, but could not be its source; man could not be a light unto 
 himself. The solution of the difficulty St. Augustine found in 
 the hypostatisation of truth and the ascription to truth of a 
 reality over against the individual mind. Truth, the intelligible 
 light, is God Himself. To explain the possibility of knowledge 
 on the part of the finite mind, St. Augustine made use of the 
 neo-Platonic conception of illumination, or radiation. The 
 finite soul is illumined by the eternal light. We see the eternal 
 truths in God, in whom and through whom all things have 
 being and light, in the Eternal Wisdom, the Divine Logos, — 
 Following Plotinus and the neo-Platonists, St. Augustine con- 
 ceived of eternal truths as thoughts of the divine mind. The 
 ideas were the archetypes and models of all that is created, the 
 eternal immutable numbers, in accordance with which the 
 world of change and succession was moulded, framed and 
 regulated. True reality lay in them alone. All else exists or 
 has being only so far as it participates in, or is an imitation of, 
 the true reality of the mundus tntelligibilis. Herein he is 
 
eee 
 
 26 MALEBRANCHE’S THEORY OF KNOWLEDGE 
 
 followed very closely by Malebranche. The universal necessity 
 and the immutability of truths can only be accounted for, accord- 
 ing to Malebranche, by the fact that we all share or participate in 
 a common reason, that we see all things in God, that man is an 
 animal vationis particeps in the sense that he is united with 
 the universal Reason, which is co-eternal and consubstantial 
 with God, a reason which contains the essences of all things and 
 
 _in which all things abide eternally. 
 
 Along this line of reflection, Malebranche is driven to deepen 
 the distinction between essence and existence, and to develop 
 a theory of truth which goes beyond that of Descartes. While 
 Descartes thought that truths were dependent upon the arbitrary 
 will of God as “‘souverain législateur,”” Malebranche urges that 
 such a view would make any real science impossible. The 
 divine will itself is dependent upon the immutable order or 
 relations which subsist between the ideas and which constitutes 
 truth. God contains within Himself the “intelligible perfections ”’ 
 of all things, possible or actual, and through them He knows 
 their essences, while through His volitions He is aware of their 
 existence. Truths are relations of equality or inequality between 
 ideas. Thus, since it is true that 2-+2-= 4, and false that 
 2-+ 2 = 5, there is a relation of eqality between 2-+ 2 and 4, 
 and a relation of inequality between 2-+2 and 5. The 
 relations are as immutable as the ideas themselves, and it is 
 impossible that they should ever become false. 
 
 Furthermore, Malebranche supplements this theory of truth 
 with a theory of order or divine law which is the basis of 
 morality. The relations which subsist between ideas are of 
 two kinds. On the one hand, there are relations of equality 
 or inequality in magnitude (gvandeur), and on the other hand 
 there are relations of perfection. The perfections which are 
 in God represent entities possible or actual, and are not all of 
 equal value. Within the sphere of the ideas representing 
 bodies and within the sphere of ideas representing minds there 
 are infinite differences of degree of nobility. If it be asked 
 how the infinite can admit of degree, Malebranche replies that 
 there are similar relations between infinite perfections as 
 between finite things, and that all infinites are not necessarily 
 equal, Just as we can discover the relations which subsist 
 between incommensurable numbers, though we are unable to 
 
 t Eclaircissements, X, Méditations chrétiennes, I. 
 
THE VISION OF ALL THINGS IN GOD 27 
 
 determine the relations in which they stand to unity, so we can 
 determine to some extent the relations between the various 
 infinite perfections. If these ideas are not of equal perfection, 
 there must be an immutable and necessary order expressing 
 relations of perfection. The order, however, is so far merely a 
 speculative truth. But God loves His own substance necessarily. 
 It is this love, indeed, which constitutes the Divine will, and the 
 Divine will is determined in accordance with the immutable 
 order of God’s perfections. It follows that this immutable 
 order has the force of a law or moral imperative on God, and 
 @ fortiort on us.% 
 
 With the conception of an immutable order Malebranche 
 connects his explanation of beauty. All beauty, at least the 
 beauty which is the object of the intellect (esprit), is plainly 
 an imitation of the immutable order. He instances painting 
 and music. Sensuous beauty, however, is deprecated: ‘Il n’y 
 a rien qui affaiblisse tant l’esprit et qui corrompe tant l’esprit.’’? 
 
 The immutable order of ideas thus constitutes the divine 
 reason, its wisdom and its justice. Not only so. Because our 
 souls are intimately united with God, or, as Malebranche some- 
 times puts it, because God isthe. place.of.spirits,.just.as space 
 the place..of bodies,” the essences in the divine intellect are 
 also the immediate objects of the human mind. In truth, 
 finite minds were called into being only to know and love God, 
 and they can know things only in and through God. The idea 
 of the Infinite underlies all our knowledge and is presupposed 
 init, Particular ideas are only participations in the general idea 
 of the Infinite, just as created things are but imperfect participa- 
 tions in the Divine Being. All our knowledge is a determination 
 of the knowledge we have of God, just as our volitions are 
 determinations of the general tendency towards the Good or 
 the love which God bears towards Himself out of the necessity 
 of His own being. The ultimate basis of all knowledge is not 
 the conception of a collective sum of being, arrived at by an 
 amalgamation of the ideas of particular beings, but rather the 
 conception of the Infinite, i.e. reality as a whole, or the essence 
 of reality, in which finite things only imperfectly participate. 
 Descartes, too, had urged that the idea of the Infinite is prior 
 
 
 
 t Tyaité de l’amour de Diew; Entretiens, VIII; Eclaircissements, X; 
 Méditations chrétiennes, IV ; Traité de la morale. 
 2 Méditations chrétiennes, IV 
 
28 MALEBRANCHE’S THEORY OF KNOWLEDGE 
 
 to the idea of the finite and is presupposed in it. Malebranche 
 strenuously maintains that at the basis of all finite thought 
 there lies the idea of the Infinite, that it is only in and through 
 God that we know anything at all. The acts of perception or 
 of knowing are individual, peculiar to individuals, though they 
 may resemble one another; but the truths which we know are 
 common to all, immutable, necessary and eternal, and, therefore, 
 can have their being only in the eternal and immutable essence 
 
 of the divinity. 
 
 Along the line of thought just sketched, Malebranche follows 
 pretty closely the doctrine of St. Augustine. But he differs from 
 that doctrine with regard to our knowledge of sensible objects. 
 He points out that, although St. Augustine had given a better 
 explanation of the relation between soul and body than any 
 of his predecessors, he had, nevertheless, erred in attributing 
 sensible qualities to bodies, and, he adds, that the difference 
 between body and soul was not clearly known until quite recently 
 (depuis quelques années). Elsewhere he tells us that he had 
 learnt the doctrine of ideas from St. Augustine. Apparently 
 his aim was to effect a synthesis between the latter doctrine 
 and the teaching of Descartes with respect to the relation between 
 mind and body and the distinction between primary and secondary 
 qualities. According to St. Augustine, individual objects were 
 known by means of the senses; and, although the knowledge 
 thus obtained, concerned as it was with the world of change 
 and generation, could not be called knowledge proper, but was 
 merely opinion, no doubt was thrown on the existence of the 
 sensible world. Indeed, in a sense, even the eternal truths 
 could be legitimately applied to the particulars of sense. The 
 laws of number, for example, were the norms which we can 
 use in dealing with tones, figures and movements. Similarly 
 we can judge of material things in accordance with the laws 
 of space and geometrical figures. This position Malebranche 
 could not accept; he had inherited a distrust of the senses 
 from Descartes, and he accepted the distinction drawn by 
 Descartes between primary and secondary qualities. With 
 regard to the latter, the senses, Malebranche argued, plainly 
 deceive us. Colours, for example, are not really spread out 
 over the surface of bodies, as the senses lead us to believe, but are 
 sensations or modifications of the soul. The senses have, indeed. 
 the valuable function of warning us of the existence of bodies, 
 
 
 
 
 
THE VISION OF ALL THINGS IN GOD 29 
 
 And the sensations which the soul experiences, on the occasion 
 of their presence, serye as a “revelation ’’ of great importance 
 for the preservation of life, but they are false witnesses with 
 reference to the real nature of bodies; in order to become 
 aware of that real nature, we require an idea which is repre- 
 sentative, in other words, we can only know things by seeing 
 their archetype in the mind of God. Malebranche was, therefore, 
 led to conclude, as against St. Augustine, that we see all things, 
 including bodies, in God, and not merely general truths. 
 
 é 
 
 B. Intelligible Extension. 
 
 a»? 
 
 In the earlier editions of the Recherche no use is made of this 
 conception ; and, as Arnauld pointed out, Malebranche often 
 speaks as though in the mind of God there were the ideas of all 
 things.t Yet, since ideas are equivalent to the essences of things 
 and the essence of all bodies is extension, the transition from 
 ideas of sensible objects to one idea embracing them all was 
 easily made. We shall see later how Malebranche endeavours 
 to distinguish intelligible extension from the divine immensity 
 on the one hand, and from what he calls local or material 
 extension on the other. Meanwhile, we have to consider the 
 way in which he conceives we arrive at a knowledge of 
 particular objects by means of this idea.3_ Intelligible extension 
 is the essence or idea or archetype of matter. It is that in 
 God which is the source of all that is real in bodies, the substance 
 of God, in so far as such substance is representative of bodies. 
 It is that which, in the phraseology of a later time, might be 
 called the objective element in our apprehension of the material 
 world. Sensible qualities, on the other hand, are subjective, 
 particular, and do not belong to the essence of matter. Neither 
 can they be its modifications, for its modifications can only 
 consist of spatial relations, or relations of distance, as Male- 
 branche calls them, By diverse applications of this idea, we 
 are able to obtain, on the one hand, a knowledge of intelligible 
 figures, i.e. of the objects of the mathematical sciences, and on 
 
 1 ** Toutes les créatures méme les plus matérielles et les plus tervresives 
 sont en Dieu, quoi-que d’une maniére plus spirituelle.”’ 
 
 2 See the Eclaircissements sur le troisieme livre de la Recherche, Ch. X, 
 
 3 Ecl., Réponse & Regis, Ch. I1; Entretiens; Réponse & Arnauld. 
 
30 MALEBRANCHE’S THEORY OF KNOWLEDGE 
 
 the other hand, a knowledge of sensible figures, i.e. of bodies. 
 In the former case, we have a clear idea, a pure perception of 
 intelligible extension, limited or bounded in certain definite 
 ways. In the latter case, we have an idea of extension, similarly 
 limited, but, in addition, there arise in the soul, owing to the 
 laws of the conjunction of soul and body, certain modifications, 
 i.e. feelings or sensations of colour and light. In other words, 
 it is the sensible qualities, especially colour, which render it 
 possible for intelligible extension to become sensible, and which 
 enable us to get a knowledge of different objects out of the idea 
 of extension which is the same throughout. Knowledge of 
 objects, then, involves (a) an idea of extension, (b) a mass of 
 ' sensations, which we mistakenly ascribe to the extension, but 
 which are, in truth, modifications of the soul. 
 
 Our awareness of movement is explained after a similar 
 fashion. Since the volitions of God do not change, intelligible 
 extension is not movable even intelligibly,—that is to say, the 
 parts of intelligible extension always retain the same relation 
 of distance to one another. If, however, an intelligible figure, 
 tendered sensible by means of colour, is taken successively from 
 different parts of intelligible extension, or, in other words, if we 
 attach the same sensation of colour successively to different 
 parts, we shall see the figure successively in different places, 
 it will appear to us to be moving, although intelligible extension 
 remains unmoved; and we are thus enabled to become aware 
 of movement in actually existing material extension, though 
 in intelligible extension, or in the essence of extension, as it 
 is in the mind of God, there is no movement. 
 
 C. The Knowledge of Our Own Minds. 
 
 With respect to the knowledge we have of ourselves, Male- 
 branche differs profoundly from Descartes and the stricter 
 Cartesians. He agrees with them as regards the certainty of 
 the existence of soul and of its distinction from the body. But 
 while they thought the soul was better known than extension, 
 Malebranche is of opinion that of the nature of the soul we are 
 utterly ignorant. To know a thing is to have a clear idea of it, 
 to know the modifications of which it is capable, the relations 
 in which it stands to other things. Now, we have no idea of 
 
THE KNOWLEDGE OF OUR OWN MINDS 31 
 
 the soul, we do not, except by experience, know of what 
 modifications it is capable. For example, if we had never felt 
 pleasure or pain, we should not know whether the soul was or 
 was not capable of them. We do not know the relations of 
 minds to one another, nor the relations between the various 
 modifications of the soul, e.g. pleasure and pain, heat and colour, 
 nor even the relation of similar colours to one another. Nor 
 do we know the real relation of the soul to the body, nor the 
 nature of their union; and we could not tell whether the soul 
 in itself, and apart from the body, was or was not capable of 
 memory. Since thereisin the mind of God an idea of all things, 
 there must be an archetype and model of all created souls; but 
 this idea or archetype God does not disclose to us. We know 
 by inner feeling (conscience ou sentiment intérteur) that we are; 
 we do not know what we are. 
 
 Some recent writers, notably Cassirer! and Novaro,? discern 
 in this view of Malebranche a determination to restrict the 
 science of mind to the phenomenal. As a result of a critical 
 analysis of the notion of substance, Malebranche, they think, 
 is urging scientific investigators to give up the search for a 
 “subject ’”’ lying beyond the world of phenomena, and to confine 
 themselves to the empirical subject. I do not conceive that this 
 view can be substantiated. No doubt, seeing that there is no idea 
 of the soul, there can be no a@ prtort or deductive science of 
 psychology. But it is entirely misleading to represent Male- 
 branche as an advocate of empirical methods in psychology. On 
 the contrary, he pursues the ontological method. It is in God 
 that he seeks to determine the nature of the human mind. His 
 doctrine of parallelism, for example, is not a scientific hypothesis 
 resulting from observed facts, but is based upon his metaphysical 
 conception of the impotence of finite creatures and the omnipo- 
 tence of God. So, too, he determines the nature of human 
 inclinations not by observation but in accordance with a 
 standard laid down by him as to what they ought to be con- 
 sistently with the real end of man, namely, the glory of God.3 
 Moreover, it is difficult to see wherein Malebranche has criticised 
 the notion of substance. He accepts it from Descartes and 
 defines it in the same way as Descartes had defined it. He 
 
 t Erkenninissproblem, I., p. 558. 
 
 2 Die Philosophie des Nicolas Malebranche. 
 3 Cf. Recherche, Bk. IV. 
 
32 MALEBRANCHE’S THEORY OF KNOWLEDGE 
 
 assumes throughout that mind and body are substances; and, 
 in his discussion of extension and matter, his point lies not in 
 rejecting the notion of substance, but rather in proving that 
 the substance of matter can be nothing but extension. Like- 
 wise, so far as the soul is concerned, he does not deny its 
 substantiality ; he merely protests that we have no clear idea of 
 it. The real motive of Malebranche’s teaching in this connection 
 was his fear of a pantheistic notion of the soul to which he felt 
 himself drifting against his will. If we had an idea of ourselves, 
 i.e. if we knew ourselves as in the mind of God, the conclusion 
 that our individual existence is an illusion, that finite souls are 
 but particular modifications of the divine or universal mind, 
 could hardly have been resisted. 
 
 D. Our Knowledge of Other Minds. 
 
 Malebranche’s explanation of the way in which we come 
 to know other minds than our own is still more precarious. It 
 is clear that we cannot know them in themselves, or directly, 
 for God alone can “ penetrate our minds and reveal Himself 
 to us.” Neither can we know other minds through means of 
 ideas ; for, as we have seen, although God contains within Him- 
 self the archetypes of all minds, He does not disclose those 
 archetypes to us. The third method of knowledge called by 
 Malebranche “conscience”’ is unavailing here, since we can 
 have no inner feeling of what is outside us. Considerations 
 of this sort compel Malebranche to say that we know other 
 minds only by conjecture. I guess or infer that there are other 
 minds similar to my own, because I sometimes have thoughts, 
 not occasioned by my will, and accompanied by certain sensa- 
 tions, which lead me to conclude that they are due to beings re- 
 sembling myself. It is true these sensations of sound and colour 
 are entirely subjective, i.e. modifications of my mind, and do not 
 warrant a belief even in the existence of bodies, and if they did, 
 there would still be the possibility that God was making those 
 bodies an occasion or instrument for the communication of ideas 
 to my mind. Nevertheless, the ideas or thoughts which come 
 to me in that way are such “as to lead me naturally to believe 
 that there exists a mind similar to my own, which has con- 
 ceived them and which has desired to communicate them to 
 
OUR KNOWLEDGE OF OTHER MINDS 33 
 
 me.”’! It would appear, then, that the only ground for our 
 belief in the existence of other minds is such “natural in- 
 clination.”’ Yet, as we shall see, Malebranche, differing in 
 this respect from Descartes, refused to rely on such a natural 
 inclination when dealing with the existence of bodies, and was 
 compelled in the end to have recourse to faith for a proof of their 
 existence. The existence of other minds must, therefore, be 
 at least as problematic as that of bodies. 
 
 E. Our Knowledge of God. 
 
 Respecting our knowledge of God, it is somewhat difficult 
 to get a clear account. In a sense, as we have seen, all our 
 knowledge is knowledge of God, that is to say, all our knowledge 
 is a particular determination of our knowledge of the Infinite, 
 just as all our love is a particular determination of the general 
 tendency towards the Good, or of the infinite love wherewith 
 God loves Himself. On the other hand, our knowledge of ideas, 
 immutable and eternal though they be, is not equivalent to a 
 knowledge of the divine substance in itself. For, although the 
 ideas constitute the divine reason, yet they do so merely in so far 
 as it is representative of created things, merely in so far as it is 
 capable of being participated in, or imitated, by them. In know- 
 ing, the intelligible perfections are communicated to us, but 
 though we see them, we do not see God as He is in His 
 absolute and individual reality. We see Him merely in so. 
 far as His perfections are representative of finite things and 
 under the conditions attendant on finitude. 
 
 It follows from the nature of the Infinite Being that there 
 can be no idea representative of Him. God, or the Infinite, 
 can have no archetype; He is Himself His own archetype. 
 All things are seen in and through the Infinite, but the Infinite 
 can be seen only in itself. Essence and existence cannot here 
 be separated. The idea of being has no meaning without being ; 
 and, accordingly, the thought of the Infinite involves God’s 
 existence, for since nothing finite can represent the Infinite, 
 we can only think of Him in Himself. It follows from what 
 has been said that when it is asserted that we see God in Himself, | 
 the meaning is that we do so without the intervention of a 
 
 1 Médiiations Métaphysiques, p. 68. 
 
 3 
 
34 MALEBRANCHE’S THEORY OF KNOWLEDGE 
 
 representative idea, but not that we really attain to His 
 simplicity or discover His perfections as they are in themselves. 
 
 F. Some Critical Considerations. 
 
 This account of the nature of knowledge may be scrutinised 
 from two points of view. In the first place, we may ask whether, 
 granting its pre-suppositions and within its own limits, the 
 theory offers a consistent account of the way in which we arrive 
 at our knowledge of the world of experience. In the second 
 place, we may inquire into the validity of the assumptions or 
 presuppositions upon which it is based. 
 
 (a) The first question that arises is as to what precisely is 
 meant by the potential inclusion of all figures in intelligible exten- 
 sion. Itisclear that figures are not actually contained in extension, 
 as extension is contained in the mind of God, for, according to 
 Malebranche, figures are only conceivable by means of movement, 
 and God sees no movement in His essence. If, then, God is to see 
 a certain figure of intelligible extension in order to apply it to 
 our minds, He must limit intelligible extension, which in itself 
 is figureless, in a certain way, but to do this He must have an 
 idea of the figure which He wills to make. The general idea 
 of intelligible extension helps us, therefore, here but little. 
 
 The difficulties are enhanced in the case of our knowledge 
 of particular objects, Such knowledge involves, as we have 
 seen, (1) an idea of extension, limited in a definite way, and 
 (2) a complex of sensations caused in us by God. Now, in the 
 first place it may be asked, how God, who has no sensations 
 in Himself, is able to call up sensations in my mind at all. 
 Malebranche tells us that although God does not feel sensations 
 yet He knows them, because He contains within Himself the 
 archetypes of all minds, and can, therefore, see the modifications 
 of which they are capable. But, since knowledge always implies 
 immediate presence, and God can only know that which is 
 ‘‘ within Himself,” it is hard to discern how from the idea of the 
 soul in which there is no pain or any other sensations, God 
 can deduce the modifications of which such soul is capable. 
 Malebranche is himself aware of this difficulty, and in the end 
 he is compelled to take refuge in an asylum of ignorance. 
 “My consciousness,” he says, ‘‘ teaches me as well as other 
 
SOME CRITICAL CONSIDERATIONS 35 
 
 men that I suffer pain, and my reason tells me that God and 
 God alone can cause me to suffer. But since neither I nor 
 anyone else has a clear idea of the soul or of the archetype in 
 accordance with which God created it, I cannot throw any light 
 on this difficulty.” ! 
 
 In the second place, the sensations, being subjective, particular, 
 not involved in the essence of the thing of which we are aware, 
 ought prima facie to occur quite irregularly and contingently. 
 How is it, then, that complexes of sensations always come 
 together in my mind, in a fairly uniform manner, and not only 
 in my mind, but also in other minds than mine? The answer 
 is that God acts in accordance with certain necessary and 
 universal laws,—in this connection in accordance with the laws 
 of the communication of movement and of the conjunction of 
 soul and body. Now, as we have seen, intelligible extension 
 is similar throughout. What, then, determines God to call up 
 in our minds, now one complex of sensations, and now another, 
 must be the occasions, as Malebranche calls them, which regu- 
 late the exercise of the invariable laws, such occasions being in 
 this case nothing but the presence of objects. 
 
 Accordingly, there must be objects differing in character that 
 determine God to act in different ways on different occasions in 
 accordance with universal laws. But if this be so, the existence of 
 objects becomes a metaphysical necessity, since without them no 
 explanation could be given of the order and regularity of experi- 
 ence—a necessity which, as is well known, Malebranche refused 
 to recognise. Further, the whole difficulty involved in our 
 knowledge of the particular is not overcome, but only removed 
 a stage further back. For if the order of our sensations be 
 determined by objects as occasional causes, then God must know 
 these objects, and must know them, not merely in their general 
 character as extended, but as individual and particular. The 
 knowledge of the particular is, therefore, still unexplained, at 
 least so far as God is concerned, or at any rate is presupposed 
 in the explanation of it that Malebranche offers. Arnauld’s 
 story of the sculptor applies here. When the sculptor was 
 requested by a friend for a picture or likeness of St. Augustine, 
 he brought him a slab of marble and told him that he needed 
 only to remove the superfluous matter to discover the likeness 
 he wanted, forgetting that, in order to do this, it was necessary 
 
 t Réflexions sur la Prémotion physique, IX, 
 
86 MALEBRANCHE’S THEORY OF KNOWLEDGE 
 
 to know first of all what St. Augustine looked like. Arnauld 
 pressed this difficulty with reference to the individual knower. 
 In what way, he asked, can we know how to limit intelligible 
 extension and clothe it with certain sensations so as to represent 
 a certain object, unless we already have an idea of the object 
 we want to know? Malebranche might conceivably have 
 replied that it is not the individual who limits extension, and 
 at the same time calls up sensations, but God or the Infinite 
 who possesses ideas of all things, and also knows the modifications 
 of which our soul is capable. But such a reply would have been 
 unavailing against the difficulty urged above, for we have seen 
 that in order to account for the regularity of our sensations, it is 
 necessary that the universal laws in accordance with which God 
 acts should be determined by occasional causes, that is to say, 
 by the presence of objects of determinate character, which God 
 must know in order to be able to act upon our minds in regular 
 and orderly manner. Yet God can only know that which is 
 within Himself, only His own ideas; and no ingenuity will 
 render explicable, how out of these ideas—universal in character 
 as they are—either the Infinite mind or our minds can arrive 
 at a knowledge of the particular objects of our experience. 
 Clearly, then, Malebranche did not succeed in effecting the 
 synthesis between the Augustinian or neo-Platonic doctrine of 
 Ideas and the teaching of Descartes, which he desired in order 
 to reach a comprehensive theory of a vision of all things in 
 God. Our knowledge of the particular is so far from being 
 explained that the question is forced repeatedly upon Male- 
 branche whether the material world exists at all. God, His 
 ideas, and the relations between them constitute the intelligible 
 world; the soul and its modifications account for the sensible 
 world. What need, therefore, is there for an external world 
 to which no intelligible meaning can be assigned, a material 
 extension which it is difficult to define, and which can hardly 
 be distinguished from the intelligible extension, which alone 
 is real? In dealing with this question, Malebranche reasserts 
 the arguments used by Descartes in the same connection, e.g. the | 
 delusive character of the senses, etc. Malebranche, however, is 
 not, and cannot be, satisfied with Descartes’ solution. According 
 to the latter, my passive faculty of perception, i.e. of receiving 
 ideas of sensible things, involved the existence of a corresponding 
 t Médiiations, VI. 
 
SOME CRITICAL CONSIDERATIONS 37 
 
 active faculty of forming or producing these ideas, and such 
 active faculty could not exist in me, seeing that ideas are produced 
 in my mind without my contributing to their production, and 
 often against my will. It must, therefore, Descartes argued, 
 exist in a substance other than myself, which must be either 
 a corporeal entity or God. But seeing that we have a strong 
 persuasion that ideas arise from corporeal objects, and seeing 
 that God has not given us any faculty whereby we can discover 
 that such is not the case, it is clear that God would be a deceiver, 
 if our natural inclinations did not lead us to the truth. This 
 argument cannot, however, satisfy Malebranche, for, in the first 
 place, he will not allow that corporeal things have an active power 
 of exciting ideas in our minds, seeing that the only active power 
 lies in God; and, in the second place, the argument based on 
 the fact that God is no deceiver does not amount to a clear 
 proof. We must not believe anything beyond what we are 
 compelled to believe. Thus, when we see corporeal things we 
 must conclude only that we see them, and that these visible or 
 intelligible things really exist. Yet what reason have we for 
 saying positively that there exists outside of us a material world 
 resembling the intelligible world which we see? It is true that 
 we see corporeal things as external to us. Still, do we not see 
 the light outside us, and in the sun, and is it not, nevertheless, 
 clear that light is a modification of our soul and does not exist 
 in the external object at all? Our natural inclination is not 
 _ evidence. Indeed, as Malebranche frequently points out, no 
 clear and incontrovertible proof can be given of the existence 
 of corporeal things. On the contrary, a demonstration may 
 be given of the impossibility of such a proof, apart from what 
 is offered us by faith. For a clear proof consists in the establish- 
 ment of a necessary connection between the ideas which are 
 being compared; and there is no such necessary connection 
 between the infinitely perfect being and any created entity. 
 God is abundantly sufficient unto Himself. ‘‘ Matter, therefore, 
 is not a necessary emanation from the Divinity.” 
 
 If corporeal things do exist, they must depend upon the 
 volition of God ; but whereas all God’s volitions are dependent 
 upon the immutable order of His perfections, and are, so to 
 speak, the expressions of the relations subsisting necessarily 
 between the divine ideas, the particular volition to create the 
 world is not a necessary consequence of the divine nature, for 
 
388 MALEBRANCHE’S THEORY OF KNOWLEDGE 
 
 the notion of the infinitely perfect being involves, according to 
 Malebranche, no necessary relation to a created world, and indeed 
 excludes the possibility of such a relation. The existence of 
 corporeal things is, therefore, arbitrary, and cannot be rigorously 
 deduced from the nature of God. To save the existence of 
 the material world Malebranche is compelled to have recourse 
 to faith. There is no other way than revelation to assure us 
 that God has willed to create corporeal things. ‘“‘ To be fully 
 convinced of the existence of corporeal things it is necessary not 
 only to prove that there is a God, and that He is no deceiver, 
 but also that He has assured us that He really did create them, 
 and of this I find no proof in the writing of Descartes.”! Proof 
 of this latter point can be found only in the Bible and the doctrines 
 of the Church.? 
 
 It would, I think, be a mistake to suppose that Malebranche’s 
 belief in the existence of matter was philosophically insincere, - 
 or that when he speaks of creation he does so only to avoid 
 conflict with the religious opinions of the time. Such was 
 apparently the opinion of Novaro; but, as Pillon3 points out, 
 Malebranche did not divorce reason from faith, but considered 
 them to be closely connected, and spoke quite seriously of a 
 union of two substances in man. And, as we shall see later, 
 it was, in Malebranche’s opinion, the doctrine of creation which 
 saved him from the pantheism of Spinoza. 
 
 Nevertheless, it is clear that the existence of a material world 
 becomes exceedingly problematic, and Berkeley, 4 referring to the 
 followers of Malebranche, was justified in asserting ‘“‘ that they 
 should suppose an innumerable multitude of created beings 
 which they acknowledge are not capable of producing any effect 
 in nature, and which, therefore, are made to no manner of 
 purpose, since God might have done everything as well without 
 them ; this, though we should allow it possible, must yet be 
 a very unaccountable and extravagant supposition.”’ Similar - 
 objections were urged by Locke, Bayle, Arnauld, and De Mairan, 
 all of whom pointed out that the material world could have no 
 real place in Malebranche’s system, and, in addition, it ought 
 to be noted that, though Malebranche does retain that world, 
 he yet deprives it of all real power and of any sort of independent 
 being. 
 
 1 Fel., VI. * Entretiens, VI. 8. 
 3 L’Année philosophique, 1893. 4 Principles, § LIII. 
 
SOME CRITICAL CONSIDERATIONS 39 
 
 (b) So far I have dealt with Malebranche’s theory of knowledge 
 from the point of view of his own system. It is necessary now 
 to examine its presuppositions and assumptions. In this con- 
 nection, it will be well to consider the main arguments urged 
 against Malebranche’s doctrine by Arnauld, in his book Des vrates 
 et des fausses 1dées, and other writings. Arnauld detects most 
 of the vulnerable points of the doctrine of representative percep- 
 tion, and furnishes a foundation for a thoroughgoing realistic 
 theory of knowledge. 
 
 The main burden of Arnauld’s criticism consists in the 
 contention that the doctrine of representative ideas is based 
 upon an assumption which is never submitted to examination, 
 the assumption, namely, that direct knowledge of real things is 
 impossible, and that therefore, a ¢ertium quid, a representative idea, 
 is needed to mediate between the mind and the objects known. 
 Having assumed the need of “‘étres représentatifs,’’ Malebranche, 
 he points out, proceeds to inquire where they are to be placed, 
 and by a method of exclusion or elimination concludes that they 
 can be possessed by God alone. But the assumed impossibility 
 of direct perception, Arnauld maintains, is really based upon a 
 number of naive prejudices, none of which can stand the light 
 of critical scrutiny. 
 
 In the first place, it is taken for granted that the mind can 
 only know ideas, can only know that which is like itself spiritual 
 in character. This belief rests, however, on the unproved 
 assumption that like can only know like. But what reason is 
 there for thus restricting the realm of the knowable? Prima 
 facie only non-being is incapable of being known, and to be know- 
 able is a property inseparable from all that. has being. It is, 
 therefore, a mere prejudice to insist that the soul can only know 
 ideas. 
 
 In the second place, it is supposed that corporeal things 
 cannot be known directly, because what is known must act 
 upon the mind, and corporeal things are incapable of such action. 
 But this again is based upon the implicit assumption that nothing 
 can be known by the mind except that which can act upon it. 
 How do we know that this is the case? To be known does 
 not on the face of it involve an active operation at all. 
 
 In the third place, it is assumed that the mind is passive, 
 
 1 Cf. Guvres philosophiques de Antoine Arnauld, 1843, ed. Jules Simon. 
 This volume contains also Malebranche’s Réponses. 
 
40 MALEBRANCHE’S THEORY OF KNOWLEDGE 
 
 and can, therefore, have no knowledge on its own account. 
 Such a contention is, however, inconsistent with Malebranche’s 
 own teaching. For will and understanding are not on his own 
 showing separate entities, but manifestations or expressions 
 of the soul; and, accordingly, the admission that the mind is 
 active in volition involves the admission that the mind as such 
 is active. Moreover, when it is said that the mind is active, the 
 “Meaning is that it has the capacity of knowing or thinking, 
 and it is really quite as unreasonable to ask how the mind can 
 think as it is to ask why extension is divisible, since the capacity 
 of thinking and divisibility constitute the formal cause or nature, 
 respectively, of mind and extension. 
 
 In the fourth place, it is argued that what is known must 
 be present to the mind or intimately united with it, and, since 
 corporeal things cannot be so present to the mind, they cannot 
 be directly known. This is based on an assumption that know- 
 ledge involves or consists in a kind of mystic union of the 
 knower with the known. The word “ presence ”’ is, however, 
 woefully ambiguous. The content of an act of knowledge is no 
 doubt present or contained in that act. But such “ objective 
 presence ’’ must not be interpreted after the manner of local 
 presence or inclusion, on the analogy of an image or picture. 
 For the relationship expressed in the term “‘ objective presence,”’ 
 i.e. presence as a content known, is a relationship peculiar to the 
 mind,—that indeed which constitutes its very essence,—and it 
 cannot be expected that we should find analogous relations 
 outside the mind. The word “ presence ’”’ is really misleading, 
 and properly understood, the principle that to be known an 
 object must be present to the mind is a bare tautology, amounting 
 merely to the assertion that in order to know a thing it is 
 necessary that the thing should be known. 
 
 Arnauld is, in fact, prepared to give an analysis of the nature 
 of apprehension (perception, as he calls it), which will obviate 
 the need of assuming “‘étres représentatifs.’’ Every idea, he urges, 
 though in itself a unitary whole, has yet two relations. In the 
 first place, it is related to the soul which it modifies, i.e. it in- 
 volves an act or process of the mind; in the second place, it is 
 related to the thing known, in so far as it is ‘‘ objectively,’ i.e. as 
 a content of the mind, present to the mind. Apprehension is always 
 the apprehension of a content. The act of apprehending includes 
 or contains the content apprehended. But these two relations do 
 
SOME CRITICAL CONSIDERATIONS 41 
 
 not entitle us to speak of two different entities. We are not, 
 in other words, entitled to hypostatise the idea in so far as it 
 indicates the objective presence of an object to the mind, and 
 regard it as something which has an existence, prior to all 
 perception, and which must act upon the mind, in order to be 
 perceived by it. In an act of knowing there is only one thing 
 to which existence ought to be ascribed, the modification, 
 namely, of the soul, the process or event of knowing; but though 
 this modification is the perception of something which is known, 
 we are not concerned here with an additional entity, forming 
 part of the sum of existence. The idea of the sun is the sun in 
 so far as it is known, secundum esse quod habet in cognoscente ; 
 it is a way of knowing the sun, it is the sun in so far as it is in 
 my mind, not formally as it is in the sky, but objectively, ie. 
 as a content of an act of knowledge. But it is absurd to interpret 
 this notion of an “intelligible ’’ sun, or an idea of the sun, as 
 being a real existing object, standing between the mind and 
 the real external sun, and rendering a knowledge of the latter 
 for ever impossible. 
 
 It follows that the act of apprehending and the content or 
 idea apprehended, though distinguishable, are not separable, but . 
 are rather aspects of one and the same concrete fact. As against 
 ‘this position, Malebranche had argued, that while ideas are 
 universal in content, eternal and immutable, the acts of the 
 individual finite mind are temporal and changing, and from 
 _ this disparity between the ideas and the acts of knowledge he 
 concluded that they must be separate entities, the former existing 
 in the mind of God, the latter being modifications of the finite 
 subject. But, Arnauld urges, if it be recognised that ideas are 
 not separate existents, in some mysterious manner fused with 
 the mind, but that they are rather parts of a system of truth, 
 ways in which we arrive at a knowledge of reality, there is no 
 reason why an act which is individual should not be capable of 
 apprehending that which is not individual. Malebranche’s diffi- 
 culty is due, in other words, to his hypostatisation of ideas and to 
 a false interpretation of the nature of ‘ objective ’’ presence. In 
 another connection,! Arnauld points out that the universality and 
 eternity of truths does not warrant us in hypostatising these 
 truths and in regarding them as “ étres subsistants.’’ ‘‘ When 
 we say a thing is always and everywhere, we may mean two 
 
 t Régles du bon sens, Giuvres, Tome XL, 
 
 2? 
 
42 MALEBRANCHE’S THEORY OF KNOWLEDGE 
 
 things. We may mean that it has positive existence in all 
 places and throughout all times, and in this sense God only 
 can be said to be everywhere. On the other hand, we may mean 
 that it is not attached to any place or time, and in this sense, 
 every universal is always and everywhere. It is in this sense that 
 the truth 2 +3 =5 is ubique et semper, and from this it does 
 not follow that it is in God.’’ So with eternity. In one sense, 
 the term is applicable to a being that has existence always, 
 without beginning or end, and none but God can be eternal in 
 this sense. On the other hand, “‘ many things are called eternal 
 which are only in our mind, which are not existing beings, for 
 the simple reason that they are not attached to any time. 
 General terms, such as man in general, or a circle in general, 
 etc., are eternal in this sense.’” Arnauld might have added that 
 this is no less true of a content which is particular than of one 
 which is universal. In neither case is the idea a separate exist- 
 ence; in both cases the act or process of knowing is concrete 
 and particular, but this circumstance does not preclude it from 
 apprehending that which is of different nature from itself. 
 
 To Malebranche, however, the credit is due of deepening 
 the distinction between essence and existence and of laying stress 
 on the universality and necessity of truth and its independence 
 of the arbitrary will of God. He recognised that the essences 
 of things are not to be identified with their existence. At the 
 same time, this negative determination was insensibly trans- 
 muted by him into a mysterious and baffling positive. He tended 
 to hypostatise the essences and to make them into veritable 
 existences, forgetful of the fact that when this is done, they 
 can, in the first place, no longer serve the purpose of accounting 
 for the universality of knowledge, since as existences they cannot 
 but be particulars; and, in the second place, that they stand 
 between the mind and the world of particular, concrete fact, 
 and render a knowledge of the latter for ever impossible. In 
 other words, if the essences or ideas be regarded as having a 
 transcendent existence, they are open to the charge which 
 Aristotle brought against Plato’s Ideas, that they afford no 
 explanation, on the one hand, of the possibility and nature of 
 knowledge, or, on the other hand, of the existence of a world of 
 particulars. : 
 
Part III 
 MALEBRANCHE’S METAPHYSIC 
 
 A. The Nature and Attributes of God. 
 
 Underlying Malebranche’s theory of knowledge, and indeed 
 the whole of his philosophy, is the thought, that not only do 
 we see all things in God, but that in a sense all things are in 
 God. He himself describes his philosophy as a commentary 
 on St. Paul’s text, “‘in Him we live, and move, and have our 
 being.”’ 
 
 God is described by him often in terminology which would 
 identify the divine nature with mere indeterminate being, e.g. 
 the being of beings (étre des étres), the universal being. At other 
 times, God is described as ens realissimum, containing within 
 Himself all that is real in finite things, actual and possible, 
 though not exhausted in them, and not partaking in their 
 limitations. Using Platonic language, he speaks of finite 
 things as made up of being and non-being, while in the infinitely 
 perfect being there is no non-being. God possesses whatever 
 there is of positive reality in all things, without their limita- 
 tions. The divine being is, at the same time, one and many, 
 comprising an infinity of different perfections, each con- 
 taining all the others without any real distinction, and all 
 constituting a perfect unity. 
 
 Malebranche conceived the existence of God as an imme- 
 diate certainty. While Descartes had proved the existence of 
 God by a process of inference from the idea of God, as from 
 effect to cause, or from essence to existence, in the sense that 
 existence being a perfection, it is involved in the idea of that 
 which is the most perfect, Malebranche urged that no process, 
 of inference is here required, that to think of God is sufficient 
 
 to prove God’s existence. For although we know all things 
 43 
 
44 MALEBRANCHE’S METAPHYSIC 
 
 in and through ideas or representative beings, we cannot know 
 ' God in the same way. There is no idea of God, no archetype 
 which can be representative of Him. Being and the idea of 
 being, existence and essence, are here identical. There can 
 be no “ étre représentatif ’’ of God other than God Himself. 
 
 God, or the Infinite, containing within Himself the perfec- 
 tions of all things, and yet remaining a simple and individual 
 essence, is incomprehensible to the human mind. Neverthe- 
 less, we may, by reference to the idea of an infinitely perfect 
 being, discover some of His attributes. In the first place, we 
 may inquire whether God can be described as res cogitans. 
 God, as has been already indicated, contains within Himself the 
 orders of truth and righteousness, and has, therefore, knowledge 
 and volition. What precisely the nature of these processes 
 may be we cannot tell, even in the case of finite minds, since 
 there is no idea of the soul. But it is clear that there are im- 
 portant differences between our modes of knowing and those 
 of God. Thought for us involves, at any rate, the distinction 
 between the act or process of thinking and the content, or idea, 
 as Malebranche calls it, of which by means of the former we 
 become aware. Now, this idea is in the mind of God, while 
 the act or perception is peculiar to each individual. Is there, 
 then, a similar duality in the case of God? It would appear 
 that in God the ideas are in some incomprehensible manner 
 fused and united in His single essence, allowing of no distinction, 
 and in that case self-consciousness is not applicable to God’s 
 essence. If, on the other hand, emphasis be laid upon that 
 aspect of Malebranche’s teaching in which he makes use of the 
 conception of a hierarchy of ideas, constituting the two orders 
 of truth and righteousness, it becomes still more obvious that God 
 is not a self-conscious personality, but a system of Ideas, such 
 as we find in the philosophy of Plato. 
 
 With regard to the will, similar difficulties arise. Male- 
 branche realises that the Divine volition cannot consist in a deter- 
 mination by anything outside of God, and he urges that it is 
 rather the invincible love which God has for His own substance, 
 the satisfaction and beatitude which He finds in His own per- 
 fection. Now, will, as we are familiar with it, in our own 
 experience, involves always the presence of ideas, together 
 with the recognition of a reality with which those ideas stand 
 in contrast ; we have, as Mr. Bradley puts it, an existing not- 
 
THE NATURE AND ATTRIBUTES OF GOD 45 
 
 self, together with the idea of its change. But anything of 
 this kind is utterly precluded in the case of God, as conceived 
 by Malebranche. Again, God is eternal, immutable, and the. 
 acts of God’s volition are likewise eternal and immutable. Yet 
 acts which do not involve any change are simply not acts, as’ 
 we know them. It seems clear that, of God, as conceived by 
 Malebranche, we may say, as Spinoza said of Substance, that 
 “the intellect which would constitute the essence of God must 
 differ toto celo from our will and intellect, nor can they agree 
 in anything save in name, nor any more than the Dog as a 
 celestial constellation and the dog as a barking animal agree.”’ 1 
 
 In the second place, it may be asked whether God can be 
 described as res extensa. God is said by Malebranche to possess 
 the attribute of immensity. Thereby the omnipresence of 
 God is indicated, His power of being one and many, of pene- 
 trating all things and conferring upon them being, His posses- 
 sion of all perfections in indissoluble, distinctionless unity. . 
 And Malebranche tries to throw some light on this incomprehen- 
 sible attribute by comparing it with eternity. God is eternal, 
 and, although times and moments succeed one another in His 
 eternity, He is all that He is, without temporal succession. So 
 God is immense, and though corporeal things are extended in 
 His immensity, He Himself is not extended. He fills all His 
 substance without local extension. In His existence and dura- 
 tion there is no past and no future; in His immensity there 
 are no parts and no divisions. God is all that He is whenever 
 and wherever He is. He is not so much in the world as the 
 world is in Him, just as eternity is not so much in time as time 
 is in eternity. Malebranche insists that by the omnipresence 
 of God he does not mean merely that God exercises activity 
 everywhere; the analogy of the presence of the soul in the 
 body does not seem to him appropriate. In truth, the soul 
 is not in the body, nor the body in the soul. Both alike are 
 in the divine substance, minds in the divine reason and bodies 
 in the divine immensity. 
 
 The divine immensity is not to be identified with intelli- 
 gible extension. The former, indicating as it does the mystic 
 presence in God of all perfections in indissoluble unity, is quite 
 incomprehensible to the finite mind. The latter, on the other 
 hand, is essentially, as its name indicates, intelligible. It is 
 
 t Ethics, Pt. I, prop. 17. Scholium. 
 
46 MALEBRANCHE’S METAPHYSIC 
 
 the idea of matter, that in God which is representative of cor- 
 poreal things, the ground of all mathematical relations, the 
 archetype or model, in accordance with which God created 
 the material world. Intelligible extension is thus distinguished, 
 firstly, from the divine immensity, and, secondly, from local, 
 material, or created extension. In his discussion with Arnauld 
 and De Mairan, Malebranche was driven to elaborate these dis- 
 tinctions in order to free himself from the charge of Spinozism 
 which these critics brought against him. Arnauld urged that 
 it follows from Malebranche’s teaching that God is extended, 
 or that He contains extension within Himself, ‘ formally ” 
 and not merely ‘“‘ eminently.”” Malebranche himself had argued 
 that the idea of extension could not be in the finite soul, on 
 the ground that this would make the soul material. Yet, 
 “‘ objectively,’’ or as a content of mind, the idea of extension 
 might well be in the finite mind, without the latter thereby 
 becoming extended or material. It followed, therefore, that by 
 presence in the mind, Malebranche, when he argued in the way 
 indicated, must have meant formal or actual presence, but in 
 that case to say that God contains intelligible extension in 
 His mind, amounts to saying that God is extended. Male- 
 branche replied that extension exists in God, not merely in 
 ideal fashion, but effectively (effectivement), yet he will not have 
 it that it exists in God formally. It is clear, however, that 
 he is here quite uncertain of his ground, and ultimately he takes 
 refuge in the unknowableness of God. God, he says, contains 
 the idea of matter “eminently,” but this idea is not a modi- 
 fication of God, for God can have no modifications. Again, 
 the idea or essence of matter is not identical with the existence 
 of material things. It is, indeed, characteristic of God’s infini- 
 tude that He contains within Himself all that is real in finite 
 things, but finite things are not modes of His being, but rather 
 imperfect imitations of their essences in His mind. 
 
 The subject is further dealt with in the ninth Méditation, 
 the Enitretien d’un Philosophe avec un Philosophe chinots, and 
 above all in the correspondence with De Mairan.t Is not, De 
 Mairan asked, local or material or created extension the model 
 or “‘affection’’ of a substance, a substance which in itself 
 
 1 Cf. Méditations Métaphysiques et Correspondance de N. Malebvanche avec 
 
 J. J. Dortous de Maivan, sur des sujets métaphysiques. Ed. by Feuillet de 
 Conches, 1841. 
 
THE NATURE AND ATTRIBUTES OF GOD 47 
 
 is not locally extended but which admits of modifications, 
 in the form of locally extended bodies, and is not intelligible 
 extension, the substance of which they are modifications ? 
 Admittedly the idea of extension is infinite, eternal, necessary; 
 but since we can assert of anything that which is clearly involved 
 in the idea of it, it follows that extension is identical with God, 
 for otherwise there would be an infinite substance, which yet 
 is not God. Moreover, this infinite substance must be the 
 essence of corporeal things, unless it can be shown that the 
 extension which is involved in our conception of corporeal 
 things is an extension other than that which is called by Male- 
 branche intelligible. If you deny that we-can infer the nature 
 of a thing from the idea which is representative of it, then it 
 would no longer follow that God Himself is infinite. On the 
 other hand, if, per impossibile, it is maintained that intelligible 
 extension is merely an idea of God, an idea without an ideatum, 
 then of what avail is it to argue about the existence of cor- 
 poreal things? Is it not clear that there can in such case be 
 no corporeal things, and that the revelation of which Male- 
 branche speaks is deceptive in their regard ? 
 
 Malebranche’s answer is a troubled and evasive one. 
 Spinoza’s mistake lay, according to him, in confusing the ideas 
 of things with the things themselves. No doubt the idea of 
 extension, i.e. intelligible extension, is eternal, necessary, infinite, 
 and, therefore, in God, is in fact God, for all that is in God is 
 consubstantial with Him; but created extension is neither 
 eternal nor infinite, and so far from its possessing necessary 
 existence, we only know that it exists by means of revelation, 
 natural or supernatural. From the idea of extension the 
 transition cannot be made to the existence of an infinite exten- 
 sion. Only the properties of a thing can be deduced from its 
 idea, not its existence; for the existence is not a part of its 
 essence, but is dependent upon the will of God. The created 
 world is not a modification of God, for the Infinite can have 
 no modifications. Not only so. Particular bodies are not 
 modifications of the idea of extension, but are parts of created 
 extension. The ‘“‘ modes” of extension are its figures, yet it is 
 meaningless to speak of Rome and Paris as modifications of 
 extension. Spinoza is making an incorrect use of the conception 
 of ‘‘ mode,” and his identification of intelligible with created 
 extension is due to his unwarranted rejection of the notion of 
 
48 MALEBRANCHE’S METAPHYSIC 
 
 creation. Malebranche here ignores the proofs furnished by 
 Spinoza of the impossibility of creation consistently with the 
 definition of Substance. And he himself often speaks of finite 
 things as participations in the divine substance. It is difficult 
 to see what advantage this word has over the term ‘‘ mode ”’ or 
 ‘“‘ modification.” Participations are, no doubt, distinguished by 
 him from parts, but then Spinoza would never have said that 
 Substance had parts, and indeed he showed clearly that it could 
 have none. All that Malebranche says with regard to the 
 divine immensity applies equally well to Spinoza’s notion of 
 Substance. The former term is, in fact, used by Spinoza in 
 the Cogitata Metaphysica. The comparison of immensity with 
 eternity and the denial of temporal succession and local extended- 
 ness to God find a close parallel in the distinction that Spinoza 
 makes between duration and eternity and his description of 
 quantity, number, etc., as mere aids to the imagination and 
 as not belonging to Substance sub specie eternitatis.t Once 
 more, Malebranche argues, as we have seen, that from the idea 
 of infinite extension, we cannot infer that the extension of which 
 the world is made is infinite, despite the Cartesian principle 
 that what we can assert of anything whatever is involved in the 
 idea representative of it. But, if from an idea admittedly infi- 
 nite we cannot infer necessary existence, then doubt might 
 be thrown on the existence and infinitude of God, and even 
 if a plausible case could be made out for regarding the idea 
 of God as an exception in this respect, it would still follow that 
 if material extension exists, it must be infinite, since infinity 
 is involved in the idea which is representative of it. But, as 
 we have seen, Malebranche admits, although on the evidence 
 of faith, the existence of the material world, and if the material 
 world exists there must exist an infinite substance outside of 
 God, which on Malebranche’s premises should be impossible. 
 It is true he denied the infinity of the material world, but it 
 is hard to see how the denial can be justified. It would seem, 
 then, that Malebranche does not succeed in refuting the argu- 
 ment of de Mairan, that, logically developed, the theory of 
 intelligible extension leads to the doctrine of Spinoza. Male- 
 branche himself appears to have been aware of the weakness of 
 his position, for the later letters are full of evasions, and in the 
 end he frankly appeals to faith: ‘‘ Le vraie fidéle n’écoute 
 t Ethics, I. prop. 15. Scholium, and Letiey to Myer. 
 
THE NATURE AND ATTRIBUTES OF GOD 49 
 
 pas seulement ceux qui attaquent la foi, de peur d’étre 
 embarassé par des objections qu'il ne pourroit pas resoudre; car 
 perdre la foi, c’est tout perdre, et la foi ne vient que par la 
 revelation et non de la speculation des idées claires, des mathe- 
 matiques et des nombres.’’! The vital point of Malebranche’s 
 answer consists, however, in his insistence upon the fact of 
 creation. Yet, in dealing with this notion, he simply takes 
 refuge in the unknowableness and omnipotence of God. Seeing 
 the idea of extension within himself, God can create something 
 that corresponds to it. How the will of God has such power 
 we cannot say, since we have no clear idea of what constitutes 
 the divine power and will. Thus the whole world of particular 
 fact is left unexplained. It is, moreover, difficult to see why 
 the volition to create the world should be arbitrary, while all 
 other volitions of God are determined by the immutable order 
 of His perfections; and this question seems to be all the more 
 troublesome, because Malebranche was in the end compelled 
 to suggest means—though theological in character—whereby | 
 the created world has been made worthy of the divine will, 
 so that the inquiry is forced upon us whether, this being so, 
 the creation of the world must not be regarded as following 
 necessarily from the divine nature. 
 
 To return now to the further enumeration of God’s attri- 
 butes. Since God is infinitely perfect and contains all reality 
 ‘within Himself, He is independent and cannot be determined 
 by anything outside Himself. It follows that He is also 
 unchangeable. In the thoughts and volitions of God there is 
 no succession ; He knows all and wills all by an eternal, immu- 
 table act. The whole world-process is due to general laws 
 established by God from all eternity. The changes observable 
 in the universe are due not to changes in these laws, but to the 
 action of “‘occasional’’ causes. The difficulty of this position 
 will be dealt with later. Meanwhile, it is to be observed that, 
 in Malebranche’s view, the immutability of God does not con- 
 flict with His freedom. The volitions of God are determined 
 by the immutable order of His perfections, yet this means that 
 God is determined not by outward circumstances but by. the 
 excellence of His own nature. Malebranche rejects the “‘ liberty 
 of indifference ’’ that was ascribed to God by Descartes. ‘Ce 
 
 1 Méditations Métaphysiques et Correspondance de N. Malebranche avec 
 J. J. Dovious de Maivan, 1841, p. 147. 
 
 4 
 
50 MALEBRANCHE’S METAPHYSIC 
 
 faux principe que Dieu n’a pas d’autre régle en ses desseins 
 que sa pure volonté, répand des ténébres si épaisses qu’il con- 
 fond le bien avec le mal, le vrai avec le faux, et fait de toutes 
 choses un chaos ot l’esprit ne connait plus rien.’”?! God cannot 
 will that what is false shall be true, nor can He act in a way 
 which does not conform with the immutable order of His per- 
 fections—a contention which has, as already noted, important 
 bearing upon Malebranche’s view of knowledge. 
 
 B. God’s Relation to the World. 
 
 Having dealt with the attributes of God, as He is in Him- 
 self, at any rate in so far as the human mind can reach that 
 which is in essence incomprehensible, Malebranche further tries 
 to deal with God in His “‘ ways,’”’ and to show how God goes, 
 so to speak, outside Himself. Here he is profoundly anxious 
 lest he should be involved in the meshes of the “‘ wretched ”’ 
 (le misérable) Spinoza. ‘‘ We are,’’ so Aristes represents Spinoza 
 as Maintaining, ‘‘but we are not made. Weare a necessary emana- 
 tion from the divine being. We form a part of the divine being. 
 The infinitely perfect being is the universe, is the assemblage of 
 all that is.’’ It was to escape from this danger that Malebranche 
 was so strenuous in emphasising the notion of creation. He 
 tries to prove that the universe is not uncreated. Some- 
 times he argues that matter cannot be a necessary emanation 
 from the divinity, because God is fully self-sufficient—an argu- 
 ment which is certainly far from convincing, since, if matter 
 is in some way involved in the divine nature, it would consti- 
 tute part of the abundance wherewith He is satisfied and not 
 something external to Him and requiring Him to come out of 
 Himself in order to attain satisfaction. Similar considerations 
 apply, perhaps, to the argument insisted on by Malebranche 
 in the ninth Méditation, the Entretien avec un Philosophe chinots, 
 and elsewhere. If matter were uncreated, he urges, God could not 
 move it, for He could only move it if He had knowledge of it, but 
 He can only know it if He Himself gave it being, seeing that 
 nothing can act upon Him, or illumine Him from the outside. 
 Movement and creation, in fact, alike depend upon God and 
 involve an activity of the same kind. Movement means suc- 
 cessive creation, on the part of God, of a corporeal thing in 
 different places. God does not make things and then com- 
 
 : Cf. Eel. ala Recherche, VIII, X. 
 
GOD’S RELATION TO THE WORLD 51 
 
 municate to them a moving force. The moving force of bodies 
 consists in the efficacy of Him who gives them being inces- 
 santly and successively in different places. All activity, how- 
 ever small, is divine and infinite. It follows, then, that if God 
 did not create matter, He would not be able to move it, and 
 that either there would be no movement or change, or else 
 change would have no producing cause, and there would be no 
 wisdom regulating it. It would not be difficult to show that, 
 even accepting Malebranche’s doctrine of creation, it would 
 be no easy matter to reconcile change and movement with the 
 immutability which is one of God’s attributes. No doubt 
 this obstacle remains in any pantheistic doctrine. But the 
 above arguments surely have force only against the position 
 that matter is uncreated and likewise something foreign or 
 external to the divine substance, in which case, certainly, God 
 could neither know nor move it. They do not apply as against 
 the view that extension is an integral element in or, as in 
 Spinoza’s metaphysic, an Attribute of the divine Substance, 
 for in that case no action from the outside world would be 
 required to render it possible for God either to know or to move 
 matter. As regards the whole doctrine of creation, Malebranche 
 was in the end compelled, as we have seen, to take refuge in an 
 asylum of ignorance. We have no right to ask, he urges, how 
 being can come from non-being. God is omnipotent, and, having 
 the idea of extension within Himself, He can create something 
 _ that corresponds to it. Though Malebranche emphatically re- 
 pudiated all arbitrary factors when dealing with the nature of 
 truth, he is, strangely enough, content to base his explanation 
 of the entire world of particular facts upon ‘“‘ arbitrariness of 
 production ”’ on the part of God. 
 
 C. The Theory of Occasionalism. 
 
 To understand more fully the relation, as Malebranche con- 
 ceived it, between God and the created world, we must 
 deal with his doctrine of causality. In this connection, his 
 work exhibits close continuity, logical and historical, with that 
 of Descartes. The very definition which Descartes gave of 
 substance, as a thing which exists in such a way as to need 
 nothing else in order to exist, showed that there could only be 
 one substance. Descartes, indeed, pointed out that the term 
 “substance”? does not apply to God and finite things univo- 
 
52 MALEBRANCHE’S METAPHYSIC + 
 
 cally. He was, however, content to leave the problem thus 
 raised by saying that finite things exist only by the concourse 
 of God.t The dependence of finite things upon God becomes 
 apparent also in Descartes’ doctrine of continuous creation. 
 Time, according to Descartes, is discrete in nature, and its 
 parts are mutually independent, so that “‘from the fact that 
 we are now it does not necessarily follow that we shall be a 
 moment afterwards, unless some cause, namely, that which 
 produces us, shall, as it were, continuously reproduce us, i.e. 
 conserve us.’ This argument was, as we shall see, used by 
 the Cartesians in support of the doctrine of occasionalism. 
 Further, Descartes regarded matter as identical with passive 
 extension, and, therefore, as in itself inert. Movement had 
 thus to come to it from the outside. Movement, or transfer- 
 ence of a body from one vicinity to another, was distin- 
 guished from force which was the cause of such transference. 
 The general cause of all movement was God, who created matter 
 along with motion and rest, and who now by His “ concourse ”’ 
 alone preserves in the whole the same amount of motion and 
 rest that He had originally assigned to it. In addition there 
 were particular causes, “‘ by which it happens that each of the 
 parts of matter acquires the motion that it had not before.” 
 Descartes does not explain what precisely is meant by the “ con- 
 course of God’; and it is easy to see that, logically developed, 
 what he is here saying would lead to the view that God is the 
 only force,and that corporeal things are merely instruments of 
 the divine activity. 
 
 Finally, there is yet another line of consideration followed 
 by Descartes which is perhaps historically the most important 
 for the development of the doctrine of occasionalism—namely, 
 that which arises from the disparate character assigned by him 
 to mind and matter and the difficulty of their being brought 
 into connection with one another in the processes of knowing and 
 willing. That Descartes himself recognised the difficulty is evident 
 from the often quoted sentence, “‘ the human mind is not capable 
 of conceiving the difference of essence between soul and body 
 and at the same time their union, for it would then be neces- 
 sary to conceive both as a single being and at the same time 
 as two different beings, which is a contradiction.” 3 
 
 1 Principles, Pt. I, LI. a Abid. (Pt. Toa AL: 
 3 Cf. the first two letters to Elizabeth in the spring of 1643. (Zuvres, 
 Tome IX, pp. 123-35.) 
 
THE/THEORY OF OCCASIONALISM 53 
 
 The members of the Cartesian School dealt with all the 
 points to which I have been referring. Here only a_ brief 
 summary can be given of the views of the more representative 
 Cartesians of whose influence upon Malebranche there can be 
 no manner of doubt. 
 
 I note, then, firstly the views of De la Forge,! whose position 
 may be summed up thus: 
 
 I. In the sphere of extension all real efficacy and power 
 reside in God. Corporeal things are only secondary or 
 occasional causes which determine the activity of the 
 first cause, in accordance with certain laws. 
 
 2. The apparent action of the mutually disparate elements 
 of extension and thought upon each other is explained 
 by the intervention of God, who institutes a union 
 between them. It does not imply interaction but 
 merely a parallelism due to the will of God. 
 
 3. Voluntary ideas and voluntary movements are caused 
 by the soul itself. This somewhat inconsistent excep- 
 tion is made in the interests of freedom. 
 
 Even the amount of real power which is thus with hesitation 
 left to the finite subject is denied by Cordemoy.? The real 
 cause of the movement of corporeal things is God, who acts, 
 in accordance with inviolable laws. Our will is merely the 
 “occasion ’’ which determines God to turn the movements 
 initiated by Him in certain material entities in the direction 
 we desire. 
 
 Similar lines of thought were pursued, apparently inde- 
 pendently, in Holland, by Clauberg and Geulincx, but whether 
 they exercised any influence on the reflection of Malebranche 
 is uncertain. Malebranche devotes a considerable portion of 
 his writings to the subject, but in the main his arguments are 
 the same throughout. The idea of force or power in finite 
 things is unintelligible. In the case of God, force or efficacy. 
 ts conceivable, for God’s will being absolute, His volitions 
 must necessarily be followed by their effects, but there is no 
 contradiction in the action of a finite thing not being followed 
 by any effects. Real causation involves either partial or entire 
 creation out of nothing, and such creation is only possible for 
 
 s 
 
 t Tratté de l’esprit de Vhomme. 
 * Le Discernement de Vame et du covps, 1666. 
 
54 MALEBRANCHE’S METAPHYSIC 
 
 God. Regularity of succession does not prove necessity of 
 connection, nor does it warrant us.in assuming the existence 
 of forces within corporeal things, or in imagining that they can 
 of themselves determine the rate and direction of their own 
 movements. To attribute forces to corporeal things evinces 
 gross anthropomorphism and involves the ascription to them 
 of sensations like our own and of an intelligence truly mar- 
 vellous. Even in the case of our voluntary movements, we 
 must not assume a necessary connection between our volition 
 and our movement. ‘‘ Autre chose est effort, autre chose est 
 efficace.”’ 
 
 After the manner of Descartes and de la Forge, Malebranche 
 uses the conception of continuous creation. Creation and con- 
 servation are one and the same act. God is, therefore, the 
 cause of a corporeal thing’s existence at all times and at all 
 places. Since movement is the existence of a corporeal thing 
 successively in different places, it is necessary that the cause 
 which gave it being in the place in which it was at first 
 should continue to give it being in all the places which it may 
 successively occupy during transportation. The cause of local 
 movement is, accordingly, the same as that which gave it 
 being. 
 
 Similar considerations apply to the problems of body and 
 mind. If a corporeal thing is unable to move another corporeal 
 thing, still less can it move the mind. Neither has the soul 
 any power or efficacy of its own. It can neither produce ideas 
 nor initiate movements. There is no real union between the 
 soul and the body. It is with God alone that we are truly 
 united ; and just as God is responsible for all the changes in the 
 physical world, so He is the source of all the faculties of the soul. 
 Finite minds and bodies are secondary or occasional causes. 
 There is no interaction between them, but there is a correspon- 
 dence between their modifications, because God acts in accord- 
 ance with certain laws which bring about such correspondence. 
 Thus, the laws of the communication of movement explain 
 all the changes in the material world and the occasional cause 
 which determines the exercise of these laws, i.e. the distribution 
 of movement in the shock or impact of corporeal things. In 
 like manner, the laws of the conjunction of soul and body account 
 for the mutual dependence of the modifications of these two 
 substances; and, in this case, our desires are the occasional 
 
THE THEORY OF OCCASIONALISM 55 
 
 mt 
 causes of the movement of our bodies, and our attention is the 
 occasional cause of the ideas which we receive from God. 
 
 It will be apparent that Malebranche’s occasionalism is a 
 natural and legitimate development of Cartesian principles. 
 Some recent writers find, however, in Malebranche’s doctrine 
 the origin of the problem of Hume and Kant, and are of 
 opinion that Malebranche reaches what they call the modern 
 scientific view of a causal nexus, a view which refuses to enter into 
 questions of necessary relationship and confines itself to the 
 discovery of descriptive or empirical laws. Malebranche and 
 Hume, they argue, agree in regard to the following two points :— 
 
 1. That the notion of causality rests upon our experience 
 of sequence. 
 
 2. That there is no necessary connection between cause 
 and effect. 
 
 But Malebranche escapes, it is maintained, from Hume’s 
 scepticism in a manner analogous to that of Kant. He starts 
 with the notion of Being in general which is to be conceived, 
 after the analogy of a logical system, as the ground of all change. 
 Being, or the system of reality, is an objective thought, and, 
 being identical with itself, is the source of the constancy and uni- 
 formity of nature. In this way, the category of causality has an 
 objective significance, and is not merely a category of the under- 
 standing. When Malebranche speaks of God as the only force, 
 he does so, it is urged, only as a protest, under cover of theo- 
 logical expressions, against the occult forces ascribed to finite 
 things, and in order to prove that God is the highest ground and 
 that the laws of nature are His constant volitions. Some of the 
 writers referred to, notably Novaro, dismiss the influence of 
 Descartes, de la Forge, Cordemoy and other Cartesians as of 
 little importance, and claim for Malebranche the discovery of a 
 conception of causality identical with that of modern scientific 
 writers. Such an interpretation is not, however, faithful to 
 the spirit of Malebranche’s teaching. Even if it were adopted, 
 the interpretation would fail to furnish us with a consistent 
 theory ; for the question would at once arise whether a ground 
 which is admittedly unintelligible can be called a ground. If 
 God, or Being, is to be conceived as the ground of all change, 
 then all the processes of change ought to be shown to follow 
 logically from that ground. But, so far is this from being the 
 
56 MALEBRANCHE’S METAPHYSIC 
 
 case, that Malebranche has difficulty in explaining how change 
 is possible at all, consistently with the unity, identity and im- 
 mutability of the divine being. God, he says, does not change ; 
 God’s decrees are eternal and immutable; nevertheless, the 
 effects of these decrees are infinite and produce thousands 
 upon thousands of changes in the universe. This explanation, 
 difficult enough upon any interpretation of occasionalism, loses 
 all meaning if we adopt Novaro’s view. For, then, the occa- 
 sional causes themselves become parts of the process whereby 
 the objective thought unfolds itself, and in that case we cannot 
 ascribe change to them and, at the same time, insist on the 
 immutable character of the divine activity. Further, Novaro 
 has entirely ignored the immense difference that really subsists 
 between Hume and Malebranche in regard to causality, Male- 
 branche does not, in truth, deny a necessary connection 
 between cause and effect. He simply insists that such neces- 
 sary connection is to be found only between one unique cause, 
 namely, God, and all effects; and, as against this position, 
 Hume was clearly right, when, in.discussing this..very...point, 
 he insisted that force is no more intelligible in the divine being 
 than in any other being. It is true Malebranche himself 
 admits that the divine power is inexplicable; but throughout 
 he takes refuge in the thought of God’s omnipotence and insists 
 that between the will of God and its effects there must be a 
 necessary connection, since God’s volitions are bound to be 
 efficacious. It remains to add that Novaro dismisses much 
 too lightly Malebranche’s doctrine of creation as a mere con- 
 cession to religious opinions. Religion and philosophy were 
 not so sharply divided in Malebranche’s thought. He did not 
 suppose that religious dogmas were out of harmony with the 
 principles of reason. Natural revelation and divine revelation 
 were on a level in this respect. The deliverances of both had 
 to be accepted as ultimate data. There are, it is true, many 
 pantheistic elements in Malebranche’s philosophy, but there 
 can be no doubt that he himself resisted and resented such 
 tendencies, or that it was his desire to conceive of God as a 
 personal self-conscious being, and consequently that the doctrine 
 of occasionalism was by him seriously intended to offer an 
 explanation of change and movement on strictly theistic lines. 
 
 Does occasionalism offer a rational solution of its own 
 problem? It must be admitted that the difficulties which it 
 
i 
 
 THE THEORY OF OCCASIONALISM 57 
 
 sought to resolve, the difficulties arising out of the unintelli- 
 gible character of force or agency, and of the disparate char- 
 acter of mind and matter, are not disposed of by having 
 recourse to God, in whom the problem recurs anew and to 
 whom everything is possible only because God is incompre- 
 hensible. If force, or agency, be unintelligible in finite 
 
 things, it is, as Hume urged, equally unintelligible in the 
 
 divine being; and if things of disparate nature cannot act upon 
 
 ' oneanother, it is difficult to see how the movement of our bodily 
 organs, for example, or the movement of any material body, 
 can determine God to reveal ideas to us, or how the presence 
 
 of ideas in our minds can enable God to move our bodily organs. 
 The intervention of God is nothing short of a miracle and cannot 
 in any sense be said to constitute a rational explanation. To 
 some extent, this had been already pointed out by Fontenelle. 
 The same difficulties, he argued, come to the front when we are 
 told that a corporeal thing is set in motion because God wills 
 it so as when we are told that it is set in motion by another 
 corporeal thing. In the former case, I can see merely that it is 
 so because God wills it, but this a mere necessity of fact, 
 while as to the why and the wherefore I am utterly ignorant, 
 and, ‘sil fallait entendre ces sortes des comment-la je ne 
 trouverai pas que Dieu méme fut une cause véritable d’aucun 
 effet.:; 
 
 But, perhaps, the most serious objection which can be 
 urged against occasionalism is that it virtually reduces all finite 
 
 things, both minds and corporeal things, to non-entities, or, 
 
 at the most, to modifications of the divine being. It is in and 
 through God alone, as we have seen, that we know, love or 
 
 _ feel; but if so, God is everything and man counts for nothing ; 
 ' man’s existence becomes something to which no intelligible 
 - meaning can be assigned. Again, as Fontenelle pointed out, 
 
 all the arguments that Malebranche urged against attributing 
 efficacy to finite beings might with equal justice be urged 
 against their existence. 
 
 Malebranche argues that though secondary causes have no 
 
 t Malebranche himself sometimes admits this. Cf. Réponse a Régis 
 (Paris, 1693), Ch. II., p. 35. ‘‘ On ne doit pas exiger de moi que j’explique 
 plus clairement la maniére dont Dieu agit sans cesse dans les esprits. 
 J’avoue que je n’en sais pas davantage.”’ 
 
 2 Doutes sur le systéme physique des causes occasionelles (1686), 
 
58 MALEBRANCHE’S METAPHYSIC 
 
 efficacy of their own, they nevertheless serve the purpose of 
 determining the activity of God, in virtue of the general 
 laws which God has prescribed to Himself. But, since the 
 “occasions ”’ themselves are expressions of the divine activity, 
 and would not have come to be had it not been for that activity, 
 it is clear that they are mere instruments or means employed 
 by God to produce certain effects. Thus, an impact is the occa- 
 sional cause of the movements of corporeal things, our desires 
 and our attention are the occasional causes of our ideas and 
 the movement of our bodily organs; but since God is also the 
 cause of the impact of corporeal things, of our desires and of our 
 attention, the term ‘‘occasion ’’ loses its meaning, and we are 
 left. -with..a-~series. of phenomena succeeding one another in 
 regular. order—an order in which the divine activity finds 
 expression. It is thus apparent that along this line of thought 
 Malebranche’s position leads to a thoroughgoing pantheism, 
 such as was worked out by Spinoza. Moreover, in the light 
 of these considerations, it is clear that Malebranche was not 
 justified in throwing the burden of all that could not consistently 
 be ascribed to God upon finite things. God is eternal and 
 immutable, he argued, when he wished to explain the fact of 
 change, and only His effects change. Yet, if the effects them- 
 selves are expressions of the divine activity, change in them 
 involves change in God. Similarly, in order to justify the 
 irregularities we observe in the world, Malebranche has recourse 
 to the general character of God’s mode of operation. God, he says, 
 acts only by means of general volitions, but these volitions are 
 determined to activity by occasional causes. Thus, for example, 
 God alone is the cause of movements, yet God only moves 
 corporeal things on the occasion of an impulse or impact. But, 
 as Arnauld points out, the contention would only be plausible, 
 if corporeal things came into contact of their own accord; but 
 if the impact or encounter of corporeal things, like all effects 
 in nature, is due to the volition of God, the explanation loses 
 its meaning; and even if a combination of millions of occasional 
 causes were necessary to bring about, say the fall of a fruit, 
 God would not on that account cease to be the cause of the 
 
 fall of that fruit.t It is, in short, a flagrant contradiction to | 
 insist that God is the sole cause of everything that takes place | 
 
 in the world and, at the same time, to urge that God only acts 
 Arnauld, Réflexions philosophiques et théologiques, I. 
 
 | 
 : 
 i 
 { 
 ’ 
 
THE THEORY OF OCCASIONALISM 59 
 
 as a universal cause, whose general volitions are determined 
 to activity by the changeable desires of His creatures or by 
 the impacts of corporeal things, and to assign to the occasional 
 Causes everything that we find to be contradictory of the 
 attributes of God. 
 
 The difficulties involved in making God. the sole principle 
 of activity were most keenly felt by Malebranche himself when 
 dealing with the problem of freedom. Will is the faculty of 
 receiving inclinations, and, as we are incapable of modifying 
 ourselves, these inclinations must come to us from God. Now, 
 God can have Himself alone for the end or motive of His activity, 
 and God’s will is nothing but the infinite love which He has for 
 His own substance. He also loves created things in so far as 
 they participate in His being or imitate His perfections. He 
 loves them in accordance with the degree of perfection to which 
 they attain, since He loves nothing except in accordance with 
 the immutable order of His perfections. Such immutable 
 order is not only the inviolable law of the divine will, but also 
 the “‘natural and necessary ’”’ law of all intelligent minds, since God 
 could not give to created beings a will which would tend whither 
 His own will does not tend, or which would love things not in 
 accordance with the relations in which they stand to His own 
 substance, which He loves infinitely. Hence, by their very 
 nature, finite minds must love God, and it is this natural move- 
 ment towards the Good which God incessantly impresses upon 
 us that, properly speaking, constitutes our will. Of our will 
 we are not masters, since we cannot but wish for our own happi- 
 ness, seeing that we cannot but love the Good. Indeed, in 
 so far as we follow the tendency towards the Good, it is not we 
 ourselves who act, or at any rate our action cannot be distin- 
 guished from that of God. Nevertheless, Malebranche thinks that 
 man is free, for man is master of his will in regard to particular 
 goods, The movement towards the Good in general is impressed 
 upon us by God “‘invincibly ;”’ but, since no particwar good can 
 exhaust all that is contained in the general Good, God does not 
 move us necessarily or invincibly towards the love of any 
 particular good, and we have, therefore, the power to accept or 
 reject it. Being united with God who contains the perfections 
 of all things, we are able to think or to have an idea of any- 
 thing we want, so long as our mental capacity is not absorbed 
 by passions or feelings due to occurrences in our bodily organ- 
 
60 MALEBRANCHE’S METAPHYSIC 
 
 isms; and, accordingly, when any particular good is pre- 
 sented to us, we have the power of suspending our judgment, 
 or of calling up the ideas of other goods or of the supreme Good, 
 and of comparing the particular good before us with the supreme 
 good ; and it is this power which constitutes our freedom. 
 Malebranche is quite aware of the difficulties of the solu- 
 tion. Thus, in the Méditations Métaphysiques he says: “ J’ai 
 de la peine a comprendre comment moi qui suis sans action 
 et sans mouvement, je puis m’arreter a un bien particulier ”’ ; 
 and, in truth, it is impossible to see how the solution can be 
 maintained consistently with his general position. He admits 
 that it is God who moves us towards the Good in general, repre- 
 sents to us the ideas of particular goods, gives us a feeling of 
 those particular goods, and moves us towards them; never- 
 theless, he insists, we have the power, by means of an act of 
 attention, to call up other ideas and so suspend our judgment. 
 But surely this act of attention must itself ultimately be due 
 to God, since it involves at least an arrest of the movement 
 towards the particular good at the moment before us, and such 
 an arrest is a veal act which cannot be ascribed to the finite 
 mind consistently with the principle that God alone is the 
 author of all our modifications. The sole reason which Male- 
 branche offers, in support of his contention, is that we have 
 an inner feeling of our freedom, just as we have of pleasure 
 and pain. If we doubt our freedom, he adds, because we have 
 no Clear idea of it, we should also doubt our feelings of pleasure 
 and pain, and indeed our existence, since we are only aware of 
 our existence by an inner feeling. Yet Malebranche himself 
 has warned us against placing any reliance upon our feelings, 
 e.g. our feeling of effort, when dealing with the problem of 
 causality, and is there any reason why we should trust our inner 
 feelings more in this connection ? And further, on Malebranche’s 
 own showing, feelings of pleasure and pain and sensations 
 often deceive us, since they cause us to attribute sensible 
 qualities to external things and to imagine that they are 
 initiated by ourselves, whereas in truth they are initiated by 
 God. May not a similar argument apply to the feeling we have 
 of freedom? Finally, it should be noted that Malebranche 
 takes away with one hand what he has given with the other. 
 There is, he says, nothing real in our actions. When we give 
 positive consent to a particular good, this act of positive con- 
 
THE THEORY OF OCCASIONALISM 61 
 
 sent is merely a continuation of the movement implanted in our 
 minds by God. Only when we consent to a sinful impulse is 
 the action our own; but even then there is nothing real in our 
 action, it is a mere ‘‘défaut,” “‘ une cessation d’examiner,” 
 “un acte immanent qui ne produit rien de physique dans notre 
 substance,’ “‘un acte qui ne fait rien.’”’ If, however, this be 
 so, it can only be a mere semblance of freedom which is left 
 to us, and it becomes clear that all which is real and positive 
 in the finite mind is lost and absorbed in the divine activity. 
 
 D. Malebranche’s Speculation in relation to Neo- 
 Platonism, Cartesianism, and the Monadology 
 of Leibniz. 
 
 The main difficulties in the philosophy of Malebranche, it 
 will now be manifest, centre round the questions arising in 
 regard to the relations between the finite and the infinite, the 
 particular and the universal. The hypostatisation of ideas 
 or essences and the ascription to them of a veritable existence 
 rendered a knowledge of the particular inexplicable and the 
 existence of the particular unintelligible. The world of finite 
 things can find no real place in Malebranche’s system, apart 
 from recourse to the doctrine of creation, and on his own showing 
 creation is an arbitrary act and does not follow necessarily 
 from the immutable order of ideas which constitutes the divine 
 mind. Moreover, in ascribing existence to the ideas, Male- 
 branche makes it impossible to understand how God can be a 
 self-conscious being and to avoid the conclusion that God is 
 other than a system of Ideas, such as we find in the philosophy 
 of Plato. 
 
 Where he is not following St. Augustine and the neo- 
 Platonists, Malebranche’s teaching may be regarded as following 
 logically from the teaching of Descartes. The essential prin- 
 ciples of method, the emphasis on the significance of clearness 
 and distinctness, the mathematical or mechanical explanation 
 of nature, are common to both philosophers. Malebranche 
 _ retains, too, the dualistic theory of mind and matter despite his 
 doctrine of intelligible extension. There are, however, as we 
 have seen, important points of difference between them, and 
 recently the tendency seems to be to emphasise these points 
 of difference. Some French writers have even spoken of Male- 
 
 “er. 
 
62 MALEBRANCHE’S METAPHYSIC 
 
 ‘ 
 
 branche’s “‘ anti-Cartesianism.”’ Now, there can be no doubt 
 that in their deeper attitude to the problems of philosophy, 
 Malebranche and Descartes do differ profoundly. Descartes 
 aimed at separating metaphysics from religion and theology. 
 He may have thought them quite compatible, but nevertheless 
 he tried to keep them apart. Malebranche, on the contrary, 
 aims to bring about their fusion and union. Religion was for 
 him thoroughly rational, metaphysics essentially religious. ‘“ La 
 religion c’est la vraie philosophie.”! He did not think they 
 could ever conflict with one another. The data of religious 
 experience furnished by revelation and the traditions of the 
 Church were on a level with all other data of experience and 
 had to be included and interpreted in any rational philosophical 
 system.2 Moreover, metaphysical speculation was not for him, 
 - as it was for Descartes, merely a search for truth. It was a 
 means of communion with the Eternal Reason, the Divine 
 _ Logos, a means of sharing in that vision which is salvation. 
 While in Descartes’ works the idea of God is fundamental, yet 
 the existence of God is after all a matter of inference, and in 
 a sense God remains a deus ex machina, standing outside the 
 systematic unity for which Descartes was in search, for Male- 
 branche, on the other hand, our knowledge of God is direct, 
 is indeed the basis of all knowledge whatsoever. Throughout 
 Malebranche’s writings there is evident his sense of our dependence 
 upon God, his intense desire to be in union with God. His whole 
 theory of ideas is profoundly influenced by this attitude and 
 is conceived in a neo-Platonic fashion utterly alien to Descartes’ 
 philosophy, in a fashion indeed which has made some writers 
 speak of him as the Christian Plato. At the same time, a 
 deeper examination of his system will, I think, lead us to endorse 
 the view of Professor Adamson and Professor Dawes Hicks 
 that the characteristic features of Malebranche’s doctrines are 
 logical and even necessary developments of Cartesian prin- 
 ciples. Along various lines of reflection, he tends to consum- 
 mate the absorption of the finite in the Infinite, which was the 
 logical tendency of Cartesianism. In the first place, the 
 doctrine of occasionalism leads irresistibly to the conclusion 
 that whatever of reality there is in finite activity is a mani- 
 festation of the divine activity. In the second place, the 
 doctrine of intelligible extension and the divine immensity 
 t Tratté de Morale, Ch. II. 2 Cf, Entretiens, XII. 
 
_ NEO-PLATONISM, CARTESIANISM, MONADOLOGY 638 
 
 renders unnecessary the assumption of the existence of local 
 or material extension, i.e. of finite things. In the third place, 
 the restriction of knowable ideas to corporeal things and the 
 refusal to admit the existence of an idea of the soul are due, 
 as we have seen, to the well-grounded fear that the admission 
 of such ideas as that of the soul would lead to the conclusion 
 that finite minds are but “‘ modes” of the divine mind. Thus, 
 the hypostatisation of the essences would seem to leave both 
 finite minds and finite things in a precarious position. The 
 historical interest of Malebranche’s system consists, therefore, 
 in the thorough manner in which it exhibits the latent tendencies 
 of Cartesianism. In many respects he goes beyond Descartes, 
 e.g. in the profound distinction between essence and existence, 
 in the insistence upon the universality and necessity of truth 
 and its independence of the arbitrary will of God. He does not, 
 however, succeed any better than Descartes had done in bring- 
 ing the parts of his system together into a coherent whole. 
 Whilst in Descartes’ system God remains outside the world, 
 in Malebranche’s philosophy the world remains outside God, 
 though logically his thought would seem to require that God 
 should be the essence or substance of the world. 
 
 In many important respects, especially in his theodicy, 
 Malebranche anticipated Leibniz. The theory of occasionalism 
 as worked out by him does not imply, as Leibniz so frequently 
 urged, and as is sometimes maintained now, a series of miracles 
 at every moment, for God, according to Malebranche, acts in 
 accordance with general volitions, i.e. general laws. The 
 adaptation of movement to ideas, for example, is the result of 
 the laws of the communication of motion and the laws of the 
 conjunction of body and soul, and God, having once laid down 
 these laws, the rest follows as a matter of strict necessity. Thus 
 interpreted, the theory of occasionalism comes very near to. 
 Leibniz’s own doctrine of pre-established harmony. So much is, 
 indeed, admitted by Leibniz himself. Thus in a letter to De 
 Montmort! Leibniz writes, ‘““I do not find that the opinions 
 of Father Malebranche are very far removed from my own. 
 The transition from occasional causes to pre-established har- 
 mony does not appear to be very difficult.” Malebranche 
 also anticipated Leibniz’s views with regard to Providence and 
 
 t Trois lettres 4 M. Remond de Montmort, Opera Philosophica (Erdmann), 
 Pp. 704. 
 
64 MALEBRANCHE’S METAPHYSIC 
 
 with regard to optimism. After the manner of Leibniz he 
 believed that God contemplated a series of possible worlds and 
 chose from amongst them the best possible. After the 
 manner of Leibniz, too, he insisted on the importance of general 
 volitions for explaining many apparent evils as due to the 
 generality of God’s “‘ ways.’’ But while Malebranche was com- 
 pelled, in order to make the finite world worthy of God, to 
 have recourse to theology and the mystery of incarnation, 
 Leibniz avoided the difficulty of reconciling the divine omnipo- 
 tence and wisdom with the apparent imperfection of the 
 finite world by means of his notion of the infinite perfectibility 
 of the universe. The latter notion does not appear in Male- 
 branche’s writings. 
 
 It remains to add that the difficulties with regard to the 
 fundamental problems of metaphysics with which Malebranche 
 is confronted recur in a new form in Leibniz’s speculation. 
 Leibniz’s ‘“‘ possibilities’’ really correspond to Malebranche’s 
 “‘essences.”’ To effect the transition from essence to existence, 
 Malebranche, as we have seen, has to invoke the aid of the 
 divine will. This is precisely what happens in the handling 
 of the problem by Leibniz. For Leibniz, too, the world of 
 monads is contingent, is “‘ called ’’ into existence by the divine 
 will as distinguished from the divine understanding. Even 
 the principle used by Leibniz in this connection of the “‘ choice 
 of the best’ is foreshadowed by Malebranche. Yet what pre- 
 cisely it is that constitutes the mode of transition from the 
 world of possible essences to actual entities neither Leibniz 
 nor Malebranche is able to say. Moreover, the relation that 
 subsists between finite substances and God is left by Leibniz 
 far from clear. Though he was anxious to defend the sub- 
 stantiality and independence of the individual, he speaks of 
 finite monads as “ products or fulgurations of the divinity from 
 moment to moment,’ or as “ proceeding from God by a kind 
 of emanation,’ and in some passages he adopts quite clearly the 
 doctrine of continuous creation. No more than Malebranche 
 was he able to combine within the compass of one system both 
 the independence of individual finite beings and the omni- 
 presence of God. 
 
 Similar difficulties come to the front, if we approach the 
 problem from the point of view of the theory of knowledge. 
 Leibniz had occasion more than once to criticise the concep- 
 
NEO-PLATONISM, CARTESIANISM, MONADOLOGY 65 
 
 tions of Malebranche.t Generally it may be said that while 
 Malebranche held that we see all things in God, Leibniz main-: 
 tained that each monad sees all things in itself. Leibniz will 
 not have it that the ideas which we have are in God, but in- 
 sists that they merely correspond to the ideas in the mind of 
 God. He admits that external objects cannot be immediately 
 known by us, but, he argues, we know them through modifi- 
 cations in our souls. The disparity between the infinite char- 
 acter of some ideas and the finite character of our modifications 
 does not present any difficulty to him. That which “expresses ’”’ 
 something, for example, a figure that expresses a number, need 
 not resemble that which is expressed. He allows, however, 
 that the theory that we see all things in God is true in the 
 sense that whatever is positive in our ideas is ultimately due to 
 the continuous action of God on our minds. Apart from the 
 difficulties occasioned by the notion of the activity of the 
 supreme monad on other monads, it is clear that, if the view 
 be taken seriously, the existence of particulars becomes at once 
 problematical, since God’s activity might well be exerted even 
 without them, and, in point of fact, Leibniz frequently asserts 
 that the development of each monad takes place as though 
 only that monad and God existed. Once more, the conception of 
 each monad as mirroring from its own point of view the whole 
 universe required for its presupposition the doctrine of pre- 
 established harmony, and from _that doctrine the doctrine of 
 occasionalism, as it emerged from the hands of Malebranche, 
 was at no great remove. 
 
 : Entretiens de Philarete et d’Ariste, Gerhardt, Vol. 6; Eine Prifung von 
 
 Locke’s Urtheil tibey Malebranche, Ibid.; Meditationes de Cognitione, veritate 
 et Ideis, Ibid., Vol. 4. 
 

 
DIALOGUES ON METAPHYSICS 
 AND ON RELIGION 
 
moevine THIN BL 
 | ORI, bi 
 
 eT 
 
 Ae 
 ae 
 
 
 
FIRST DIALOGUE 
 
 The soul and its distinction from the body—The nature of ideas—The 
 world in which our bodies dwell and which we survey is quite 
 different from the world which we see. 
 
 THEODORE. Well, my dear Aristes, since you insist, I needs 
 must talk to you of my metaphysical visions. But in order 
 to do so, I must first take leave of this enchanting scene which 
 casts its spell on our senses and by its variety proves too dis- 
 tracting toa mindsuchas mine. As Iam extremely apprehensive 
 lest I should take for the immediate responses of inner truth 
 some of my own prejudices or some of those confused principles 
 which owe their origin to the laws of the conjunction of soul 
 and body, and as in these surroundings I am unable to 
 silence, as you perhaps can, a certain hum which is so disturbing 
 to all my ideas, I suggest that we should go elsewhere. Let 
 us go and shut ourselves up in your study, where we can the 
 more easily pursue our inward meditations and contrive that 
 nothing shall prevent us from both consulting our common 
 master, universal Reason. Forit is inner truth that must preside 
 over our conversation. It is truth that must dictate to me what 
 I shall say to you and what you desire to learn with my help. 
 In short, it is to truth that belongs the privilege of judging and 
 deciding our differences. To-day our only object is to philo- 
 sophise; and, although you are perfectly submissive to the 
 authority of the Church, it is your desire that I should speak 
 to you, in the first place, as if you were unwilling to accept the 
 truths of faith as principles of our knowledge. Faith indeed 
 must guide our mental procedure, but supreme Reason alone is 
 capable of filling our mind with intelligence. 
 
 ARISTES. Let us go, Theodore, wherever you will. I am 
 disgusted with all that I see in this material and sensuous world, 
 since I have heard you speak of another world full of intelligible 
 beauty. Lead me to this happy and enchanted region. Make 
 
 me contemplate all those wonders of which you spoke to me 
 69 
 
 &... 
 
70 FIRST DIALOGUE 
 
 the other day in a manner so magnificent and with a look of 
 such content. Come, I am ready to follow you into this country 
 which you believe to be so inaccessible to those who listen only 
 to their senses. 
 
 THEODORE. You are enjoying yourself, Aristes, and I do 
 not object. You are poking fun at me in a manner so delicate 
 and sincere, that I feel you want to amuse yourself but not to 
 offend me. I forgive you. You are following the hidden 
 inspirations of your ever lively imagination. But, do not mind 
 my telling you, you speak of that which you do not understand. 
 No, I shall not lead you into a strange land; but I shall show 
 you perhaps that you are a stranger in your own land. I shall 
 show you that this world in which you live is not that which you 
 believe it to be, for it is not actually such as you see and 
 feel. You judge by the information furnished by the senses of 
 all the objects of your environment, and your senses mislead 
 you vastly more than you can imagine. They are good wit- 
 _ nesses only for matters that concern the body and the main- 
 tenance of life. As to all else there is no accuracy nor truth 
 in the information they give us. You will see this, Aristes, 
 without going out of yourself and without my leading you into 
 the fairy region which your imagination pictures for you. 
 Imagination is a fool that likes to play the fool. Its flashes 
 of wit, its unforeseen turns, will amuse you and me also. Yet it 
 is necessary, if you please, that in our discussions reason alone 
 should be supreme. It is necessary that it should decide and 
 pronounce judgment. Indeed, reason is silent and escapes us 
 ever, when imagination comes in the way, and when instead 
 of bidding it be silent we listen to its pleasantries and linger over 
 the various phantoms which it calls up. Bid it be silent, if you 
 wish to hear clearly and distinctly the deliverances of inner truth. 
 
 ARISTES. You are taking quite seriously, Theodore, what 
 I have said without much thought. Forgive me for the little 
 liberty I have taken. I assure you that... 
 
 THEODORE. You have not vexed me, Aristes. You have, 
 on the contrary, delighted me. For, once more, your imagina- 
 tion is so lively and delightful, and I feel so sure of you that 
 you never make me angry and you always please me, so 
 long at least as you poke fun at me only when we are alone; 
 and what I have just told you is meant only to make you realise 
 that you are terribly antagonistic to truth. That quality which 
 
ON METAPHYSICS ia 
 
 makes you striking in the eyes of men, which wins for you all hearts, © 
 which gains for you the esteem of all, which causes all those 
 who know you to be eager for your company, that quality is 
 the most irreconcilable enemy of reason. I am putting before 
 you a paradox the truth of which I cannot at present prove.t 
 But you will soon realise its truth from your own experience, 
 and you will perhaps see the reason for it in the course of our 
 talks. To reach this point we have still a long way to traverse. 
 But, believe me, the stupid mind and the gay mind are alike 
 equally barred from truth. There is only this difference between 
 them, that usually the stupid respects it and the gay despises 
 it. Nevertheless, if you are bent on feeding your imagination, 
 you will enter without difficulty into the place where reason 
 issues its deliverances ; and when you have listened to reason 
 for some time you will have nothing but contempt for that which 
 up to the present has charmed you, and if God touches your 
 heart you will have nothing but disgust. 
 
 ARISTES. Let us go quickly, Theodore. Your promises inspire 
 me with an enthusiasm which I cannot express. Certainly 
 I shall do all that you direct me to do. Let us double 
 our pace. Thank God we have at last reached the place 
 destined for our talks. Let us go in. ... Beseated. What 
 is there here that can, hinder us from entering into ourselves and 
 _ consulting reason? Do you wish me to shut out all the 
 possible rays of light so that darkness shall cover everything 
 in the room that is visible and that can affect our senses ? 
 
 THEODORE. No, my friend. Darkness affects our senses 
 just as much as light. It removes the lustre of colours. But 
 at the present hour it might cause some uneasiness and fear 
 in our imaginations. Draw the curtain. This bright light will 
 inconvenience us a little and perhaps give too much lustre to 
 certain objects. That is all right. Beseated. Reject, Aristes, 
 all that has come into your mind by means of the senses. Silence 
 your imagination. Let all things in you be in perfect silence. 
 Forget also, if you can, that you have a body, and think only 
 of what I am going to tell you. In a word, be attentive, and 
 do not find fault with my preamble. Your attention is all I 
 ask of you. Without this effort or this struggle of the mind 
 
 against the impressions of sense, we can make no conquest in 
 the realm of truth. 
 
 t Traité de morale, Ch. XII, 
 
72 FIRST DIALOGUE 
 
 ARISTES. I believe so, too, Theodore. Speak, but permit me 
 to stop you when I cannot follow you. 
 THEODORE. That is quite right. Listen. 
 
 I. Nothing or Non-being has no qualities. I think, there- 
 fore I am.t But what am I, I that think during the 
 time that I am thinking? Am I a body, a mind, a man? 
 As yet I know nothing of all this. I know only that 
 during the time in which I think I am something that thinks. 
 Now let us see. Can a body think? Can a piece of extension 
 whether of length, width or depth, reason, desire, feel? No, 
 beyond a doubt, for all the modifications of such an extension 
 consist only in certain relations of distance; and it is obvious 
 that such relations are not perceptions, reasonings, pleasures, 
 desires, feelings, in a word, thoughts. This “‘I’’ that thinks, 
 then, my own substance, is not a body, since my perceptions, 
 which certainly belong to me, are entirely different things 
 from these relations of distance. 
 
 ARISTES. It is clear to me that modifications of extension 
 can only be relations of distance, and that, therefore, extension 
 cannot know, will or feel. But perhaps my body is something 
 else besides extension. For, it seems to me, it is my finger that 
 feels the pain of a prick, my heart which desires, my brain which 
 reasons. The inner feeling I have of all that goes on within me 
 teaches me what Iam saying to you. Prove to me that my body is 
 nothing but extension, and I will admit that my mind, or that 
 in me which thinks, wills and reasons, is not material or corporeal. 
 
 II. THEODORE. What, Aristes! Do you believe that your 
 body consists of some substance other than extension? Do 
 you not understand that it suffices alone to have extension to 
 form out of it a brain, a heart, arms, hands, all the veins, the 
 arteries, the nerves, and whatever else the body is composed 
 of? If God were to destroy the extension of your body would you 
 still have a brain, veins, arteries, etc.? Do you believe, then, 
 that a body can be reduced to a mathematical point? That 
 God can form all that there is in the universe out of the extension 
 ofa grain of sand, I do not doubt. But, assuredly, when there is 
 no extension (I say mo extension), there is no corporeal substance. 
 Think it over seriously, and in order to become convinced of 
 
 it, pay attention to this. 
 t St. Augustine, City of God, Bk. XI, Ch. XXVI. 
 
ON METAPHYSICS 73 
 
 All that is or has being can either be conceived by itself,- 
 orit cannot. There isno middle course, for these two propositions 
 are contradictories. Now, all that can be conceived by itself 
 and without the thought of anything else, all, I say, that can 
 be conceived by itself as existing independently of every other 
 thing, and without the idea which we have of it representing 
 any other thing, is assuredly a being or a substance, and all that 
 cannot be conceived by itself and without the thought of anything 
 else is a mode of Being or a modification of Substance. 
 
 For example. We cannot think of roundness without think- 
 ing of extension. Roundness, then, is not a being or substance, 
 but a mode of being. We can think of extension without 
 thinking of any other thing in particular. Therefore, extension 
 is not a mode of being. It is itself a being. Since the modi- 
 fication of a substance is only the substance itself determined 
 in a particular way, it is evident that the idea of a modification 
 necessarily involves the idea of the substance of which it is a 
 modification. Again, since a substance is that which subsists by 
 itself, the idea of a substance does not necessarily involve the idea 
 of any other being. We have no other way of distinguishing sub- 
 stances or beings, modifications or modes of being, than by the 
 different ways in which we think of them. Now, consider. Is 
 it not true that you can think of extension without thinking 
 of any other thing? Is it not true that you can become aware 
 of extension by itself? Extension, therefore, is a substance and 
 not a mode of substance. Accordingly, extension and matter are 
 one and thesame substance. But I can think of thought, desires, 
 pleasures, without thinking of extension, and even if I suppose 
 that there is _no-extension. Hence all these are not modes 
 of extension, but modes of a substance which thinks, which feels, 
 which desires, and which is quite different from extension. 
 
 All the modifications of extension consist in nothing but 
 relations of distance. But it is evident that my pleasures, 
 my desires, my thoughts, are not relations of distance. All 
 relations of distance can be compared, measured, determined, 
 in an exact manner by the principles of geometry, but we can- 
 not compare or measure our perceptions or our feelings in this 
 way. Therefore, my soul.is not material. It is not a modifi- 
 cation of my body. It is a substance which thinks-and_which 
 has no resemblance to the extended substance of which my 
 body is made up. 
 
74 FIRST DIALOGUE 
 
 ARISTES. That seems to me demonstrated. But what con- 
 clusions can you draw from it? 
 
 III. THEODORE. I can deduce an infinite number of truths 
 from it. For the distinction of body and soul is the basis of 
 the main tenets of philosophy, and among others of the immor- 
 tality of the soul.t For, let me say this in passing, if the soul 
 is a substance distinguished from the body, it is clear that, even 
 if death were to annihilate our body (which it does not do), it 
 would not follow from that that our soul was also annihilated. 
 But it is not yet time to deal in a thorough manner with this 
 important question. It is necessary that I should first prove 
 to you many other truths. Try to be attentive to what I am 
 going to tell you. | 
 
 ARISTES. Proceed. I shall follow you with all the appli- 
 cation of which I am capable. 
 
 IV. THEopoRE. I think of a quantity of things, of a number, 
 a circle, a house, of such and such beings, of Being. Therefore, all 
 these are at least during the time in which Iam thinking of them. 
 Surely, when I think of a circle, of a number, of Being or the 
 Infinite, of a certain finite being, I am aware of these realities. 
 For if the circle of which I am aware were nothing, in thinking 
 of it I should be thinking of nothing. But the circle of which 
 I am thinking has properties which no other figure has. Hence 
 this circle exists during the time in which I am thinking ofit, since 
 nothing or non-entity has no properties, and one non-entity 
 cannot be different from any other non-entity. 
 
 ARISTES. What, Theodore! Do you mean to say that what- 
 ever you may choose to think of exists? Does your mind give 
 being to this cabinet, this bureau, this chair, because you think 
 of them ? 
 
 THEODORE. Not so fast. I am saying that all that I think 
 of zs or, if you like, exists. The cabinet, the bureau, these chairs 
 which I see, all these ave at least during the time in which I see 
 them. But you are mixing up what I see with a piece of furni- 
 ture that I do not see. There is a greater difference between 
 the bureau that I see and that which you believe you see than 
 there is between your mind and your body. 
 
 ARISTES. I understand you partly, Theodore, and I am 
 sorry for having interrupted you. I am convinced that all 
 t See Recherche, Bk. IV, Ch. II. ; 
 
ON METAPHYSICS 75 
 
 that we see, and all that we think of, has some reality. You 
 are not talking of objects, but of the ideas of objects. Yes, 
 no doubt, the ideas which we have of objects exist during the 
 time in which they are present to the mind. But I thought 
 you were speaking of the objects themselves. 
 
 V. THEODORE. Of the objects themselves, why, we have not 
 got to them! Iam trying to think the matter out in the proper 
 order. Many more principles than you may suppose are necessary 
 to prove what no one doubts. For where are the people who 
 doubt whether they have bodies, whether they are walking on this 
 earth, whether they are living in a material world? But you 
 will know soon what few people understand well, namely, that if 
 our body moves about in a corporeal world, our mind, on the other 
 hand, transports us incessantly into a world of intelligence which 
 touches it, and which thereby becomes accessible to the senses. 
 Since men attach no value to the ideas which they have of things, 
 they give to the created world more reality than it has. They 
 do not doubt the existence of objects, and they attribute to 
 them many qualities which they have not. Yet they do not 
 think of the reality of their ideas. This is so because they listen 
 to their senses and do not consult inner truth. For, once again, 
 it is much easier to prove the_reality of ideas or,.if I mayuse 
 your terms, the reality of this other world filled with the beauties 
 of intelligence than to prove the existence of the material world. 
 My reasons are as follows. Ideas have an eternal and necessary 
 existence, but the corporeal world exists only because it has 
 pleased God to create it. So, in order to see the intelligible 
 world, it is sufficient to consult reason which contains the ideas, 
 or.the eternal.and necessary intelligible essences, and this can 
 be accomplished by all minds that are rational or are united 
 to. the infinite Reason. But in order to see the material world, 
 or rather to judge that this world exists, since that world is 
 invisible in itself, it is necessary that God should reveal it to us, 
 for we cannot see His arbitrary volitions in the necessary Reason. 
 Now God reveals the existence of His creations in two ways, by the 
 - authority of the sacred writings and by means of the senses. 
 
 Given the first authority (and we cannot reject it), we can 
 give a strict demonstration of the existence of objects.t By 
 means of the second we can get sufficient assurance of the 
 existence of particular bodies. Yet this second authority is by 
 
 t Dialogue VI. 
 
76 FIRST DIALOGUE 
 
 no means infallible. For one person believes he sees before him 
 his enemy when the latter is very far away from him. Another 
 believes that he has four paws, whereas he really has two legs. 
 Another again feels pain in an arm which had been amputated 
 long ago. Thus the natural revelation which comes about in 
 consequence of the general laws of the conjunction of soul and 
 body is at present subject to error. I will tell you the reason 
 later! But the Revelation can never lead directly to error, for 
 God cannot wish to deceive us. I have digressed a little in 
 order to give you an idea of some truths which I will prove in 
 the sequel, so as to arouse your curiosity and revive your atten- 
 tion. Ireturn to the subject. Listen. I think of a number, of a 
 circle, of a room, of chairs,in a word, of certain particular beings. 
 I think also of Being or the Infinite, or of Indeterminate Being. 
 All these ideas have some reality while I think of them. You 
 cannot doubt this, since nothing or non-being has no properties, 
 and they have. For they enlighten the mind and make them- 
 selves known to it. Some of them even strike the mind and 
 make themselves felt or sensed, and that in a thousand different 
 ways. At least it is certain that the properties of some differ 
 greatly from those of others. If, then, our ideas are veritably 
 real, and still more, if their reality is necessary, eternal and 
 immutable, it is clear that we are both of us carried into another 
 world than that in which our bodies dwell. We find ourselves 
 in a world all filled with intelligible beauties. 
 
 Let us suppose, Aristes, that God destroyed all the beings which 
 He has created, except you and me, or your body and mine. 
 (1 speak to you as to a man who already knows and believes 
 several things, and I am certain that in this I am not mistaken. 
 I should weary you were I to speak with scrupulous care and in 
 the manner appropriate to a man who yet knows nothing at 
 all.) Let us suppose, too, that God imprinted upon your brain 
 the same traces, or rather produced in your mind the same ideas, 
 which we take to be present now. This being granted, in which 
 world, Aristes, should we be passing the day ? Would it not bean 
 intelligible world ? Now, note this, it is in this world that we are and 
 that we live, though the body which we animate lives in another 
 world and moves about in another world. It is this world which 
 we contemplate, admire, feel. Yet the world which we pay 
 regard to and which we concern ourselves with when we turn our 
 heads in all directions, is nothing but matter which is invisible 
 
 1 Cf. Dialogues IV and VI. 
 
ON METAPHYSICS 77 
 
 in itself, and which has none of those beauties which we admire, 
 and which we feel when we are mindful of it. For, consider this care- 
 fully, nothing or non-being has no properties. If, therefore, the 
 world were destroyed, it would have no beauty. But, supposing 
 that the world were annihilated, and that God nevertheless 
 produced in our brains the same traces, or rather in our minds the 
 same ideas, which are produced in them on the presence of objects, 
 we should still see the same beauty. Hence the beauties that 
 we see are not material beauties, but beauties of intelligence 
 rendered perceptible in consequence of the conjunction of soul 
 and body, for the supposed annihilation of matter does not 
 carry with it the annihilation of the beauties which we see. 
 ArIsTES. I am afraid, Theodore, that you are supposing 
 what is not true. For if God destroyed this room, certainly 
 it would no longer be visible, for non-being has no properties. 
 
 VI. THEODORE. You do not follow me, Aristes. Your room 
 is in itself absolutely invisible. If God had destroyed it, you say, 
 it would no longer be visible, since non-being has no properties. 
 That would be true, if the visibility of your room were a property 
 which belonged to it. If it were destroyed, it would no longer 
 be visible. Granted; sincein a sense that is true. But that which 
 I see in having regard to your room, I mean in turning my eyes 
 in all directions so as to consider it, will always be visible even 
 if your room should be destroyed, nay, even if it had never been 
 built. I submit to you, that a Chinaman who had never been 
 here could see in his own country all that I see when I pay regard to 
 your room, provided we suppose, what is by no means impossible, 
 that his brain has been affected in the same manner as mine 
 has been when I concern myself with it. Do not persons in a 
 violent fever, or when asleep, see chimeras of all kinds which 
 never had existence? What they see ts at least while they see 
 it. Yet what they believe they see is not. That to which they 
 refer what they have seen is nothing real. 
 
 I repeat, Aristes, strictly speaking, your roomis not visible. It 
 is not properly your room that I see when I pay regard to it, since 
 I could see all that I see now, even if God had destroyed it. 
 The dimensions which I see are immutable, eternal, necessary. 
 These intelligible dimensions which I see occupy no space. The 
 dimensions of your room, on the contrary, are changeable and 
 corruptible: they do fill a certain space. But in telling you 
 
78 FIRST DIALOGUE 
 
 too many truths I am afraid 1 am only so far multiplying your 
 difficulties. For you seem to me to find it difficult to distin- 
 guish the ideas which are alone visible by themselves from the 
 objects which they represent, which are not visible to the mind, 
 since they cannot act on it or be represented to it. 
 
 ARISTES. It is true I am a little confused. The reason 
 is that I have some difficulty in following you in this land of 
 ideas to which you attribute a veritable reality. I can get no 
 hold over anything that has no body. And this reality of your 
 ideas, which I cannot but believe is a veritable reality, for the 
 reasons that you have just given me, appears to me to have but 
 little solidity. For, I ask you, what becomes of our ideas when 
 we no longer think of them? To me it seems that they retire 
 into non-being. And if that is the case, your intelligible world is 
 destroyed. If, on closing my eyes, I destroy the intelligible room 
 which I see now, then the room has but a poor reality. If it is 
 sufficient for me to open my eyes in order to create an intelligible 
 world, then surely this world is not of as much value as the one 
 in which our bodies dwell. 
 
 VII. THEODORE. That is true, Aristes. If it is you who 
 give being to your ideas, if only a wink of the eye is necessary 
 to annihilate them, then their reality is but a poor thing. Yet 
 if they are eternal, immutable, necessary, in a word divine 
 (I mean the intelligible reality out of which they are formed), 
 assuredly they are more important than this unavailing matter 
 which is in itself invisible. What, Aristes! Can you possibly 
 believe, then, that in resolving to think of a circle, for example, 
 you are giving being to the substance, so to speak, of which your 
 idea is formed, and that as soon as you decide to cease thinking 
 of it you are annihilating it? Be careful. If it is you who give 
 being to your ideas, you do so by willing to think of them. But, 
 now, how can you will to think of a circle, if you have as yet 
 no idea of it and out of which to form and complete it? Can you 
 will anything without knowing it ? Could you make something 
 out of nothing? Certainly, you cannot will to think of a circle if 
 you have as yet no idea of it, or at least of extension, of certain 
 parts of which you could think without thinking of others. You 
 cannot will to see it closely, distinctly, if you have not yet seen 
 it confusedly and fromadistance. Your attention brings you near 
 to it, causes it to be present to you, even forms it. Granted. Still 
 
ON METAPHYSICS 79 
 
 it is clear that it does not produce it out of nothing. Your inatten- 
 tion takes you away from it, but it does not absolutely annihilate 
 it. For if it did, how could you form the desire to produce it, 
 and according to what model would you make it anew, so similar 
 to itself? Is it not clear that this would be impossible ? 
 
 ARISTES. Not too clear as yet to me, Theodore. You have 
 convinced me, but yet you have not quite carried me with you. 
 This earth is real, I feel it. If I strike it with my foot, it resists. 
 There is something solid here. But that my ideas have a reality 
 independently of my thought, that they have being even when 
 I do not think them, that is something I cannot persuade myself 
 into believing. 
 
 VIII. THEODORE. You cannot do so because you cannot 
 retire into yourself in order to consult Reason, and because 
 fatigued with the work of attending, you are listening to your 
 imagination and your senses, which speak to you without your 
 having the trouble to consult them. You have not thought 
 sufficiently over the proofs which I have given to show you 
 that their testimony is deceptive. 
 
 Some time ago there was a man, otherwise quite sensible, 
 who believed that he was always surrounded by water up to 
 his waist, and was always in fear lest it should increase 
 and drown him. He felt it just as you feel your earth. He 
 found it cold, and always walked very slowly because, he said, 
 the water prevented him from walking more quickly. When 
 he was spoken to and he listened, he was persuaded of the falsity 
 of his belief. But he soon fell again into his error. When 
 a man believes himself transformed into a cock, a hare, a wolf, 
 or an ox like Nebuchadnezzar, he feels instead of his feet the 
 feet of a cock, instead of arms he feels the legs of an ox, 
 and instead of hair a tuft or horns. How is it that you 
 do not see that the resistance which you feel when you 
 press the floor with your foot is only a feeling which strikes 
 the soul, and that, strictly speaking, we can have all our feelings 
 independently of objects? Have you never during sleep felt 
 a heavy weight on the breast which prevented you from breath- 
 ing, have you never believed you were struck or even wounded 
 or that you were striking others, or walking or dancing or 
 jumping on solid earth ? 
 
 You believe this floor exists because you feel it ‘offers 
 
80 FIRST DIALOGUE 
 
 resistance. What then? Has the air less reality than your 
 floor because it has less solidity? Has ice more reality than 
 water because it is harder? But you are mistaken. Nothing 
 can resist a mind. This floor resists your foot. Granted. Yet 
 it is something entirely different from your floor or your body 
 which resists your mind or which gives it the feeling that you 
 have of resistance or solidity. 
 
 Nevertheless, I will grant even that your floor resists you. 
 But do you think that your ideas do not resist you? Find, 
 then, in a circle two diameters which are not equal or in an 
 ellipse three which are. Find the square root of 8 or the cube root 
 of 9. Cause that it should be just to do to others what we do 
 not wish to be done to ourselves, or to take an example which 
 comes nearer to your own case, two feet of intelligible exten- 
 sion to equal only one. Surely the nature of intelligible extension 
 would not allow this. It offers resistance to your mind. Do 
 not, then, doubt its reality. Your floor is impenetrable to your 
 foot. That your senses teach you in a confused and misleading 
 manner. Intelligible extension is also impenetrable in its own 
 way, a fact which it makes you see clearly through its self- 
 evidence and by its own light. 
 
 Listen, Aristes. You have an idea of space or extension, 
 of space, that is, which has no limits. This idea is necessary, 
 eternal, immutable, common to all minds, common to men, 
 angels and God Himself. This idea, you must remember, 
 is ineffacable from your mind, as is also the idea of Being or 
 of the Infinite or indeterminate Being. It is always present 
 to the mind. You cannot sever yourself from it or lose it 
 entirely from view. And it is from this vast idea that we 
 get not only the idea of a circle and of all intelligible figures, 
 but also those of the sensible figures which we see in surveying 
 the created world. We do all this according to the different 
 applications of the intelligible parts of this ideal immaterial 
 extension intelligible to our mind, now as a result of our atten- 
 tion, in which case we know these figures, now as a result of 
 tracings in and affections of our brain, in which case we 
 imagine or feel them. I need not explain all this to you at 
 present in greater detail. Only remember that it is necessary 
 that this idea of an infinite extension should have a good deal 
 of reality, since you cannot comprehend it, and since, however 
 much you exercise your mind, you cannot exhaust it. Consider 
 
ON METAPHYSICS 81 
 
 how impossible it is that it should be a modification, seeing that 
 the Infinite cannot be actually a modification of something that 
 is finite. Say to yourself: My mind cannot comprehend this vast 
 idea. It cannot measure it. The idea, then, surpasses the mind 
 infinitely, and if it surpasses it, it is clear that it cannot be a 
 modification of it. For the modifications of any beings cannot 
 extend beyond those beings, since the modifications of beings 
 are only those very beings determined in such and such a way. 
 My mind cannot measure this idea because it is finite and the idea 
 is infinite. For the finite, however big it may be, be it applied 
 or repeated as many times as you like, can never equal 
 infinity. 
 
 ARISTES. How subtle and quick you are. Gently, if you 
 please. I deny that the mind is aware of the Infinite. The mind, 
 I grant, is aware of an extension, whose limit we cannot see, 
 but it does not see an infinite extension; a finite mind cannot 
 see the Infinite. 
 
 IX. THEODORE. No, Aristes. The mind does not see an 
 infinite extension in the sense that its thought or perception 
 can equal an infinite extension. If that were the case, it 
 would comprehend or include it and would be infinite itself. 
 For an infinite thought is necessary to measure an infinite idea, 
 if it is to be actually united with all that is comprehended in the 
 Infinite. But the mind actually sees that its immediate object 
 is infinite, it actually sees that intelligible extension is infinite. 
 And this is the case, not as you believe, because it cannot see 
 its end; for if that were so it might hope to find it, or at least 
 it could doubt whether or not it had an end; but rather because 
 it sees clearly that it has none. 
 
 Let us suppose that a man fallen from the clouds is walking 
 the earth, keeping always in a straight line,—I mean on one of 
 those big circles into which the geographers divide it,—and that 
 he meets with no obstacles on the way. Could he decide after 
 some days’ journey that the earth was infinite because he had 
 not found its end? If he were a wise man and cautious in his 
 _ judgments he would believe it very large, but he would not think 
 it infinite. And if, by dint of walking, he found he had returned to 
 the same place as he started from, he would realise that he had 
 actually been round it. But when the mind thinks of intelligible 
 extension, when it wishes to measure the idea of space, it sees 
 
 6 
 
82 FIRST DIALOGUE 
 
 clearly that extension is infinite. It cannot doubt the inex- 
 haustible character of this idea. | 
 Were the mind to take as much of it as is necessary for repre- 
 senting to itself the space of a hundred thousand worlds and 
 at every moment a hundred thousand more, the idea would never 
 cease to supply it with all that was wanted. The mind sees it 
 and cannot doubt it. But it is not through this that it realises 
 it is infinite. It is rather because it actually sees it to be 
 infinite that the mind knows that it cannot exhaust it. 
 Geometricians are the most exact of all those who are 
 engaged in reasoning. But all agree that there is no fraction 
 which, multiplied by itself, would give a product of 8, although 
 by increasing the terms of the fraction we can get as close an 
 approximation as we wish to this number. All agree that a 
 hyperbole and its asymptotes and many other similar lines 
 produced to infinity approach one another, without ever 
 meeting. Do you think they discover these truths by groping 
 in the dark, and that they judge of what they cannot see by 
 some little thing which they have discovered? No, Aristes, 
 imagination and the senses, or they who follow their testimony, 
 proceed in this manner. True philosophers judge precisely of 
 nothing but what they see. And yet they are not afraid of 
 asserting, without actual experience, that no part of the diagonal 
 of a square, be it a million times smaller than the smallest grain 
 of sand, can equal exactly, and without leaving a remainder, 
 this diagonal of a square and either of its sides. So also it is 
 true that the mind can see the infinite in the small as well as 
 in the great; not by division or repeated multiplication of its 
 finite ideas which could never reach the infinite, but by the infinity 
 itself which it discovers in its ideas and which belongs to them. 
 These ideas teach it that on the one hand there is no unity, and 
 on the other that there are no limits, in intelligible extension. 
 ARISTES. I yield, Theodore. Ideas have more reality than 
 I thought, and their reality is immutable, necessary, eternal, 
 common to all intelligences, and never modifications of their own 
 being, which being finite cannot have modes which are infinite. 
 The perception which I have of intelligible extension belongs 
 to me; it is a modification of my mind. It is I who perceive 
 this extension. But the extension which I perceive is not itself 
 a modification of my mind. For I am quite sure that it is not 
 myself which I see when I think of infinite spaces, of a circle, 
 
ON METAPHYSICS 83 
 
 a square, a cube, when I survey this room, and when I turn 
 my eyes towards the sky. The perception of extension is mine. 
 But this extension, and all the figures which I discover therein, 
 in a way which I should very much like to know, are not mine. 
 The perception which I have of extension cannot take place 
 without me. It must, therefore, be a modification of my mind. 
 But the extension which I see subsists without me, since you can 
 contemplate it, without my having to think of it, you and all 
 other men. 
 
 X. THEODORE. You can add without any fear, ‘‘ and God 
 Himself.”” For all our clear ideas are in God so far as their 
 intelligible reality is concerned. It is in God alone that we 
 see them; in the universal Reason alone which illumines all 
 intelligences. If our ideas are eternal, immutable, necessary, 
 you can easily see that they can have being only in a nature 
 which isimmutable. Yes, Aristes. God seesin Himself the intel- 
 ligible extension, the archetype of the matter out of which the 
 world is formed and in which our bodies dwell, and more than this, 
 it is only in Him that we see it. For our minds have their being 
 only in the universal Reason, only in that intelligible substance 
 which contains in itself all the ideas of all the truths which we 
 discover,! whether in consequence of the general laws which 
 govern the union of our mind with the universal Reason, or 
 in consequence of the general law of the conjunction of:our 
 soul with our body, of which conjunction the occasional or 
 natural cause consists in the impressions which are made on the 
 brain by the action of objects or by the flow of the animal spirits. 
 
 The order of exposition does not allow me at present to explain 
 all this in detail. But in order to satisfy in part your desire to 
 know how the mind can discover all kinds of figures and come to 
 see this sensible world in the intelligible extension, note that you 
 can know a circle,éor example, in three ways. You may conceive 
 it, you may imagine it, you may feelorseeit. When you conceive 
 it, what happens is that intelligible extension applies itself to your 
 mind with limits which are indeterminate as far as their length 
 is concerned, but which are equally distant from a fixed point, 
 and all in the same plane; and then you have a conception of 
 a circle in general. When you imagine it, what happens is that 
 a determinate part of this extension, the limits of which are 
 
 t Cf. Dialogue XII. 
 
84 FIRST DIALOGUE 
 
 equally distant from a point, touches your mind lightly. Finally, 
 when you feel or see it, what happens is that a determinate 
 part of this extension touches your soul in sensuous fashion and 
 modifies it by a feeling of some colour. For intelligible extension 
 becomes visible, and can represent a particular body, only by 
 means of colour, since it is only by the differences in colour that 
 we can judge of the differences among the objects that we see. 
 All the intelligible parts of this intelligible extension are as ideas 
 the same in kind, just as all the parts of local or material exten- 
 sion are of the same nature viewed as substances. But the 
 sensations of colour being essentially different, we are enabled by 
 means of them to distinguish a variety of bodies. If I distinguish 
 your hand from your coat and both from the air which surrounds 
 them, I doso because the sensations which I have of them, whether 
 of colour or light, are very different. That is evident, for if I 
 had the same sensation of colour, in reference to all the objects 
 in your room, I should not become aware, by means of the sense 
 of sight, of any diversity of objects. Thus, you can see that 
 intelligible extension applied in different ways to our mind can 
 give us the ideas which we have of mathematical figures 
 as well as of all the objects which we admire in the universe, 
 and finally of all that our imagination presents to us. Just 
 as one can with the aid of a chisel make all sorts of figures in 
 a slab of marble, so God can present to us all material things 
 by means of diverse applications of intelligible extension to our 
 minds. How this is done, and why God does it, we shall 
 inquire in the sequel. 
 
 This will be sufficient, Aristes, for our first talk. Try to 
 get accustomed to metaphysical ideas and to raise yourself 
 above your senses. Here you are, unless I am mistaken, trans- 
 ported into an intelligible world. Contemplate its beauties. 
 Review in your mind all that I have just said. Partake of the 
 substance of truth and prepare to enter further into the un- 
 known land, which you have only just approached. To-morrow 
 I shall attempt to conduct you to the throne of the sovereign 
 Majesty to whom belongs from all eternity this glorious and 
 unchangeable world wherein our minds dwell. 
 
 ARISTES. I am _ still staggered and dumbfounded. My 
 
 t Cf. Recherche, Bk. III, Pt. II, and the further explanation in the 
 
 Eclaircissement. See also my Réponse au livre des vraies et des fausses 
 Idées of M. Arnauld and my First Letter in reply to his defence. 
 
ON METAPHYSICS 85 - 
 
 body weighs my mind down and I have difficulty in keeping 
 a firm hold upon the truths which you have revealed to me, and 
 yet you say you will take me still higher. I shall be quite giddy, 
 Theodore, and if I feel to-morrow as I do to-day, I shall not 
 have enough confidence to follow you. 
 
 THEODORE. Meditate, Aristes, on what I have just told you, 
 and to-morrow, I promise you, you will be ready for everything. 
 Meditation will strengthen your mind and will give you enthu- 
 siasm and endow you with wings wherewith to soar beyond 
 merely created things and ascend to the very presence of the 
 Creator. Adieu, my friend. Be of good courage. 
 
 ARISTES. Adieu, Theodore, I shall do all that you have just 
 directed me to do. 
 
SECOND DIALOGUE 
 
 THE, EXISTENCE: OF GOD 
 
 We see all things in God, and nothing finite is capable of representing Him— 
 Thus it is sufficient to think of Him to know that He exists. 
 
 THEODORE. Well, Aristes, what do you think of that intel- 
 ligible world into which I led you yesterday ? Does it still startle 
 your imagination ? Does your mind advance firmly and steadily 
 in the land of meditative spirits, in this region inaccessible to 
 those who listen only to their senses ? 
 
 ARISTES. What a beautiful spectacle is this archetype of 
 the universe, Theodore! I have been contemplating it with 
 much satisfaction. What an agreeable surprise it is for the 
 soul to find itself without suffering death transported into this 
 land of truth, where it discovers an abundance of nourishment. 
 Iam not yet, it is true, accustomed to this celestial manna, to 
 this nourishment which is all spiritual. At certain moments it 
 seems quite hollow and slight. But when I partake of it with 
 proper attention I find so much savour and solidity therein that I 
 can no longer think of feeding with the brutes in a material world. 
 
 THEODORE. Oh, my dear Aristes, what are you telling me ? 
 Are you speaking seriously ? 
 
 ARISTES. Quite seriously. I wish no longer to listen to 
 my senses. I wish always to enter into the innermost core of 
 my being and to live on the abundance which I find there. 
 My senses are adapted for leading my body to the ordinary 
 pastures. I am willing that it should follow them. But that 
 I should follow them, I myself! That I shall never do again. I 
 wish to follow Reason alone, and to step by the aid of my 
 attention into the land of truth, where I may find delicious 
 repasts, repasts which alone are fit nourishment for intelligent 
 beings. 
 
 THEODORE. You have, then, surely forgotten that you have 
 
 a body. But you will not be long without thinking of it, or rather 
 86 
 
ON METAPHYSICS 87 
 
 without thinking with reference to it. This body which you 
 neglect now will force you soon to obtain food for it and to 
 occupy yourself with its wants. For as yet the mind cannot 
 free itself so readily from matter. Yet now that your mind is 
 firm, tell me, pray, what you have discovered in this land of ideas. 
 Do you understand, now, what this Reason is, of which we speak 
 in the material and terrestrial world and of which we know so 
 little? I promised you yesterday to lead you beyond all 
 created things to the very presence of the Creator. Have you 
 not flown there by yourself and without thinking of Theodore ? 
 
 I. ArisTEs. Iconfess I did think that, without lacking in the 
 respect which I owe to you, I could go myself along the road 
 which you had shown me. I have followed it, and I have, it 
 seems to me, recognised clearly what you told me yesterday, 
 namely, that the universal Reason is eternal and that it has its 
 being in God alone. I will indicate the steps of the argument 
 in a few words. Judge, then, and tell me if I have gone astray. 
 
 After you left me I remained for some time in hesitation and 
 suspense. But, driven by a secret enthusiasm, I seemed to be 
 saying to myself, I do not know how: ‘“ Reason belongs to me 
 in common with Theodore ; why then can I not consult it and 
 follow it?’’ and it has led me, unless I am mistaken, up to Him 
 who possesses it as His own, and by the necessity of His being ; 
 for it seems to lead there quite naturally. Here, then, is the 
 argument in simple and non-figurative language: 
 
 Infinite intelligible extension is not a modification of my 
 _mind. It is immutable, eternal, necessary. I cannot doubt its 
 reality or immensity. But nothing that is immutable, eternal, 
 necessary, and, above all, infinite is.a_created thing, nor can it 
 belong to.a created thing. Hence it belongs to the Creator and 
 can be only in God. Hence there is.a God, and a Reason, a 
 God in whom there is the archetype which I contemplate of the 
 created world which I inhabit—a God in whom there is that 
 Reason which illumines me by means of the purely intellectual 
 ideas which it furnishes in abundance to my mind and to 
 the minds of all men. For I am sure that all men are 
 united with the same Reason as I am, and since I am certain 
 that they see or can see what I see when I enter into myself and 
 when I discover therein the truth or necessary relations which 
 are contained in the intelligible substance of the universal 
 
Kg SECOND DIALOGUE 
 
 Reason which dwells in me, or rather in which all intelligences 
 dwell. 
 
 II. THEODORE. You have not been led astray, my dear 
 Aristes. You have followed reason, and it has led you to Him 
 who engendered it out of His own substance and who possesses 
 it throughout all eternity. But do not imagine that it has 
 disclosed to you the nature of that supreme Being to whom it 
 has led you. ® When you contemplate intelligible extension you 
 only see as yet the archetype of the material world which we 
 inhabit and that of an infinity of other possible worlds. You 
 do in truth see the divine Substance, for it alone is visible, it 
 alone can illumine the mind. Yet you do not see it in itself or 
 asitreallyis. You only see it in its relation to material creations, 
 you only see it so far as they participate in it, or in so far as it 
 is representative of them. Consequently it is not, strictly speak- 
 ing, God Himself that you see, but only the matter which He 
 can produce. ® 
 
 You certainly see, by means of the infinite intelligible extension, 
 that God is. For He alone can possess all that you see, since 
 nothing finite can contain an infinite reality. But you do not 
 see what God is. For there is no limit to the Divine perfections, 
 and that which you see when you think of immense spaces is 
 lacking in an infinity of perfections. I say ‘‘ that which you 
 see,’ not the substance which represents to you what you see 
 For this substance, which you do not see in itself, has infinite 
 perfections. 
 
 Assuredly, the substance which contains this intelligible 
 extension is all-powerful. It is infinitely wise. It includes an 
 infinity of perfections and realities. It includes, for example, an 
 infinity of intelligible numbers. But the intelligible extension has 
 nothing in common with all these things. There is no wisdom, 
 power or unity in all this extension which you contemplate. 
 For you know that all numbers are commensurable among 
 themselves, since they have unity for a common measure. If, 
 then, the parts of extension divided and subdivided by the 
 mind can be reduced to unity, they will always be commensurable 
 amongst themselves by this unity, which as you know is certainly 
 not the case. Thus the divine Substance in that simplicity to 
 which we cannot attain contains an infinity of quite different intel- 
 ligible perfections by means of which God illumines us without 
 
a 
 - 
 Aes 
 
 [aaa 
 
 c 
 
 ON METAPHYSICS 89 
 
 allowing Himself to be seen as He is, or in His individual and 
 absolute reality, but merely in His reality which is general and 
 relative to possible created beings. Nevertheless, try to follow 
 me. I will try to lead you as near as possible to the Divine. 
 
 ‘II. The infinite intelligible extension is only the archetype of 
 an infinity of possible worlds similar to our own. By means 
 of it I only see certain determinate beings—material things. 
 When I think of this extension I do not see the divine Substance, 
 except in so far as it is representative of bodies and is participated 
 in by them. But now, when I think of Being, and not of deter- 
 minate beings, when I think of the Infinite, and not of such and 
 such an infinite, it is certain, in the first place, that I do not see 
 such a vast reality in the modifications of my mind. For if I 
 cannot find in these modifications sufficient reality to enable me to 
 represent to myself an infinity in extension, a fortiori I cannot 
 find in it sufficient reality for representing to myself what is 
 infinite in every way. Thus, it is only God, the Infinite, the 
 Unlimited, it is only the Infinite infinitely infinite who can 
 comprise the infinitely infinite reality which I see when I think 
 of Being, and not of such and such beings or of such and 
 such infinities. 
 
 IV. In the second place, it is certain that the idea of Being, 
 of reality, of unlimited perfection, or of the infinite in every way, 
 is not the divine substance in so far as it is representative of such 
 and such a created thing or is participated in by such and such 
 a created thing. For every created thing is necessarily a definite 
 being. It is a contradiction that God should make or create a 
 Being in general or one Infinite in every way which should not 
 be God Himself, or should not be equal to His own principle. The 
 Son or the Holy Spirit do not merely share in the divine Being. 
 They receive Him in His entirety, or, to speak of things 
 more within the reach of our minds, it is clear that our idea of 
 a circle in general is only the idea of intelligible extension in so 
 far as it represents a certain circle or is shared in by a certain 
 circle. For the idea of a circle in general, or of the essence of a 
 circle, represents infinite circles, is adapted to infinite circles. 
 This idea comprises the idea of the infinite. For to think of a 
 circle in general is to think of an infinite number of circles as a 
 single circle. I do not know whether you follow what I wish 
 to make you understand. Here it is in two words. The idea 
 
90 SECOND DIALOGUE 
 
 of Being without restrictions, of the infinite, of the general, is not 
 the idea of created things, or of the essences of created things, but 
 the idea which represents the Divine or the essence of the Divine. 
 All particular beings participate in Being, but no particular being 
 can equal it. Being comprises all things, but all beings created 
 or possible, in all their manifold variety, cannot exhaust the 
 immense extension of Being. 
 
 ARISTES. It seems to me, I can see your meaning. You 
 define God as He defined Himself in speaking to Moses, ‘‘ God is 
 that which is.”’! Intelligible extension is the idea or archetype 
 of bodies. But the being without restrictions, in a word, Being, 
 is the idea of God; it is that which represents Him to our minds 
 as we see Him in this life. 
 
 V. THEODORE. Very good. But above all you must note 
 that God or the Infinite is not visible by an idea representative 
 of Him. The Infinite is its own idea. It has no Archetype. It. 
 can be known, but it cannot be constructed. Only created things, 
 only determinate beings, can be constructed, or can be visible 
 through ideas which represent them even before they are produced. 
 We can see a circle, a house, a sun, though they may not actually 
 exist. For all that is finite can be seen in the Infinite, which 
 comprises all intelligible ideas of the finite. The Infinite, on the 
 other hand, can be seen only in itself, for nothing finite can_repre- 
 sent the Infinite. If we think of God, it follows that.He exists. 
 A finite being, though known, may not exist. We can see its 
 essence without its existence, its idea without itself. But we 
 cannot see the essence of the Infinite without its existence, or 
 the idea of Being without Being. For Being can have no idea 
 representative of it. There is no archetype which could comprise 
 all its intelligible reality. The Infinite is its own archetype, and 
 contains within itself the archetype of all beings. 
 
 Thus, you see that the proposition, ‘there is a God,” is in 
 itself the clearest of all existential propositions, and that it is 
 even as certain as the proposition, “‘ 1 think, therefore I am.” 
 You see, moreover, what is meant by God, for God, Being, and 
 the Infinite, are one and the same. 
 
 VI. But, once more, make no mistake about this matter. 
 You see only confusedly and as from a distance what God is. 
 You do not see Him as He is, because, though you see the Infinite 
 
 t Exod. iii. 14. 
 
ON METAPHYSICS 91 
 
 or Being without restriction, you only see it in a very imper- 
 fect manner. You do not see it as a single being. You see a 
 multiplicity of created things in the infinity of uncreated Being, 
 but you do not see its unity distinctly. For you cannot see it 
 so much in its absolute reality as in the reality which attaches 
 to it in its relation to possible created things, the number of 
 which it could increase indefinitely without their ever equalling 
 the reality which represents them. You see it as the universal 
 Reason which illumines all intelligences according to the measure 
 of light necessary for their guidance, and for revealing as much 
 of His perfections as can be shared in by limited beings. But 
 you do not discover the property which is essential to the Infinite, 
 that, namely, of being at the same time one and many, composed, 
 so to speak, of an infinity of different perfections, and yet so 
 simple that in it each perfection comprises all the others 
 without any real distinction.! 
 
 God does not communicate His substance to any of His 
 creatures ; He only communicates to them His perfections ; not 
 as they are in His substance, but in so far as His substance is repre- 
 sentative of them, and in accordance with the limitations bound 
 up with the nature of created things. Intelligible extension, for 
 instance, represents bodies; it is their archetype or their idea. 
 But, although this extension occupies no place, bodies are and 
 must be locally extended because of the limitations essential to all 
 finite created things, and because no finite created thing can have 
 this property or character, incomprehensible to the human mind, 
 of being at the same time one thing and all things, of being at 
 the same time perfectly simple and yet in possession of all sorts 
 of perfections. 
 
 Thus, intelligible extension represents infinite spaces, but 
 it does not fill any; and although it fills, so to speak, all 
 minds and discloses itself to them, it follows in no way that our 
 mind is spatial. If our mind could only see infinite spaces through 
 local conjunction with locally extended spaces, then, in order to 
 see infinite spaces, it would itself have to be infinitely extended. 
 
 The divine Substance is everywhere, without being extended 
 locally. It has no limits. It is not contained in the universe. 
 But it is not this Substance as expanded everywhere that we see 
 when we think of spaces. For were this the case our mind, 
 
 * Cf. Premiéve lettre touchant la Défense de M. Avnauld, Note 18. 
 * Ibid., second and eleven following notes. 
 
92 SECOND DIALOGUE 
 
 being finite, would never be able to think of infinite spaces. Yet 
 the intelligible extension, which we see in the divine Substance 
 which comprises it, is this Substance only in so far as it is repre- 
 sentative of material beings and participated in by them. This 
 is all I can tell you. But observe, that this Being without 
 restriction, or the Infinite in every way which we think of, is not 
 merely the divine Substance in so far as it is representative of 
 all possible beings ; for, though we have no detailed ideas of all 
 these beings, we are yet assured that they cannot equal or exhaust 
 the intelligible reality of the Infinite. In a sense, then, it is the 
 divine Substance of God that we see. But in this life we only 
 see it in a way so confused and distant, that we see rather that 
 it is than what it is; we see rather that it is the source and 
 archetype of all being than its own nature or its perfections in 
 themselves. 
 
 ARISTES. Is there not a contradiction in what you are saying ? 
 If nothing finite can have enough reality to represent the Infinite 
 (and this appears evident), does it not necessarily follow that 
 we see the divine Substance in itself ? 
 
 VII. THEoDoRE. I do not deny that we see the divine 
 Substance in itself. We see it in itself in this sense that we do 
 not see it through any finite thing representing it. But we do 
 not see it in itself in the sense that we can reach its simplicity or 
 discover its perfections. 
 
 Since you agree that nothing finite can represent the Infinite, 
 it is clear that if you see the Infinite you can only see it in itself. 
 But it is certain that you do see it ; for otherwise when you ask 
 me whether there is a God or an Infinite Being, you would be 
 asking a ridiculous question, by means of a proposition the terms 
 of which you do not understand. It would be just as if you 
 were to ask me whether there is a Blictri,? that is to say, a 
 particular thing without knowing what thing. 
 
 Assuredly, all men have the idea of God or are thinking of 
 the Infinite when they ask whether He exists. But they believe 
 they could think of Him though He did not really exist, for they 
 do not realise that nothing finite can represent Him. As they can 
 think of several things which do not exist because created things 
 can be seen though they do not exist, since they are not seen in 
 themselves, but in the ideas which represent them, they imagine 
 
 1 Ibid., and Dialogue VIII. 2 A nonsense word. 
 
ON METAPHYSICS 93 
 
 that it is the same in the case of the Infinite, and that He could 
 be thought of though He doesnot exist. This is the reason which 
 makes them seek, without recognising Him whom they encounter 
 at all moments, and whom they would recognise soon enough 
 if they entered into themselves and reflected on their ideas. 
 
 ARISTES. You convince me, Theodore, but there still remains 
 some doubt. It seems to me that the idea which I have of Being 
 in general or of the Infinite is an idea of my own workmanship. 
 It seems to me that the mind can make general ideas out ofv 
 several particular ideas. When one has seen several trees, an 
 apple-tree, a pear-tree, a plum-tree, etc., one gets the general 
 idea of a tree. In the same way, when one has seen several 
 beings, one forms the general idea of Being. Hence this general 
 idea of Being is only a confused assemblage of all the others. 
 Thus I have been taught and thus I have always understood 
 the matter. 
 
 VIII. THEODORE. Your mind, Aristes, is a marvellous worker. 
 It can extract the Infinite from the finite, the idea of Being without 
 restriction from the ideas of particular beings. Perhaps it 
 finds in the wealth of its own supply sufficient reality to give to 
 finite ideas that which they want in order to be infinite. I do 
 not know whether this is what you have been taught, but I 
 believe I do know that you have never comprehended it. 
 
 ARISTES. If our ideas were infinite, assuredly they would 
 not be products of our work nor modifications of our mind. 
 That cannot be disputed. But perhaps they are finite, though 
 through them we can think of the Infinite. Or perhaps the 
 Infinite which we see is not really infinite. It may be, as I have 
 just said, a confused conglomeration of several finite things. 
 The general idea of Being is perhaps only a confused mass 
 of particular beings. I have some difficulty in ridding my 
 mind of this thought. 
 
 IX. THEODORE. Yes, Aristes, our ideas are finite, if by our 
 ideas you understand our perceptions or the modifications of 
 our minds. But if you understand by the idea of the Infinite 
 that which the mind sees when it thinks of it, or that which is 
 then the immediate object of the mind, assuredly that is infinite, 
 for it is seen as such. Note, I say it is seen as such. The im- 
 pression which the Infinite makes on the mind is finite. There 
 is even more perception in the mind, and the idea makes a 
 
94 SECOND DIALOGUE 
 
 greater impression, in a word, there is more thought, when we 
 know a small object clearly and distinctly, than when we think 
 confusedly of a big object or even of the Infinite. But, though 
 the mind is nearly always more affected, penetrated, modified 
 by a finite idea than by an infinite one, there is nevertheless more 
 reality in the infinite idea than in the finite one, more reality in 
 Being without restriction than in any finite being youcould mention. 
 
 You cannot rid your mind of the thought that general ideas 
 are no more than a confused collection of certain particular ideas, 
 or at least of the thought that you have the power to form them 
 out of this collective whole. Let us see how much truth and 
 how much falsehood there is in this thought for which you show 
 so strong a bias. You think, Aristes, now ofa circle with a diameter 
 of one foot, then of one whose diameter is two feet, three feet, 
 four feet, etc., and finally you do not determine the length of the 
 diameter at all, and you think of a circle in general. The idea 
 of this circle in general, you would say, is the confused collection of 
 the circles of which you have thought. This conclusion is certainly 
 false. For the idea of a circle in general represents infinite circles 
 and is applicable to them all, and you have only thought of a 
 finite number of circles. What happens must rather be that 
 you have discovered the secret of forming the idea of a circle in 
 general out of five or six circles that you have seen, and this is true 
 in one sense and false in another. It is false if you mean that 
 there is enough reality in the idea of five or six circles to form the 
 idea of a circle in general. But it is true in the sense that after 
 having recognised that the magnitude of the circles does not change 
 their properties, you have perhaps ceased to consider them 
 one after another as having a determinate magnitude in order 
 to consider in general only an indeterminate magnitude. Thus 
 you have, so to speak, formed the idea of a circle in general by 
 spreading the idea of generality over the confused ideas 
 of the circles which you have imagined. Yet I submit to 
 you that you can form general ideas at all only because you 
 find in the idea of Infinity enough reality to give generality to 
 your ideas. You can think of an indeterminate diameter only 
 because you see the infinite in extension and because you can 
 increase or diminish it ad infinitum. I submit to you that you 
 could never think of the abstract forms of genera and species, 
 if the idea of the Infinite which is inseparable from your mind 
 did not naturally become united with the particular idea of which 
 
ON METAPHYSICS 95 
 
 you are aware. You could think of a definite circle, but 
 not of a circle in general. You could become aware of a certain 
 definite equality between radii but not of a general equality 
 between indeterminate radii. 
 
 The reason is that no finite and determinate idea can ever 
 represent anything infinite orindeterminate. The mind, however, 
 without any reflection adds to its finite ideas the idea of gener- 
 ality which it finds in the Infinite. For just as the mind spreads 
 over the idea of a definite extension, though it be divisible ad 
 infimitum, the idea of indivisible unity, so it spreads over certain 
 particularideas the general idea of perfect equality. And itis this 
 which leads the mind into an infinite number of errors. For 
 all the falsity of our ideas has its source in the fact that we confuse 
 them one with another and further with our own mental modifica- 
 tions. But of this we shall speak on another occasion. 
 
 ARISTES. What you say is all very well, Theodore. But, are 
 you not looking upon ideas as entirely distinct from our percep- 
 tions ? It seems tome that the idea of a circle in general is only a 
 confused perception of several circles of varied size, in other words, 
 a collection of diverse, rather indistinct mental modifications, each 
 of which is the idea or the perception of a certain circle. 
 
 X. THEODORE. Yes, without doubt,! I think there is a good 
 deal of difference between our ideas and our perceptions, between 
 ourselves who are aware and that of which we are aware. For 
 I know that the finite cannot find within itself that whereby 
 to represent the Infinite. I know that I do not possess within 
 myself any intelligible reality, and that so far from finding in my 
 own substance the idea of all things I cannot even find therein 
 the idea of my own being. For I am entirely unintelligible to 
 myself, and I can never see what I am except when it pleases 
 God to disclose to me the idea or archetype of minds which is 
 comprised in the universal Reason. But of this we shall speak 
 on another occasion.? 
 
 Assuredly, Aristes, if your ideas were only modifications of 
 your mind, the confused collection of thousands upon thousands 
 of ideas would only yield a confused complex, incapable of any 
 generality. Take twenty colours, mix them together so as to 
 excite in you a sensation of a colouringeneral. At the same time 
 
 t Cf. Réponse au lurve des Vraies et des Fausses Idées. 
 2 Cf. Recherche, Bk. III, Pt. II, Ch. VII. 
 
96 SECOND DIALOGUE 
 
 produce within yourself several different feelings or sensations 
 so as to form a sensation or feeling in general. You will soon 
 see that this is impossible. For in mixing diverse colours you 
 turn green, grey, blue into what is after all always some particular 
 colour. Dizziness is but a confused agglomeration of sensations 
 or modifications of the soul; yet it is after all a particular feeling 
 orsensation. This is so because every modification of a particular 
 being and of our mind cannot but be particular. It can never 
 rise to the generality which ideas possess. It is true you can think 
 of pain in general, but your mind could never be modified except 
 by a particular pain. And if you can think of pain in general, 
 it is because you can add generality to all things. But, now, 
 you could not obtain this idea of generality from the resources 
 of yourown mind. It has too much reality. It follows, therefore, 
 that the Infinite Mind must furnish you with it out of its own 
 abundance. 
 
 ARISTES. I have nothing to say in reply. All that you are 
 telling me seems to be evident, but I am surprised that these 
 general ideas, which have infinitely more reality than particular 
 ideas, should affect or touch me less than these latter, and 
 should appear to me to have much less solidity. 
 
 XI. THEODORE. Thatisso because they make themselves felt 
 in a less degree, or rather because they do not make themselves 
 felt at all. Do not judge, Aristes, of the reality of ideas in the 
 way children judge of the reality of bodies. Children think that 
 the space between the earth and the sky is not real because it does 
 not make itself felt. And there are few people who discern that 
 there is just as much matter in a cubic foot of air as in a cubic 
 foot of lead, because lead is harder, heavier, in a word, more 
 capable of affecting the senses than air. Do not follow their 
 example. Judge the reality of ideas not by the feelings which you 
 have of them, which indicate their action upon you in a confused 
 manner, but by the light of intelligence which reveals their 
 nature to you. Otherwise you will think that the ideas which 
 are sensed and those which affect you, as, for example, the idea 
 which you have of the floor which you press with your foot, 
 have more reality than the purely intelligible ideas, though at 
 bottom there is no difference. 
 
 ARISTES. No difference, Theodore? Do you mean to assert 
 that the idea of extension of which I think is not different from 
 
ON METAPHYSICS 97 
 
 the idea of the extension which I see, which I press with my 
 foot, which offers resistance ? 
 
 XII. THEODORE. No, Aristes, there are not two kinds of 
 extension, nor two kinds of ideas representative of them. And 
 if this extension of which you think were to touch you or to 
 modify your soul affectively, intelligible though it be, it would 
 appear to you sensible. It would appear to you hard, cold, 
 coloured, and perhaps painful, for you would perhaps attribute 
 to it all the feelings which you would have. Once more, we 
 must not judge of things by the feelings which we have of them. 
 We must not think that ice has more reality than water because 
 it exhibits a greater resistance. 
 
 If you believed that fire had more force or efficiency than 
 earth, your mistake would have some justification. For there 
 is some reason for judging of the magnitude of forces by that of 
 their effects. But to believe that the idea of extension which 
 affects you through some feeling is of another nature, or has more 
 reality, than the extension of which you think, without having 
 a sensible impression of it, is to take the absolute for the relative, 
 or to judge of the nature of things as they are in themselves 
 through the relation in which they stand to us. Along ‘that 
 line we should ascribe more reality to the point of a thorn 
 than to all the rest of the universe, or even to the infinite 
 Being. When you get accustomed to distinguishing your feel- 
 ings from your ideas, you will recognise that the same idea of 
 extension can be known, imagined, felt, according to the various 
 ways in which the divine Substance which comprises it applies 
 it to your mind. Do not believe then that the Infinite, or Being 
 in general, has less reality than the idea of a definite object which 
 is affecting you at the moment in a very vivid and sensible fashion. 
 Judge of things by the ideas which represent them, and do not 
 attribute to them anything that resembles the feelings that affect 
 you. Later you will understand more clearly what at present 
 I am merely indicating in outline. 
 
 ArIsTEs. All that you have just told me, Theodore, is fear- 
 fully abstract, and I have difficulty in keeping a firm hold upon 
 it. My mind is strangely overstrained ; a little repose, if you 
 please. I must think over all these great and sublime truths 
 at my leisure. I will endeavour to make myself familiar with 
 them by the difficult effort of pure attention. But at present 
 
 7 
 
98 SECOND DIALOGUE 
 
 I am not capable of such an effort. I must have rest in order 
 to recoup my strength. 
 
 THEODORE. I knew quite well, Aristes, that you could not 
 keep your mind clear forlong. Go, lead your body to the pasture 
 ground. Refresh your imagination with a variety of reassuring 
 and pleasing things. But try nevertheless to retain some taste 
 for truth, and as soon as you feel yourself capable of nourish- 
 ing yourself with it and of meditating upon it, leave all else for 
 its sake. Forget even what you are as much as possible. You 
 needs must attend to the wants of the body, but it is a great 
 mistake to occupy yourself with its pleasures. 
 
THIRD DIALOGUE 
 
 The difference between our feelings and our ideas—We must judge of things 
 only by the ideas which are representative of them, and not by the 
 feelings by which we are affected through their presence or on their 
 occasion. 
 
 THEODORE. Hallo, Aristes! How dreamy you look! What 
 is it you are thinking of so deeply? 
 
 ArisTES. Who is it? Ah, Theodore, you have taken me by 
 surprise. I am returning from that other world into which 
 you have led me of late. I go there now all alone and without 
 fearing the phantoms which bar the entrance. But, once there, 
 I find so many obscure places that I am afraid I shall be led 
 astray and get lost. 
 
 I. THEODORE. It is much, Aristes, to be able to leave one’s 
 body when one wishes and to raise oneself in spirit into the 
 land of intelligence. But it is not sufficient. It is necessary 
 to know the map of the country a little, to know which are the 
 places which are inaccessible to poor mortals, and which are the 
 places where they may go freely, without fearing any illusions. 
 It is, it seems to me, through not having paid heed to what I 
 have just indicated that most of the travellers in these dangerous 
 realms have been misled by certain attractive appearances 
 which lead us to those precipices, from which to return is 
 morally impossible. Listen to me seriously. I am going to tell 
 you to-day what you ought never to forget. 
 
 Never take your own feelings, Aristes, for our ideas, the 
 modifications which affect your soul for the ideas which illumine 
 all minds. This is the most important of all precepts for the 
 avoidance of error. You can never contemplate any idea without 
 discovering some truth, but whatever attention you pay to 
 
 the modifications of your own mind, you will never be illumined 
 99 
 
100 THIRD DIALOGUE 
 
 by them. You cannot quite understand what I am saying; a 
 little further explanation is necessary. 
 
 II. You know, Aristes, that the Divine Word, as the universal 
 Reason, comprises within its substance the primordial ideas of all 
 beings, created or possible. You know that all the intelligences 
 which are united with this sovereign Reason discover therein 
 some of these ideas, according as it pleases God to manifest 
 such ideas to them. This happens in consequence of the 
 general laws which He has established in order to make us rational 
 and in order to form among ourselves, and with Him, a kind 
 of society. Some day I will unravel this mystery for you. 
 You do not doubt, for example, that intelligible extension, which 
 is the primordial idea or the archetype of bodies, is comprised 
 in the universal Reason which illumines all minds, and even 
 that mind with which this Reason is consubstantial. But 
 perhaps you have not reflected sufficiently on the difference 
 which subsists between the intelligible ideas which it contains 
 and our own feelings, or the modifications of our soul, or you 
 believe perhaps that it is not important to notice in what 
 exactly this difference consists. 
 
 III. What a difference there is, my dear Aristes, between 
 the light of our ideas and the obscurity of our feelings, between 
 knowing and sentience, and how necessary it is to become accus- 
 tomed to distinguish them without difficulty! He who has not 
 reflected sufficiently upon this difference, always believing that 
 he knows quite clearly what he feels most vividly, cannot but 
 be led astray in the darkness of his own states of mind. For, 
 note carefully this important truth. Man cannot be to him- 
 self his own light. His substance, far from enlightening him, is 
 itself unintelligible to him. He knows nothing except by the 
 light of reason, by which I mean the universal Reason which 
 enlightens all minds by the intelligible ideas which it reveals to 
 them in its ever luminous substance. 
 
 IV. Created reason, our soul, the human mind, the purest 
 and sublimest intelligences, can see the light, but they cannot 
 produce it or extract it from their own being; they cannot 
 engender it from their own substance. They can discover eternal, 
 
ON METAPHYSICS 101 
 
 immutable, necessary truths in the Divine Word, in the eternal, 
 immutable and necessary Wisdom. But in themselves they 
 can find nothing but feelings, which, though often very vivid, 
 are always obscure and confused, nothing but states of mind 
 full of darkness. In a word, they cannot discover truth by 
 contemplating themselves. They cannot feed on their own 
 substance. They can only find the life of intelligence in the 
 universal Reason which animates all minds. 
 
 ARISTES. I am quite convinced, Theodore, by reflection on 
 what you have been telling me during the last few days, that it is the 
 Divine Word alone which enlightens us by means of the intelligible 
 ideas which it contains. For there are not two or more Wisdoms, 
 two or more universal Reasons. Truth is immutable, necessary, 
 eternal, the same in time and in eternity, the same in us and 
 in strangers, the same in heaven and hell. The eternal Word 
 speaks the same language to all nations, to the Chinese and Tartars 
 as to the French and Spaniards; and if they are not all equally 
 enlightened, it is because they are not equally attentive, it is 
 because they confuse, in varied degrees, the particular impulses 
 of their self-love with the general responses of inner truth. 
 Twice two are four for all peoples. All understand the voice 
 of truth which bids us not to do to others that which we do not 
 wish to be done to ourselves. And those who do not obey this 
 voice feel inner reproaches threatening them and punishing 
 them for their disobedience, provided they enter into themselves 
 and listen to reason. I am now well convinced of these 
 principles, but I do not yet fully understand the difference 
 between knowing and sentience or feeling which you think so 
 necessary for the avoidance of error. Pray explain it to me. 
 
 V. THEODORE. If you had meditated carefully upon the 
 principles of which you say you are convinced, you would see 
 clearly what you ask me to explain. But without setting out 
 upon a road too difficult to follow, pray answer this question; 
 Do you think that God feels the pain which we suffer ? 
 
 ARISTES. No, without a doubt, for the feeling of pain brings 
 unhappiness with it. 
 
 THEODORE. Very well; but do you believe that He is aware 
 of it ? 
 
 ARISTES. Yes, I believe so. For He knows all that befalls 
 His creatures God’s knowledge has no limits, and the know- 
 
102 THIRD DIALOGUE 
 
 ledge of my pain does not make Him either unhappy or 
 imperfect. On the contrary... 
 
 THEODORE, Oh, oh, Aristes! God is aware of pain, pleasure, 
 heat and the rest, and He does not feel them! He is aware of 
 pain because He knows the nature of that modification of the 
 soul in which pain consists. He is aware of it, because it is He 
 Himself who causes it in us, as I shall show you in the sequel, 
 and because He knows well what He does. In a word, He is 
 aware of it because His knowledge has no limits. But He does 
 not feel it, for that would make Him unhappy. To know pain, 
 then, is not to feel it. | 
 
 ARISTES. Thatis true. But is not a feeling of pain what is 
 meant by a knowledge of it ? 
 
 VI. THEODORE. No, without a doubt, since God never 
 feels it, and yet He knows it perfectly. But in order not to 
 waste time on merely verbal distinctions, you must admit, even 
 if you think that to feel pain is to know it, that the knowledge 
 involved is not a clear knowledge, not a knowledge based on 
 light and reason. In other words, it is not a knowledge of its 
 nature, so that, strictly speaking, it is not knowledge. To feel 
 pain, for example, is to feel oneself unhappy without knowing 
 either what one is, or what modification of our being it is, which 
 renders us unhappy. But knowledge implies that we have a 
 clear idea of the nature of the object and can discover definite 
 relations in it by means of reason and evidence. 
 
 I know clearly the parts of extension because I can plainly 
 see the relations between them. I see clearly that similar 
 triangles have their sides proportional, and that there is no 
 triangle whose three angles do not equal two right angles. I 
 see these truths or relations clearly in the idea or archetype of 
 extension, for this idea is so luminous that it is to a con- 
 templation of it we owe our geometricians and physicists ; 
 and it is so fruitful of truths that not even all minds in 
 conjunction will ever exhaust it. 
 
 VII. This is not the case with my own being. Of it I have 
 no idea; of it I do not see the archetype. I cannot discover the 
 relations of the modifications which affect my mind. I cannot by 
 turning into or towards myself decipher the nature of any of my 
 faculties or capacities. The inner feeling which I have of my- 
 self teaches me that I am, that I think, will, feel, suffer, etc.; 
 
ON METAPHYSICS 103 
 
 but it does not enable me to know what I am, or what is the 
 nature of my thought, my will, my feelings, my passions, my pain, 
 or what are the relations which subsist among these things ; 
 because, having no idea of my soul, not seeing its archetype 
 in the Divine Word, I can discover, through contemplation of it, 
 neither what it is nor the modifications of which it is capable, 
 nor the relations which subsist between these modifications— 
 relations which I feel vividly, though I do not know them. All 
 this is clear enough, Aristes, because, as I have already told you, 
 I cannot be a light to myself, because my substance and its modes 
 are enveloped in obscurity, and because, for several reasons, 
 God has not found it fit to reveal to me the idea or archetype 
 representative of the nature of spiritual beings. For, if my 
 substance were intelligible through or in itself, if it were luminous, 
 if it could enlighten me, as I am not separate from myself, I could 
 certainly see, by contemplating myself, that I am capable of 
 being affected by certain feelings which I have never experi- 
 enced and of which I shall never perhaps have any knowledge. 
 I should not need a concert in order to know the sweetness 
 of harmony; and, though I had never tasted a certain fruit, I 
 could, I do not say feel, but know, clearly, the nature of the 
 feeling which it would excite in me. But, as we can only know 
 the nature of things in that Reason which contains them in an 
 intelligible manner, it follows that though I can feel myself in 
 myself, it is only in the divine Reason that I could discover what I 
 am and what the modifications are of which I am capable, 
 and a fortiori it is in that Reason alone, that I could discover 
 the principles of the sciences and all the truths capable of 
 elucidating the nature of the mind. 
 
 ARISTES. Let us moveon alittle further, Theodore. I believe 
 that there are essential differences between knowing and feeling, 
 between ideas which enlighten the mind and feelings which affect 
 it, and I agree that though I can feel myself in myself, yet I 
 cannot know what I am as in that Reason which contains the 
 archetype of my being and the intelligible ideas of all things. 
 
 VIII. THEopoRE. Very well, Aristes. You are now ready 
 to make thousands upon thousands of discoveries in the realm 
 of truth. Distinguish our ideas from your feelings, but dis- 
 tinguish them clearly. Once again, distinguish them clearly, and 
 all the enticing phantoms of which I have spoken to you will no 
 
104 THIRD DIALOGUE 
 
 longer Jead you into error. Lift yourself always above yourself. 
 The modifications of your mind are full of obscurity, bear this fact 
 in view. Ascend higher and higher to Reason, and you will see 
 the light. Silence your senses, your imagination, your passions, 
 and you will hear the pure voice of inner truth, the clear and 
 evident responses of our common Master. Do not confuse the 
 evidence furnished by a comparison of ideas, with the vivacity 
 of the feelings which affect or disturb you. The more vivid our 
 feelings are, the more obscurity do they cause. The more terrible 
 or agreeable our images are, the more they appear to have 
 body and reality, the more dangerous are they, and the more 
 likely to mislead us. Disperse them or distrust them. In a 
 word, avoid all that touches or affects you, and hasten to attach 
 yourself to all that enlightens you. We must follow reason 
 despite the enticements, the menaces, the insults of the body, 
 with which we are united, despite the action of the objects of 
 our environment. Do you understand all this quite clearly ? 
 Are you convinced by the reasons which I have given you and 
 by your own reflections ? 
 
 ARISTES. Your exhortations, Theodore, appear to me rather 
 heated for a discussion on metaphysics. It seems to me that 
 you are exciting feelings in me, instead of engendering in me 
 clear ideas. I use your language. But really I understand none 
 too well all that you have told me. Now I see it, and a moment 
 after I see it no longer. That is because as yet I can only 
 half see it. It seems to me that you are right, but I do not 
 understand you thoroughly. | 
 
 IX. THEODORE. Ah, my dear Aristes, your reply is yet 
 another proof of what we have just been saying. There is no harm 
 in your reflecting upon it. I tell you what I see, and you do not 
 see it. This proves that man cannot instruct man. And that is 
 so because I am not your master or your teacher. Iam only a 
 monitor, emphatic perhaps, but not precise and little understood. 
 I talk into your ear. To all appearances I produce noise enough. 
 But our only Master does not as yet speak clearly enough to your 
 mind; or rather, reason speaks to it incessantly, quite clearly, 
 but through lack of attention you do not hear sufficiently well 
 what it tells. I was under the impression, however, both on 
 account of the things you have just told me, and on account of 
 those which I have told you myself, that you understood 
 
ON METAPHYSICS 105 
 
 sufficiently both my principle and the conclusions that must 
 be drawn therefrom. But I see now that it is not enough for 
 me to give you general considerations based upon abstract and 
 metaphysical ideas. I must in addition furnish some detailed 
 proofs of the necessity of these general considerations. 
 
 I have asked you to accustom yourself to recognising with- 
 out difficulty the difference between knowing and feeling, 
 between our clear ideas and our ever obscure and confused 
 feelings. And I submit to you that this alone is sufficient to 
 enable us to discover an infinity of truths. I do so on the ground 
 that Reason alone can enlighten us, that we cannot be a light 
 to ourselves, nor can any intelligence be a light to any other. 
 You will see clearly whether this argument is satisfactory when, 
 no longer listening to me, you come, in your own room, attentively 
 to consult inner truth. But in order to facilitate the understanding 
 of my principle and to make you see its necessity, and the con- 
 sequences that follow from it, I will ask you to answer me. You 
 are expert in music, for I have often seen you playing musical 
 instruments in a very efficient and masterly manner. 
 
 ARISTES. I have skill enough to charm away annoyance and 
 to banish melancholy. 
 
 X. THEODORE. Very well. Would you explain to me, pray, 
 the nature of those sounds which you combine in so exact and 
 pleasant a manner? What is an octave, a fifth and a fourth? 
 How does it come about that when two strings are in unison, 
 you cannot touch one without setting the other in vibration ? 
 You have a very fine and delicate ear. Consult it, so that it may 
 teach you what I wish to learn from you. 
 
 ARISTES. Surely you are making fun of me. It is reason 
 and not the senses which must be consulted. 
 
 THEODORE. That is true. The senses have to be consulted 
 only as regards the facts. Their power is very limited, but 
 reason reaches all things. Consult it, then, and beware of con- 
 fusing its deliverances with the testimony of your senses. Well, 
 what does it reply ? 
 
 ARISTES. You are hurrying me too much. Still, it seems to 
 me that sound is a quality propagated in the air capable of 
 affecting only the sense of hearing; for each sense has its own 
 peculiar object. 
 
 THEODORE. Is that what you call consulting reason ? 
 
106 THIRD DIALOGUE 
 
 ARISTES. What do you wish me to tell you? Wait, here is 
 an octave—La-la. Here is a fifth—Doh-soh. Here is a fourth— 
 Doh-fa. 
 
 THEODORE. You sing well, but how badly you reason! 
 It strikes me you wish to have a little recreation. 
 
 ARISTES. Certainly, Theodore. But, as to your other question, 
 I say it is through sympathy that strings of the same sound set 
 one another in vibration. Have I not answered well ? 
 
 THEODORE. Let us speak seriously, Aristes. If you wish to 
 entertain me, try to instruct me. 
 
 ArIsTEs. I shall do nothing of the kind, with your per- 
 mission. Do your part, and leave me to do mine. My part is 
 to listen. 
 
 THEODORE. That is very nice and agreeable of you, Aristes! 
 Come, then, lend me this monochord and pay attention to what I 
 am going to doand what Iam goingtosay. In pulling or in draw- 
 ing this string towards me I move it out of its natural position, 
 and when I let it go you see without any need of proof that for 
 some time it moves hither and thither, and that in this way it 
 causes a large number of vibrations and consequently many 
 other smaller motions imperceptible to our senses. For a straight 
 line being shorter than a curve, no string can make its vibra- 
 tions, in other words become alternatingly straight and curved, 
 without the parts which compose it lengthening or shortening very 
 quickly. But, I ask you, is not a moving body capable of setting 
 in motion whatever it meets? This string can therefore disturb 
 the air which surrounds it and even the subtle medium which 
 penetrates its pores, and this sets in motion something else 
 in your ear and in mine. 
 
 ARISTES. That is true. But what I hear isa sound, a sound 
 propagated in the air, a quality which is quite different from the 
 vibrations of a chord or from the agitations of the air which has 
 been disturbed. 
 
 THEODORE. Gently, Aristes. Do not consult your senses, and 
 do not judge on the strength of their testimony. It is true that 
 sound is something entirely different from disturbed air. But, 
 on that very account, you are wrong in saying that the sound 
 is propagated in the air. For, note this, when I touch this 
 string, I am merely setting it in vibration, and all a vibrating 
 string can do is to agitate the air which surrounds it. 
 
 ARISTES. A vibrating string can only agitate the air which 
 
ON METAPHYSICS 107 
 
 surrounds it! Why, do you not hear that it produces a sound 
 in the air? 
 
 THEODORE. Apparently, I hear what you hear. But when I 
 wish to be instructed with regard to a certain truth, I do not 
 consult my ears, and you consult yours, notwithstanding the good 
 resolutions which you have made. Enter, then, into yourself and 
 consult the clear ideas which reason contains. Is it your con- 
 ception that air and any small bodies are capable, when agitated 
 in a given manner, of containing this sound which you hear, 
 and that a string can produceit? Once again, do not consult 
 your ears, and for greater safety imagine that you are deaf. Con- 
 sider attentively the clear idea of extension ;—it is the archetype 
 of bodies, it represents their nature and their properties. Is it 
 not evident that all the possible properties of extension cannot 
 be anything but relations of distance ? Ponder this seriously. 
 
 ARISTES. That is evident. All the properties of extension 
 can consist only in its different modes of being. These can 
 only be relations of distance. 
 
 THEODORE. It follows that all the possible properties or 
 modifications of extension are only figures or stable and per- 
 manent spatial relations, and movements, or successive and 
 ever changing spatial relations. Hence the sound, which you 
 agree is a different thing from the movement, is not spread out 
 in the air, and a chord cannot produce it. It cannot be any- 
 thing but a sensation or a modification of the soul. 
 
 ARISTES. I see quite clearly that I must either agree with 
 you or deny the principle that the idea of extension represents 
 the nature of bodies. Perhaps it represents only one of its 
 properties. Indeed, who has told us that bodies are nothing 
 but extension? Perhaps the essence of matter consists in some 
 other thing, and this other thing may be capable of containing 
 sounds and even of producing them. Prove to me that the 
 contrary is true. 
 
 THEODORE. But do you prove yourself that the other thing 
 in which, according to you, the essence of matter is to consist 
 will not be capable of thinking, of willing, of reasoning? I 
 maintain that the chords of your lute think just as you do, or, 
 at least, that they are complaining because you disturb their 
 repose. Prove the contrary to me, and I will convince you 
 that they do not give rise to any sound. 
 
 ARISTES. It is true that if the nature of bodies consists in 
 
108 THIRD DIALOGUE 
 
 something other than extension, I cannot prove to you, not 
 having any idea of this ‘“‘something other,’ that it does not 
 think. But I ask you to prove to me that matter is nothing 
 else but extension, and that it is, therefore, incapable of thought. 
 This seems to me necessary in order to silence those infidels who 
 confuse the soul with the body, and who maintain that the one is 
 mortal just like the other; for, according to them, all our 
 thoughts are only modes of this unknown thing which we call 
 body, and all modes can cease to be. 
 
 XI. THEODORE. I have already answered the question 
 which you put to me! But it is so important that, though 
 it is not to the point, I am very glad to point out that its 
 solution depends, just like all other truths, upon the great 
 principle, that the universal Reason comprises the ideas which 
 enlighten us ; and, as the works of God were made according to 
 these ideas, we cannot do better than contemplate them, in order 
 to discover the properties of created entities. Observenow. We 
 can think of extension without thinking of any other thing. It 
 is, therefore, a being or a substance and not a mode or manner 
 of being. For we cannot think of a mode of being without 
 thinking of the being which it modifies. For modes of a being 
 are nothing but the being itself determined in a certain way. 
 We cannot think of figures and movements without thinking 
 of extension, since figures and movements are modes of extension. 
 This is clear unless I am mistaken. And if it does not seem so 
 to you, I submit that you have not any means of distinguishing 
 modes of substances from the substances themselves. If this 
 does not appear to you evident, let us philosophise no more. 
 HOP be es 
 
 ARISTES. Let us philosophise, I beseech you. 
 
 THEODORE. Very well. The idea or archetype of extension 
 is eternal, necessary. We see this idea, as I have already proved 
 to you, and God sees it also, for there is nothing in Him which 
 He does not discover. We see it, I say, clearly and distinctly, 
 without thinking of anything else. We can think of it in itself, 
 or rather we cannot think of it as a modification of some other 
 thing, for it contains no necessary relation to otherideas. But, 
 God can create that which He sees and which He causes us to 
 see in His light clearly and distinctly. He can create whatever 
 
 t Dialogue I, 2. 
 
ON METAPHYSICS 109 
 
 is not self-contradictory, for He is all-powerful. Hence He can 
 make extension all by itself. This extension will, then, be a 
 being or a substance, and the idea which we have of it will 
 represent its nature. If we suppose further that God has created 
 this extension, it will follow that there will be matter. For 
 what kind of being would this extension be? Now, I believe 
 that you see that this matter is not capable of thinking, feeling, 
 or reasoning. 
 
 ArRIsTES. I admit that, since our ideas are necessary and 
 eternal and the same as God consults, it follows, that if He acts 
 at all, He will take that which these ideas represent, and that 
 we are not mistaken when we attribute to matter only that 
 which we see in its archetype. Yet perhaps we do not see this 
 archetype in its entirety. Since modes of extension can only 
 be spatial relations, it follows that extension is not capable of 
 thought. I agree. But the subject or bearer of extension, 
 that something which is perhaps contained in the archetype of 
 matter and which is to us unknown, that may very well be 
 able to think. 
 
 XII. THEODORE. This unknown something will be able 
 to do a good many other things; it will be able to do whatso- 
 ever you choose to ascribe to it without anyone being able to 
 dispute your assertions. It may have thousands upon 
 thousands of faculties, virtues, admirable qualities. It may be 
 able to act on your soul, enlighten it, renderit happy and unhappy. 
 In a word, it will have as many powers, and if you press the point 
 as many divinities, as there are different bodies. For, indeed, 
 how do I know that this other thing, which you take to be the 
 essence of matter, will not have all the properties which it may 
 please you to ascribe to it, since I have no knowledge of it 
 whatever ? 
 
 Thus you see, perhaps, that in order to know the works of 
 God, it is necessary to consult the ideas which He gives us of 
 them, those ideas which are clear and in accordance with which 
 He has formed them; and that we run a great risk, if we follow 
 another course. For if we consult our senses, if we blindly yield 
 to their testimony, they will persuade us that there are at least 
 certain bodies, the power and intelligence of which are marvellous. 
 Our senses tell us that fire diffuses heat and light. They persuade 
 us that animals and plants work for the preservation of their 
 
110 THIRD DIALOGUE 
 
 life and of their species, with a kind of intelligence. Yet we 
 see that these faculties are something other than figures and 
 movements. We judge, then, on the ground of the confused 
 and obscure deliverances of our senses, that there must be in 
 bodies something other than extension, since modes of extension 
 can only be motions and figures. But let us attentively consult 
 reason. Let us linger over the clear idea which we have of 
 body. Let us not confuse it with our own being, and we shall 
 find perhaps that we attribute to such bodies qualities and 
 properties which they do not possess and which belong to us alone. 
 
 It may be, you argue, that we do not see the archetype or 
 idea of matter in its entirety. If that were so, we ought only 
 to attribute to it what our idea of it represents to us, for we can- 
 not ascribe to anything that which we do not know. Assuredly, 
 if unbelievers think that they are permitted to reason about 
 chimeras of which they have no idea whatever, they must allow 
 that we can reason about things by the ideas which we have of 
 them. But,in order to remove everything which may be a cause 
 of stumbling or of their gaining confidence in their strange errors, 
 note once more, that we can think of extension without thinking of 
 any other thing; for it is here that the principle lies. Hence, 
 God could make extension without making anything else. This 
 extension would then exist without the unknown something which 
 they attribute to matter. This extension would then be a sub- 
 stance and not a modification of substance. And this is what, for 
 several reasons, I believe we ought to call body or matter; not 
 only because we cannot think of modifications without thinking 
 of the entities of which they are the modifications, or because 
 there is no other way of distinguishing entities from their modes 
 than by ascertaining whether we can think of the former 
 without thinking of the latter, but also because by means of 
 extension alone and the properties ascribed to it by everybody 
 we can explain sufficiently all the natural effects; I mean that 
 we observe no effect of matter the natural cause of which cannot 
 be found in the idea of extension. 
 
 ARISTES. What you are saying now appears to me con- 
 vincing. I understand better than I did that, in order to know 
 the works of God, it is necessary to consult attentively the ideas 
 which He possesses in His wisdom and to silence our senses and 
 above all our imagination. Yet this way of discovering truth 
 is so hard and difficult that there is hardly anybody who follows 
 
ON METAPHYSICS 111 
 
 it. To see that the sun is brilliant with light we need only open 
 our eyes. To ascertain whether sound is in the air, it is sufficient 
 tomakeanoise. Nothingiseasier. But the mind is overstrained 
 when attending to ideas which do not strike the senses. One 
 soon gets tired: I know this from experience. Happy you 
 who can meditate on metaphysical matters ! 
 
 THEODORE. I am made just like others, my dear Aristes. 
 Judge me by yourself, and I shall feel honoured; you cannot 
 make a mistake except perhaps in my favour. What do you 
 expect ? This difficulty which we all find in uniting ourselves 
 with reason is a penalty and a proof of sin, and the rebellion of 
 the body is the cause of it. We are condemned to gain our living 
 by the sweat of our brow. Now, the mind must work if it is to 
 nourish itself upon truth. That is common to all men. But 
 believe me, this spiritual food is so delicious, and gives the 
 soul such enthusiasm, that once one has tasted of it, though one 
 should tire of searching for it, one never tires of desiring it and 
 of beginning one’s search again and again, since it is for this 
 purpose that we are made. But if I have fatigued you, give 
 me the instrument, so that I may relieve your attention, and 
 that I may as far as possible render sensible the truths which I 
 wish to make you understand. 
 
 ARISTES. What do you wish to do? I understand clearly 
 that sound is not propagated in the air, and that a string cannot 
 produce it. The reasons which you have just given me are to 
 me convincing. For, in short, neither sound nor the power to 
 produce it is contained in the idea of matter, since the modifications 
 of body consist in nothing but spatial relations. That is suffi- 
 cient for me. Nevertheless, here is another proof which occurs 
 to me and which is convincing. In a fever which I had some 
 time ago I heard the incessant howling of an animal which with- 
 out a doubt did not howl, seeing that it was dead. I believe also 
 that in sleep it happens to you as well as to me that one hears a 
 concert, or at least the sound of a trumpet or drum, though 
 everything may be in a deep silence. Being ill, then, I heard 
 yells and howlings, for I remember to this day that they caused 
 me much pain. But these unpleasant sounds were not in the 
 air, although I heard them therein, just as I hear therein the 
 sounds which this instrument makes. Thus, in spite of the fact 
 that we hear sounds as though they were propagated in 
 the air, it does not follow from this fact that they are really 
 
112 THIRD DIALOGUE 
 
 there. They exist really only in the soul, for they are only 
 sensations which affect it, only modifications which belong 
 to it. Nay, I go even further. For all that you have just 
 told me induces me to believe that there is nothing in the 
 objects of our senses resembling the sensations which we have 
 of them. These objects stand in a certain relation to their 
 ideas, but it seems to me that they stand in no relation to our 
 sensations. Bodies are nothing but extension capable of motion 
 and of various figures. This becomes clear when we consult 
 the ideas which represent them. 
 
 THEODORE. Bodies, you say, have nothing that resembles the 
 sensations which we have, and in order to know their properties 
 we must consult not our senses, but the clear idea of extension 
 which represents their nature. Remember well this important 
 truth. 
 
 ARISTES. That truth is evident, and I shall never forget it. 
 
 XIII. THEopoRE. Never! Tell me, then, pray, what is 
 an octave and a fifth. Or rather instruct me what I must do 
 in order to hear these consonances ? 
 
 ARISTES. That is quite easy. Strike the whole string, put 
 your finger there, and then strike either division of the string, 
 and you will hear the octave. 
 
 THEODORE. Why should I put my finger there and not 
 here ? 
 
 ARISTES. Because here you would get a fifth, and not an 
 octave. Just look. All the tones are marked here. Why do 
 you laugh ? 
 
 THEODORE. Now I know all about it, Aristes. I can make 
 you hear all the tones [ desire. But if we had _ broken 
 your instrument, all our science would be shattered into bits. 
 
 ARISTES. Not at all. I could easily make another. It is 
 only a string on a board. Anybody can make that. 
 
 THEODORE. Yes, but that is not enough. It is necessary 
 to mark out the consonances on the board exactly. How would 
 you divide it up in order to mark the points where the finger 
 must be placed in order to hear the octave, the fifth and the 
 other consonances ? 
 
 ARISTES. I should strike the whole string; and, by sliding 
 my finger along it, I should obtain the tone that I wished to 
 mark. For I know enough music to tune an instrument. 
 
ON METAPHYSICS 113 
 
 THEODORE. Your method is hardly exact, for you find what 
 you want only by feeling your way. But if you became deaf, 
 or rather, if the little muscle which stretches the drum skin in 
 your ear and puts it in tune with your instrument were to be 
 relaxed, what would become of your science? Could you 
 any longer mark out exactly the different tones? May not a 
 person become deaf without forgetting music? If you forget, 
 your knowledge is not based on clear ideas. Reason has no 
 part in it; for reason is immutable and necessary. 
 
 Artistes. Ah, Theodore, I had already forgotten what I have 
 just said I would never forget. What am I thinking of? I 
 have given you some amusing answers. You had good ground 
 for laughing at them. It is only natural that I listen more 
 to my senses than to my reason; I am so used to consulting 
 my ears that I did not think sufficiently of what you were asking 
 me. I will give you another answer with which you will be more 
 satisfied. In order to mark the octave on this instrument it is 
 necessary to divide into two equal parts the space which corre- 
 sponds to the string. For if, having struck the whole string, 
 one then touches either half, one gets an octave. If one strikes 
 the whole, and then two-thirds, we get the fifth, and lastly, if one 
 touches the whole, and then three-fourths, we get the fourth, and 
 these latter two consonances will equal an octave. 
 
 XIV. THEODORE. This reply is instructive. I understand it 
 distinctly. I see by means of it that the octave, or rather the 
 natural cause which produces it, is as 2 to 1, the fifth as 3 to 2, 
 the fourth as 4 to 3. These numerical relations are clear. And, 
 since you tell me that a string divided and struck in accordance 
 with the magnitudes denoted by these numbers yields these 
 consonances, if I were to become deaf I should be able to mark 
 them on the monochord. Thus you see what it is to reason by 
 means of clear ideas ; people are instructed in a thorough manner. 
 But why do a fifth and a fourth equal one octave ? 
 
 ARISTES. Because sound is to sound as string to string. 
 Thus, since an octave is heard when we touch a string and then 
 the half of it, the octave is as 2 to 1, or which is the same thing 
 as 4 to 2. Now, the ratio of 4 to 2 is composed of the ratios 
 of 4 to 3, which is the fourth, and of 3 to 2, which is the fifth. 
 For, as you know, the ratio of one number to another is made 
 up of all the ratios which subsist between all the numbers which 
 
 8 
 
114 THIRD DIALOGUE 
 
 these two numbers contain. The ratio of 3 to 6, for example, 
 which is that of 1 to 2,is made up of the ratios of 3 to 4, 4 to 5 
 and 5 to 6; and thus you see that the major third and the minor 
 third are equivalent to the fifth. For the ratio of 4 to 6, which 
 equals the ratio of 2 to 3, is made up of the ratios 4 to 5, which 
 is the major third, and 5 to 6, which is the minor third. 
 
 THEODORE. I understand all this clearly, if we grant that 
 sound is to sound as chord to chord. But I do not quite under- 
 stand the principle. Do you think it is based on clear ideas ? 
 
 ARISTES. Yes, I think so. For the string and its various 
 vibrations are the cause of the various sounds. But the whole 
 cause is toits half as 2 to 1, and effects are in exact correspondence 
 with their causes. Hence the effect of the whole cause is double 
 that of half the cause. Hence the sound of the whole chord is 
 to the sound of half the string as 2 to 1. 
 
 THEODORE. Do you understand distinctly what you are 
 telling me? As for me, I find it rather obscure, and as far as 
 possible I submit only to that evidence which accompanies clear 
 ideas. 
 
 ARISTES. What fault do you find in my reasoning ? 
 
 XV. THEODORE. There is a good deal of intelligence in it. 
 For you are not lacking in that respect. Yet the principle is 
 obscure. It does not rest upon clear ideas. Pay attention now. 
 You think you know what you only feel, and you take for a 
 principle a prejudice, the falsity of which you have already 
 . recognised. But in order to make you realise the falsity of your 
 proof, allow me to make a little experiment on you. Give me 
 your hand. I shall not do you any great harm. Now that I 
 rub the hollow of your hand with the end of my sleeve, do you 
 not feel anything ? 
 
 ARISTES. I feel a little heat or a kind of tickling, which is 
 not disagreeable. 
 
 THEODORE. And now? 
 
 ARISTES. Ah, Theodore, you are hurting me. You are 
 rubbing it too hard. I feel a pain which upsets me. 
 
 THEODORE. You are mistaken, Aristes. Let me continue. 
 You are feeling a pleasure two or three times greater than that 
 which you felt just now. I can prove it to you by your own 
 reasoning. Observe. My rubbing your hand is the cause of 
 what you feel. But the whole cause is to its half as 2 to 1, and 
 
 7 
 Pe 
 SSS Se 
 
 pete ae 
 
ON METAPHYSICS 115 
 
 effects correspond exactly with the action of their causes. 
 Hence, the effect of the whole cause or the whole action of the 
 cause is double the effect of its half. Hence, in rubbing you 
 twice as hard or twice as quickly, the redoubled movement should 
 produce twice as much pleasure. Hence, I have not caused you 
 any pain, unless you maintain that pain is to pleasure as 
 m £0, 1, 
 
 ARISTES. J am punished, indeed, for reasoning with the aid 
 of an obscure principle. You have hurt me; and as an excuse 
 you prove to me that you have given me a double pleasure. 
 That is not very agreeable. 
 
 THEODORE. You have been let off easily. For had we 
 been near the fire I might have done worse. 
 
 ARISTES. What would you have done to me? 
 
 THEODORE. Very likely I should have taken a burning coal 
 and at first brought it somewhat near to your hand ; and, if you 
 _had said that that was pleasant, I should have applied it to your 
 hand in order to give you more of it; and, then, I should have 
 proved to you by your own reasoning that you had no right to 
 complain. 
 
 AristEs. Truly I have had a fortunate escape. Is this the 
 way in which you teach people ? 
 
 THEODORE. What else should I do? If I give you meta- 
 physical proofs you forget them forthwith. It is necessary, 
 therefore, that I should render them sensuous, so that you should 
 understand them without difficulty and should always remember 
 them. Why have you forgotten so quickly that we must reason 
 only with clear ideas, that a string in motion can only agitate 
 the air which surrounds it and cannot produce the sound which 
 you hear? | 
 
 ARISTES. Because as I strike the string I hear the 
 sound. 
 
 THEODORE. I see that quite well. But you do not conceive 
 clearly that the vibrations of a string can produce or propagate 
 sound. You have agreed to this. For sound is not contained 
 in the idea of matter, still less does matter possess the power of 
 _acting on the soul and causing it to hear the sound. From the 
 fact that the vibrations of a chord or of the air are followed by a 
 sound and by a definite sound, you may conclude that things 
 being as they are, that is what must be done in order that a 
 sound should be heard. Yet do not imagine that there is a 
 
116 THIRD DIALOGUE 
 
 necessary relation between these things. Apparently, I do not 
 hear the same sound as you do, though perhaps I hear the same 
 notes or even the same consonances. For if the drum of my 
 ear is smaller or thinner than yours, and is thus caused to adjust 
 itself more easily in taking up another note than in taking up 
 the same—and this is quite probable—assuredly, other things 
 remaining the same, I shall hear a louder sound than you hear, 
 when this string is touched. Lastly, I see no quantitative re- 
 lations between consonances. It is not clear that the difference 
 between the sounds of which they are made up is that be- 
 tween the greater and the smaller as in the case with the strings 
 that produce them. So much seems to me evident. 
 
 ARISTES. That seems to metrue. But if the vibrations of 
 a string are not the cause of the sound, how is it that I hear the 
 sound when the string is touched ? 
 
 THEODORE. Thisis not the time, Aristes, to solve that problem. 
 When we have dealt with the efficacy of causes, it will be solved 
 without any difficulty. At present, I merely wish to make you 
 notice the difference that subsists between knowing clearly and 
 feeling confusedly. I merely wish to convince you of the 
 important truth, that in order to know the works of God, we 
 must not linger over the sensations which we have of them, but 
 over the ideas which represent them. For I cannot repeat this 
 too often, we must not consult our senses, or our own mental 
 modifications, which are only obscure, but reason, which en- 
 lightens us by its divine ideas, that are immutable, necessary 
 and eternal. 
 
 ArIsTEs. I agree. I am fully convinced of this. Let us 
 pass on to some further point, for I am tired of hearing you 
 ceaselessly repeating the same things. 
 
 XVI. THEODORE. We will pass on to whatever you please. 
 Yet believe me it is not enough to see a principle, one must see 
 it clearly; for between seeing and seeing there are infinite 
 differences, and the principle I am insisting upon is so necessary 
 and of such great applicability, that it is essential to have it 
 always present to the mind, and not to forget it as you do. 
 But let us see whether you are quite convinced of it and whether 
 you know how to use it. Tell me why it is that two strings being 
 in unison the one cannot be touched without setting the other 
 
 in vibration. 
 
ON METAPHYSICS 117 
 
 ARISTES. This question appears to me to be very difficult. 
 For I have read several explanations of it in the works of 
 certain authors, which hardly satisfy me. I fear that my answer 
 will draw forth from you another little jest, or that you will 
 make another experiment, at my cost. 
 
 THEODORE. No, no, Aristes, do not be afraid. But do not 
 forget the principle of clear ideas. I ought not to remind you 
 of itso often. But I am afraid lest “‘sympathy,”’ or some other 
 chimera, should hinder you from following it. 
 
 ARISTES. Just let us see. When I touch this string it dis- 
 turbs the air through its vibrations. But the air, thus disturbed, 
 can communicate some of its movement to the other strings 
 which it meets. 
 
 THEODORE. Very well, but the dissonant strings no less 
 than those which produce the same sounds will be disturbed. 
 
 ARISTES. That is what I was thinking of. A little 
 “sympathy ”’ would come in very well here, but you will have 
 none of it. 
 
 THEODORE. I accept the word quite willingly for what it 
 is worth. There exists a sympathy between the strings of the 
 same sound. That is certain, since they act on each other, for 
 this is what the word means. But whence comes this sympathy ? 
 It is there that the difficulty lies. 
 
 ARISTES. It is not due to length or thickness, for there is 
 sympathy between unequal strings, and there is no sympathy 
 between equal strings if they do not yield the same sound. 
 Hence, everything must depend on the sound. But now the 
 sound is not a modification of the string, and the string cannot 
 produce it. Whence then comes this sympathy ? I am, indeed, 
 in a difficulty. 
 
 THEODORE. You are troubled over a little matter. There 
 is sympathy between strings of the samesound. That is the fact 
 which you wish to explain. Find, then, what it is that causes 
 the strings to produce the same sound, and you will have 
 all that is necessary in order to discover what you are in 
 search of. 
 
 ARISTES. If two strings are equal in length and size, it will 
 be the equality of their tension that will cause them to give the 
 same sound, and if they are not equal, this will depend on the re- 
 ciprocal proportion of the length and thickness with their 
 . tension. 
 
118 THIRD DIALOGUE 
 
 THEODORE. What, then, does a tension more or less great 
 produce in these equal strings ? 
 
 ARISTES. It renders them capable of a sound, of a lower or 
 higher pitch. 
 
 THEODORE. Yes, but that is not what we want. We are 
 not dealing with the differences between sounds; no sound can 
 disturb a string, for sound is rather the effect than the cause of 
 the movement. Tell me then how the tension causes the sound 
 to become of a higher pitch. 
 
 ARISTES. Apparently because it causes the string to have 
 more rapid vibrations. 
 
 THEODORE. Good; that is all we want. For the vibration 
 and not the sound of my string can cause yours to vibrate. 
 Two strings equal in length and thickness and of equal tension 
 yield the same sound because they have vibrations which are 
 equal in rapidity; and if one rises higher than the other, that is 
 a sign that it is more tense, and that it makes each of its vibra- 
 tions more rapidly. But no string can disturb another except by 
 means of its vibrations For no body can move another except 
 by means of its own movement. This being so, tell me now 
 why strings of the same sound communicate their vibrations 
 to one another, and why dissonant strings do not, at least not 
 in any sensible degree. 
 
 XVII. Artistes. I see the reason clearly. Take two strings 
 of the same sound. Here is yours, here is mine. When I 
 release my string, it pushes the air towards you, and this air 
 thus pushed disturbs your string alittle. Mine keeps on making 
 a quantity of similar vibrations—in a very short time each of 
 these vibrations disturbs the air, and pushes your string just as 
 the first movement did. It is that which causes it to vibrate. 
 For several small impacts suitably administered can produce 
 a sensible vibration. But when these shocks come out of time, 
 they impede one another. Thus, when two strings are dissonant, 
 or cannot make their vibrations in equal or multiple times because 
 they are not equally stretched, or because they are of unequal 
 or incommensurable length, they cannot disturb each other. 
 For, if the first moves and pushes the air towards you, the second, 
 having a contrary movement and returning towards me, its 
 movements will be hindered instead of strengthened. It is 
 necessary, then, that the vibrations of the strings should take 
 
 - 
 
ON METAPHYSICS 119 
 
 place in equal or multiple times, so that they mutually communicate 
 to one another a movement sufficiently great to be felt, and 
 their movement is felt the more, the nearer the consonances 
 which they yield approach to unison. That is why in an octave 
 they vibrate to a greater extent than in a fifth, and in a fifth 
 more than in a fourth, because the two strings begin their 
 vibrations most often at the same instant. Are you satisfied 
 with this reason ? 
 
 THEODORE. Quite, Aristes; for now you have followed the 
 principle of clear ideas. I fully understand that strings of the 
 same sound move each other mutually, not by the sympathy 
 of their sound, for sound cannot be the cause of movement, but 
 by the agreement of their vibrations which disturb or agitate 
 the air in which they are stretched. So long as you reason 
 about the properties of bodies by the aid of figures and move- 
 ments, I shall be satisfied with you. For your mind is so exact 
 that it is difficult for you to reason badly in following a clear 
 principle. Indeed, if we so often fall into error, it is due rather 
 to the falsity or obscurity of our ideas than to the weakness of 
 our minds. Geometricians seldom err, physicists nearly always. 
 Why is this? Because the latter reason always with the aid of 
 confused ideas, and the former with the aid of the clearest ideas 
 which we have. 
 
 ArIstEes. I see the necessity of your principle better than 
 ever. You have done well to repeat it so often and thus to 
 make me sensible of it. I will try to remember it. We must not 
 judge of sensible objects by the feelings with which they strike 
 us, but by the ideas which represent them. Our feelings are 
 confused. They are but modifications of our soul which cannot 
 enlighten us. But the ideas which reason discloses to us are 
 luminous; they carry with them their own evidence. It is 
 sufficient to consider them attentively in order to discover their 
 relations, and to receive solid instruction about the truth. Is 
 it not this, Theodore, that you wish me to bear in mind ? 
 
 THEODORE. Yes, Aristes, and if you do so, you will travel 
 without fear in the realm of intelligences. You will wisely 
 avoid the inaccessible or the dangerous places, and you will 
 no longer be in fear of those seducing phantoms which insensibly 
 lead all the new travellers to these countries into error. But. 
 do not imagine that you know well what I have just told you, 
 and what you have yourself repeated. You will only know 
 
120 THIRD DIALOGUE 
 
 it exactly when you have meditated upon it often. For we never 
 completely understand what we are told, unless inner truth 
 repeats it to us when all created things are silent. Adieu, 
 
 Aristes; I leave you alone with reason. Consult it seriously and 
 forget all else. 
 
FOURTH DIALOGUE 
 
 The general nature and properties of the senses—The wisdom of the laws 
 of the conjunction of soul and body—This union changed into a 
 relation of dependence by the sin of the first man. 
 
 ARISTES. Where are you coming from, Theodore? I was 
 getting impatient at not meeting you. 
 
 I. THEODORE. What, is not reason sufficient for you, and 
 cannot you pass the time pleasantly with it, if Theodore is not 
 among the party? To the blessed spirits reason suffices for all 
 eternity ; and yet you are impatient at not seeing me, though I have 
 only left you with it for a few hours. What are you thinking 
 of? Do you believe that I shall allow you to have a blind and 
 intemperate attachment for me! Love reason, consult it, follow 
 it. For I declare to you I renounce the friendship of those who 
 neglect it and who refuse to submit to its laws, 
 
 ARISTES. Gently, Theodore. Just listen. 
 
 II. THEODORE. There can be no enduring and sincere friendship 
 which does not rest upon reason, upon a good which is immutable, 
 upon a good which all can possess without dividing it. For 
 the friendship which rests upon goods which are divided and 
 which disappear through use always has sad results and lasts 
 only a short time. A dangerous kind of friendship! 
 
 ArIsTES. Agreed. All that is true, nothing is more certain. 
 Ah, Theodore ! 
 
 THEODORE. What do you wish to say? 
 
 III. Artistes. What a difference there is between seeing 
 and seeing, between knowing what people tell us, when 
 they tell us, and knowing what reason tells us when it 
 speaks to us! What a difference there is between knowing 
 and feeling, between the ideas which enlighten us, and the 
 confused feelings which agitate and trouble us! How fruitful 
 this principle is! and what light it throws! How many errors 
 and prejudices it disposes of! I have meditated, Theodore, 
 
 upon this principle, I have followed out its consequences and 
 121 
 
122 FOURTH DIALOGUE 
 
 have been impatient to see you in order to thank you for having 
 taught it to me. Allow me to tell you what the faithful ones 
 of Samaria said to the Samaritan woman, after they had, like 
 her, heard our common Master. Now we believe, not because 
 of thy saying, they said to the woman, for we have heard Him 
 ourselves and know.? Yes, now I am convinced not by the 
 force of your argument but by the evident responses of inner 
 truth. I understand what you have told me. But have I not 
 understood several other things of which you have not spoken 
 tome? I have understood them clearly, and what is most deeply 
 impressed on my memory is the fact that I have lived all my 
 life in illusion, ever misled by the testimony of my senses, ever 
 corrupted by their attractions. How despicable are the goods of 
 the senses! How impotent corporeal things appeartome! No, 
 this sun, however brilliant it may appear to mine eyes, neither 
 possesses nor diffuses the light which enlightens me. All these 
 colours which gladden me by their variety and vivacity, all these 
 beautiful things which charm me when I turn my eyes to all that 
 is around me, belong to myself. All this comes not from corporeal 
 things, it is not in corporeal things. For nothing of all this is con- 
 tained in the idea of matter. And I feel sure that one must not 
 judge of the works of God by the sensations which one has of 
 them, but by the immutable, eternal and necessary ideas which 
 represent them, by the archetype in accordance with which they 
 have all been formed. | 
 
 THEODORE. What pleasure it gives me to hear you! I 
 see quite well that you have consulted reason during the time 
 when all creatures were sunk in silence, for you are still fully 
 enlightened, fully animated, fully penetrated, by its light. Ah, 
 what good friends we shall always be, if reason is always our 
 common master, and the bond of our union! We shall both - 
 enjoy the same pleasures, we shall both possess the same riches. 
 For truth gives itself wholly to all and in all entirety to each of 
 us. All minds receive nourishment therefrom, without diminish- 
 ing its abundance. Once again, I rejoice to see you so impressed 
 by the truths which you are recounting to me. 
 
 IV. ARIsTES. I am also fully conscious of my obligation to 
 you. That was the cause of my impatience. Yes, you have 
 revealed to me the tree of the earthly paradise which gives to 
 
 t John iv.742. 
 
ON METAPHYSICS 123 
 
 our spirits life and immortality. You have shown me the celestial 
 manna with which I must support myself in the desert of the 
 present life. Without my being aware of it, you have conducted 
 me to our inner Master, who alone enlightens all intelligent minds. 
 A quarter of an hour’s serious attention to the clear and 
 luminous ideas thus presented to my mind has taught me more 
 truths, has freed me from more prejudices than all that I had 
 read in the books of the philosophers, than all that I had heard 
 my teachers and even you say. For, however exact your expres- 
 sions are when you speak to me and I consult reason, I get at 
 the same time a confused whir of two different answers, the one 
 sensuous, the other intelligible. And the least of the ill effects 
 resulting therefrom is that the answer which strikes my ear takes 
 up a good deal of the capacity of my mind and diminishes thereby 
 its vivacity and power of penetration. For it requires time to 
 give your words utterance. But all the answers of reason are 
 eternal and immutable. They have always been uttered, or 
 rather they are always being uttered without any temporal 
 succession, and though it takes us some moments to hear them, 
 reason needs none to produce them, for in truth they are never 
 made. They are eternal, immutable, necessary. Allow me to 
 tell you a part of what I believe I have learnt from our common 
 Master, to whom you were charitable enough to introduce me. 
 
 V. As soon as you left me, Theodore, I fell into deep medi- 
 tation in order to consult reason, and I recognised far better 
 than when you were speaking to me and I was yielding to your 
 arguments that the ideas of created beings are eternal, that 
 God has made all bodies in accordance with the idea of extension, 
 that this idea must, therefore, represent their nature, and that I 
 must consequently consider it carefully in order to discover their 
 properties. I understood clearly that to consult my senses, and 
 to seek truth in my own states of mind, was to prefer darkness 
 to light and to abandon reason. At first my senses resisted my 
 conclusions, as though they were jealous of the ideas, as though 
 they saw themselves deprived by them of a privilege which 
 they had long possessed in my mind. But I found so much 
 falsity and so many contradictions in the resistance which they 
 offered, that I condemned them as deceivers and false witnesses. 
 Indeed, I saw nothing convincing in their testimony; and, on 
 the other hand, I noticed a wonderful clearness in the ideas which 
 
124 FOURTH DIALOGUE 
 
 they were attempting to obscure. Thus, though they continued 
 speaking to me with confidence, assurance and the utmost 
 importunity, I drove them to silence, and I re-summoned the 
 ideas which were abandoning me because they could not endure 
 the hum and tumult of the mutinous senses. 
 
 I must admit, Theodore, that the sensuous proofs which 
 you have given me against the authority of the senses proved 
 wonderfully useful. Forit was by means of them that I suc- 
 ceeded in quelling the noisy senses. I convicted them of falsity 
 on their own evidence. They contradicted themselves at every 
 turn. For, apart from the fact that they said nothing which 
 was not incomprehensible and altogether incredible, they gave 
 me the same reports of entirely different things and quite con- 
 tradictory reports of the same things, according to the interest 
 which they happened to take therein. I, therefore, silenced 
 them, being quite determined no longer to judge of the works 
 of God on the basis of their testimony, but rather on that of 
 the ideas which represent those works and in accordance with 
 which they were formed. 
 
 It was in following this principle that I realised that 
 light is neither in the sun nor in the air where we see it; that 
 colours are not on the surface of bodies; that the sun could 
 perhaps set in motion the fine particles of the air, and these latter 
 could communicate the same impression of movement to the 
 optic nerve, and thence to that part of the brain where the soul 
 resides, and that these small bodies in movement when encounter- 
 ing solid objects might be reflected differently according to the 
 diversity in the surfaces which were causing them to rebound. 
 So much for their boasted light and variety of colours. 
 
 VI. I have understood likewise that the heat which I feel 
 is not in the fire, nor the cold in the ice, nor even pain in my 
 own body, in which I have often felt it so cruelly acute. Neither 
 is sweetness in the sugar, nor bitterness in the aloes, nor acidity in 
 sour grapes, nor sourness in vinegar, nor that sweetness and strength 
 in wine which deceives and stupefies so many drunkards. I see 
 all this, by the same reason which enabled me to see that sound 
 must be regarded as not in the air and that there is an infinite 
 difference between the vibrations of strings and the sounds which 
 they yield, between the proportions of their vibrations and the 
 variety of the consonances. 
 
ON METAPHYSICS 125 
 
 It would take me too long, Theodore, if I were to give you 
 in detail all the proofs which have convinced me! that bodies 
 have no other qualities than those which result from their figures, 
 not any other activity than their various movements. But I 
 cannot conceal from you a difficulty which, despite all my efforts, 
 I was unable to surmount. I follow, for instance, without mis- 
 giving, the action of the sun through all the space which separates 
 it from me. For, granted that there is no empty space, I can 
 understand that the sun can make no impression in the places 
 it occupies without the impression being transmitted to the 
 place which I occupy or to my eyes, and by my eyes to my brain. 
 But, in following the clear idea of movement, I could not under- 
 stand whence there came to me the sensation of light. I see 
 quite well that the movement of the optic nerve is alone sufficient 
 to produce the sensation in me. For, pressing the corner of 
 my eye with my finger on a spot behind which I know the optic 
 nerve is located, I saw a bright light in a place otherwise dark 
 on the side opposite to that on which my eye was pressed. Yet 
 this change from movement to light seemed to me then and 
 seems to me still altogether incomprehensible. What a strange 
 metamorphosis, from a pressure on the eye to a brilliant 
 light! And this is all the more astounding because I do 
 not see this radiance of light in my soul of which it is the 
 modification, nor in my brain, where the disturbance ends, nor 
 in the eye where the pressure takes place, nor on the side on 
 which I press my eye, but in the air—in the air which surely is 
 incapable of such a modification, and on the side opposite to 
 the eye which I press. What a marvellous thing! 
 
 VII. At first I thought that my soul, on being warned of 
 the disturbance that had taken place in my body, was the cause 
 of the sensations which it had of the things around it. But a 
 little reflection undeceived me. For it is not true, it seems to 
 me, that the soul knows anything of the disturbance caused by 
 the sun in the fibres of the brain. I saw light before I knew of 
 this disturbance. For children who do not even know that 
 they have a brain are struck by the brilliance of light just as 
 much as philosophers are. Again, what relation is there between the 
 vibrations of a corporeal thing and the different sensations which 
 follow such vibrations ? How can I see light in bodies if it is 
 a modification of my soul, how see it in bodies around me, if the 
 
 , 1 Cf. Recherche, Bk. I, Ch. VI, sew 
 
126 FOURTH DIALOGUE 
 
 disturbance takes place in my body alone? I press the corner 
 of my eye on the right side, why do I see the light on the left 
 side, notwithstanding the fact that J am well aware that it is not 
 on that side that I am pressing ? 
 
 From all this, and from a number of other things which it 
 would take me too long to tell you, I concluded that the sensa- 
 tions were in myself, that I was in no wise their cause, and that if 
 corporeal things were capable of acting on me and of making them- 
 selves felt in the way I feel them, it would be necessary that they 
 should be of a nature more excellent than my body, endowed with 
 a terrible power, and some of them even with a wisdom truly 
 marvellous, always uniform in their behaviour, always effective 
 in their action, always incomprehensible in the astounding results 
 of their power. All this appeared to me tremendous and terrible 
 to think of, though my senses encouraged the madness and quite 
 accommodated themselves to it. But, Theodore, will you kindly 
 clear this matter up for me? 
 
 THEODORE. There is no time to resolve your difficulties 
 unless you desire that we should leave the general truths of 
 metaphysics and enter upon an explanation of the principles of 
 physics and of the laws of the conjunction of soul and body. 
 
 ARISTES. Say a few words, please, on this point. It will 
 give me much pleasure to meditate upon the matter. My mind 
 is quite prepared for it. 
 
 VIII. THEODORE. Listen, then; but remember to meditate 
 upon what I have already told you. When we seek to find the 
 reason of certain effects, and in following the chain of causes and 
 effects arrive at last at a general cause or at a cause that we 
 can quite well see has no relation to the effect which it produces 
 or rather appears to produce, then instead of being satisfied with 
 chimeras, we ought to have recourse to the author of the laws 
 ofnature. For example, if you were to ask me what is the cause | 
 of the pain which one feels when one is pricked, I should be 
 wrong to tell you forthwith that it is one of the laws of the author 
 of nature that a prick should be followed by pain. I ought 
 to tell you that the prick cannot separate the fibres of my flesh 
 without disturbing the nerves which propagate stimulation to 
 the brain, and without disturbing the brain itself. But if you 
 wish to know how it is that when a certain part of my brain is 
 disturbed in a given way, I feel the pain of a prick, this question 
 
ON METAPHYSICS 127 
 
 concerns a general effect ; and, as one cannot by tracing the matter 
 further, find a natural or particular cause, one must have recourse 
 to a general cause. For this amounts to a question as to who 
 is the author of the general laws of the conjunction of soul and 
 body. Now, since admittedly, there can be no relation or 
 necessary connection between a disturbance in the brain and 
 certain sensations, it is evident that we must have recourse to a 
 power which is not to be met with in either of these entities. It 
 is not sufficient to say that as the prick wounds the body, the 
 soul must be warned of the fact by pain, so that it may go to 
 its assistance. For this would be to substitute a final for an 
 efficient cause, and the difficulty would remain; for we should 
 still have to ascertain the cause which brings it about, that, on 
 the occasion of the body being wounded, the soul suffers in 
 consequence, and experiences a particular kind of pain for a 
 particular kind of wound. 
 
 IX. Further, to say, with certain philosophers, that the soul 
 is the cause of the pain, because the pain is but the sadness 
 which the soul feels when there takes place in the body which it 
 loves some disturbance of which it is warned by the difficulty 
 which it has in the exercise of its functions, is to neglect 
 the inner feeling which we experience of what takes place in 
 us. For every one feels unmistakably, when he is being bled, for 
 example, or when he burns himself, that he is not the cause of 
 the pain. He feels it against his own will, and he cannot doubt 
 that it comes to him from an external cause. Again, the soul 
 does not feel pain and a particular kind of pain because 
 it has learnt that a disturbance is taking place in the brain, 
 and a particular kind of disturbance. Nothing is more certain 
 than this. Finally, pain and sadness are entirely different. Pain 
 precedes the awareness of the evil, sadness followsit. Pain is not 
 agreeable, but sadness sometimes pleases us so much that those 
 who wish to banish it from our mind without freeing us at the 
 same time from the evil which causes it grieve and irritate us 
 just as if they disturbed our joy, because sadness is, in fact, 
 a state of the soul which is most suitable for us when we suffer 
 some evil or are deprived of some good, and the feeling which 
 accompanies this state of mind is the most suitable we can have 
 under the circumstances. Pain, then, is entirely different from 
 sadness. Moreover, I think that the soul is not the cause of its 
 
128 FOURTH DIALOGUE 
 
 sadness ; and that the thought which we have of the loss of some 
 good only produces this feeling in us in consequence of the natural 
 and necessary movement which God unceasingly impresses upon 
 us for our welfare. But let us return to the difficulties which you 
 have regarding the action and the qualities of light. 
 
 X. Firstly, there is no metamorphosis. The disturbance 
 that takes place in the brain cannot change into light or 
 into colours. For as modifications of bodies are nothing but 
 these bodies themselves determined in a particular manner, 
 they cannot be transformed into modifications of mind. That 
 is evident. 
 
 Secondly, you press the corner of your eye and you have 
 a certain sensation. That is so because He who alone can act 
 upon minds has established certain laws owing to which body 
 and soul operate and suffer in reciprocal determination.! 
 
 Thirdly, when you press your eye you have a sensation 
 of light, though there is present no luminous body, because it is 
 by a pressure similar to that which your finger exerts upon your 
 eye, and from there on your brain, that bodies which we call 
 luminous operate upon those around them, and through the latter 
 upon our eyes and our brains, All this takes place in consequence 
 of natural laws. For it is one of the laws of the conjunction 
 of soul and body in accordance with which God acts inces- 
 santly upon those two substances, that a particular pressure or 
 a particular disturbance should be followed by a particular 
 sensation. 
 
 Fourthly, you see the light which is a modification of your 
 mind and which, therefore, can exist init alone; for there is a 
 contradiction in the thought of a modification of a being existing 
 where that beingis not. You see it, I say, in the vast spaces which 
 your mind does not fill, for the mind does not occupy space. 
 Those spaces which you see are only intelligible spaces which 
 do not occupy any place. For the spaces which you see are quite 
 different from the material spaces which you survey. One 
 must nor confuse the ideas of things with the things themselves. 
 Remember, that we do not see bodies in themselves, and 
 that it is only through their ideas that they are visible. 
 Often we can see what does not actually exist, a proof 
 
 t Cf. Dialogue XII. 
 2 Cf. Premiere Letive touchani la Défense de M. Arnauld. 
 
ON METAPHYSICS 129 
 
 positive that those things which we see are intelligible and quite 
 different from those which we look at. 
 
 Fifthly and lastly, you see the light not on the side on which 
 you press your eye but on the opposite side, because, the nerve being 
 constructed and adapted to receive impressions from luminous 
 bodies through the pupil of the eye and not otherwise, the pressure 
 of your finger on the left produces the same effect on your eye 
 as aluminous body on the right whose rays were to pass the pupil 
 and the transparent part of the eye would produce. For in 
 pressing the eye from without you are pressing the optic nerve 
 from within against what is called the vitreous humour, which 
 in turn offers some resistance. Thus, God makes you experience the 
 light on the side on which you see it because He always follows 
 the laws which He has established in order to keep His procedure 
 perfectly uniform; God never performs miracles; He never 
 acts according to particular volitions against His own laws, for 
 the order does not demand or permit it. His action always 
 bears the character of His attributes. It continues always the 
 same, if what He owes to his immutability is of no smaller impor- 
 tance than what He owes to any other of His perfections—as 
 I shall prove to you in the sequel. Herein, I think, lies the solution 
 of your difficulties. I have recourse to God and His attributes 
 in order to remove them. But God, Aristes, does not remain 
 idle, with arms folded, as certain philosophers maintain. Cer- 
 tainly, if God still acts, you may ask: When will one be able to say 
 that He is the cause of certain effects, if one is not permitted to 
 have recourse to Him in the case of those effects which are general, 
 which one sees clearly have no necessary or essential relation 
 with their natural causes ? Keep, however, what I have just told 
 you clearly in your memory, my dear Aristes, give it a place there 
 among all that you hold most precious. And although you may 
 understand it quite well, allow me to repeat in a few words what 
 is essential in it so that you may return to it without difficulty 
 when you are in a position to meditate upon it. 
 
 XI. There is no necessary relation between the two substances 
 of which we are composed. The modifications of our bodies 
 cannot, by their own activity, change those of our minds. Never- 
 theless, the modifications of a certain part of the brain which I 
 will not further determine are always followed by modifications 
 or feelings of our soul ; and this solely in consequence of the con- 
 
 9 
 
130 FOURTH DIALOGUE 
 
 tinual exercise of the laws of the union of these two substances,— 
 that is to say, to speak more clearly, in consequence of the con- 
 stant and ever effective will of the author of our being. There is 
 no relation of causality between a body and a mind. What am 
 Isaying? That there is no relation between a mind and a body. 
 I am saying more. There is no real relation between one body 
 and another, between one mind and another. In a word, no 
 created thing can act upon another by an activity whichis its own. 
 This I will prove to you presently.’ But, at least, itis evident that 
 a body, that extension, a purely passive substance, cannot operate 
 by its own activity upon a mind, upon a being of another nature 
 and infinitely more excellent than it. Thus, it is clear that, in 
 the union of soul and body, there is no other bond than 
 the efficacy of divine and immutable decrees, an efficacy never 
 without its effects. God has then willed, and wills without 
 ceasing, that the various disturbances of the brain shall always 
 be followed by the various thoughts of the mind with which 
 it is in union. And it is this constant and efficient will of the 
 Creator which causes the union of these two substances. For 
 there is no other nature, I mean no other natural laws, than the 
 efficient volitions of the Omnipotent. 
 
 XII. Do not ask, Aristes, why God wills to unite minds to 
 bodies. The fact is unquestionable, but the principal reasons 
 for it hitherto have remained unknown to philosophy, and 
 perhaps even religion does not teach us. There is, however, 
 one reason which it may be well to offer to you. God apparently 
 desired to give us, in respect to His Son, a victim which we could 
 offer to Him, He desired to give us an opportunity of meriting 
 by a kind of sacrifice and annihilation of self the possession of 
 eternal happiness. This, assuredly, seems just and in conformity 
 with the order of things. Now we are on our trial in our body. 
 It is through it, as occasional cause, that we receive from God 
 thousands upon thousands of different feelings which through 
 the grace of Jesus Christ constitute the occasion of our merits. 
 As I will prove to you presently, the general cause was in need of 
 an occasional cause, in order that, although always acting in a 
 uniform and constant manner, it should be able to produce in 
 His work by very simple means, and according to laws which are 
 always the same, an infinity of different effects. It is, however, 
 
 * Dialogue VIII. 
 
ON METAPHYSICS 131 
 
 by no means the case that God could find no other occasional 
 causes than bodies, in order to give to His procedure that simplicity 
 and uniformity which characterise it. There are, indeed, other such 
 causes in the angelic nature. These blessed spirits are perhaps 
 reciprocally to one another and to themselves, by means of the 
 different movements of their will, the occasional cause of the 
 action of God who enlightens them and governs them. But let 
 us not speak of what is beyond us. This, however, I can say 
 without fear, and it is absolutely necessary in order to make clear 
 the subject of our discussion, and I beg of you to keep it well in 
 mind so that you can meditate upon it at your leisure. 
 
 XIII. God loves order inviolably and by the necessity of 
 His being. He loves, He esteems all things in proportion 
 as they are worthy of esteem or love. He hates disorder 
 necessarily. This is perhaps clearer and more indisputable 
 than the proof I will give you some day,* and which I pass by 
 at present, But it is obviously a violation of order, that a 
 mind which is capable of knowing and loving God, and which is 
 consequently made for this purpose, should be compelled to 
 occupy itself with the needs of the body. Hence, as the soul is 
 united, to the body and is bound to interest itself in its preserva- 
 tion, it was necessary that it should be given warnings which 
 are instinctive—I mean warnings which are prompt but con- 
 vincing of the relation in which the bodies of our environment 
 stand to those which we animate. 
 
 XIV. God alone is our light and the cause of our happiness. 
 He possesses the perfections of all beings. He has the ideas of 
 them all. He contains, therefore, in His wisdom all truths, 
 speculative or practical; for all these truths are nothing but 
 relations of magnitude and perfection which subsist between the 
 ideas, as I will prove to you presently.” He alone, then, ought to 
 be the object of attention of our mind, since He alone is capable 
 of enlightening it and of regulating all its movements, since He 
 alone is above us. Assuredly, a mind occupied with created things, 
 turning its attention towards created things, however excellent 
 they may be, is not in the order in which God requires it to be, nor 
 in the state in which God has placed it. But, if we had to examine 
 all the relations which the bodies of our environment have to 
 
 * Cf, Dialogue VIII. * Ibid, 
 
182 FOURTH DIALOGUE 
 
 a given position of our own, in order to discover whether and 
 how and to what an extent we ought to have commerce with 
 them, that would take up a good deal of our time, indeed, 
 it would entirely usurp the capacity of the mind. And, assuredly, 
 our body would not be the better for it. It would soon be 
 destroyed in some unforeseen manner; for our wants change so 
 often and sometimes so quickly that it would require a vigilance 
 of which we are incapable not to be overtaken by some fatal 
 accident. When would one think of eating, for example, or 
 of what to eat or when to cease eating? How busy would a 
 mind which guides and exercises its body be if it had to know, 
 at every step which the body is made to take, that it is moving 
 in a fluid air which cannot wound it or trouble it with cold or 
 heat, wind or rain, or with some malignant or corrupt vapour; 
 that there is not at each spot where the person wishes to place 
 his foot a sharp or hard body capable of hurting him; that he 
 must lower the head promptly to avoid a stone, and look after his 
 equilibrium to prevent himself from falling! A man always occu- 
 pied in this way with the whole mechanism of his body and with 
 an infinity of objects in his environment could never think of the 
 true goods, or at any rate could not think of the true goods as 
 much as they demand or consequently as much as is their due, 
 seeing that our mind is made and can only be made for the 
 purpose of occupying itself with those goods which can illumine it 
 or make it happy. 
 
 XV. Thus, it is evident that God, willing to conjoin minds 
 with bodies, had to establish for an occasional cause of the con- 
 fused awareness we have of the presence of objects and of their 
 properties as in relation to us, not our attention which deserves 
 clear and distinct knowledge, but the various disturbances 
 in these same bodies. He had to give us distinct proofs not 
 of the nature or properties of the things around us but of the 
 relation in which they stand to us, so that we should be able 
 to work successfully for the preservation of life without having 
 to pay incessant attention to our needs. He had, so to speak, 
 to undertake the task of warning us at the proper time and 
 place, by means of anticipatory feelings, of all that concerns 
 the good of the body, so as to give us full opportunity to occupy 
 ourselves in the pursuit of the true goods. He had to give 
 us curt warnings of all that concerns the body, so as to convince 
 
ON METAPHYSICS 133 
 
 us promptly, vivid proofs so as to determine us effectively, certain 
 and irrefutable proofs so as to preserve us more surely; yet proofs 
 which are confused, although indubitable, not of the relations 
 which subsist between the objects themselves, in which relations 
 the evidence of truth consists, but of the relations in which they 
 stand to our body situated as it is atthe time. I make the latter 
 reservation because we find, for example, or ought to find, tepid 
 water warm if we touch it with a cold hand, and cold if we touch 
 it with a warm hand. We find it, or ought to find it, pleasant 
 when thirsty ; but when our thirst is quenched we find it tasteless 
 and unpleasant. Let us admire, then, Aristes, the wisdom of the 
 laws of the conjunction of soul and body; and, though all our 
 senses should tell us that sense qualities are in the objects, let 
 us attribute to corporeal things only what we see clearly belongs to 
 them, after having consulted the ideas which represent them. For 
 since the senses give us different accounts of the same things 
 according to the interest which they have in them, since they 
 invariably contradict themselves when the welfare of the body 
 requires, we must regard them as false witnesses with reference 
 to truth, but as faithful monitors so far as the preservation and 
 the conveniences of life are concerned. 
 
 XVI. ARIsTES. How moved Iam by what you are telling 
 me and how abashed at having been all my life the dupe of 
 these false witnesses! But they speak with so much assurance 
 and force that they bring, so to speak, conviction and certitude to 
 our minds. They issue commands with so much haughtiness and 
 alacrity that one yields without examination. How can one enter 
 into oneself when they are calling upon us and luring us outward? 
 How can one hear the deliverances of inner truth in the midst of 
 the noise and the tumult which they cause ? You have explained 
 to me that light cannot be a modification of corporeal things. 
 But as soon as I open my eyes I begin to doubt this truth. The 
 sun which strikes my eyes dazzles me and disconcerts all my ideas. 
 I understand now that if I pressed the point of this pin on my 
 hand, all that it could do would be to make a small hole in it. 
 Yet if I did so really it seems to me that it would give rise to much 
 pain. I assuredly could not doubt this at the moment of the prick. 
 What power and force the senses possess to lead us into error! 
 What disorder, Theodore! And yet even in this disorder the 
 wisdom of the Creator shines forth brilliantly. It was neces- 
 
184 FOURTH DIALOGUE 
 
 sary that light and colours should be spread over objects so that 
 they could be distinguished without difficulty. It was necessary 
 that fruits should be as though they possessed flavours in order 
 that they should be eaten with pleasure. It was necessary that 
 pain should penetrate to the pricked finger in order that the 
 strength of the feeling should warn us to withdraw it. There 
 is, then, an infinite wisdom in this order established by God. I 
 agree, I cannot doubt it. But at the same time I find a disorder 
 which is very great and which seems to me unworthy of the 
 wisdom and the goodness of our God. For, after all, for us 
 unhappy creatures this order is a fruitful source of errors and 
 the inevitable cause of the greatest evils of life. The tip of my 
 finger is pricked, and I suffer, I am unhappy, I am incapable of 
 thinking of the true good. My soul can attend to nothing but 
 my injured finger and is entirely filled with pain. What a strange 
 misfortune! A mind to depend upon a body and because of 
 it to lose the sight of truth! To have one’s attention divided, 
 indeed to be more occupied with one’s finger than with the 
 real end of one’s being! What disorder, Theodore! There is 
 assuredly some mystery in all this. I beseech you to unravel 
 it for me. 
 
 XVII. THEODORE. Yes, without a doubt there is some 
 mystery in this. How much philosophers are indebted to religion, 
 my dear Aristes, for it alone can help them out of the perplexity 
 in which they find themselves! Everything in the procedure of 
 God seems to be self-contradictory and nothing to be uniform 
 any longer. Good and evil—I speak of physical evil—have not 
 two different principles. It is the same God who gives rise to both 
 by means of the same laws. But sin brings it about that God, 
 without effecting any change in His laws, becomes for all sinners 
 the just avenger of their crimes. I cannot tell you at present 
 all that would be necessary in order to make the matter thoroughly 
 clear. I will, however, state the solution of your difficulty in a 
 few words. 
 
 God is wise. He judges all things well. He esteems them 
 in exact proportion to the degree in which they are worthy of 
 esteem. He loves them in proportion as they are worthy of 
 love. In a word, God loves order invincibly. He follows it 
 inviolably. He cannot belie Himself. He cannot sin. Now, minds 
 are worthier than corporeal things, hence (observe this), though 
 
ON METAPHYSICS 135 
 
 God can conjoin minds and bodies, He cannot subject the former 
 to the latter. That a prick should serve as a reminder and warning 
 to me is just and conformable to order, but that it should afflict 
 me and make me unhappy, that it should absorb me despite 
 myself, that it should disconcert my ideas and hinder me from 
 thinking of the truly good,—that certainly is a violation of order. 
 Such a thing is unworthy of the wisdom and goodness of the 
 Creator. Thisreason tells me quite clearly. Nevertheless, experi- 
 ence convinces me that my mind depends on my body. I suffer, 
 I am unhappy, I am incapable of thought when I am pricked, 
 of this there can be no doubt. We have, then, here a flagrant 
 contradiction between the certainty of experience and the evidence 
 of reason. See, however, the solution. The mind of man has 
 lost its worth and its excellence in the eyes of God. We are no 
 longer such as God originally made us. We are born in sin and 
 corruption, deserving of the divine anger and totally unworthy of 
 thinking of God, of loving Him, of adoring Him, of delighting in 
 Him. He wills no longer to be our good and the cause of our 
 happiness ; and if Heis still the cause of our being and does not 
 annihilate us, it is because in Hisclemency He has given us a means 
 of reparation through which we can have access to Him, intercourse 
 with Him, community of true goods with Him, in accordance with 
 the eternal decree by which He has resolved to reunite all things 
 in our divine leader, the MamGod, predestined from all 
 eternity to be the foundation, the architect, the victim and the 
 sovereign Priest of the spiritual temple wherein the divine Majesty 
 will dwell for evermore. Thus, reason disposes of this terrible 
 contradiction which has disturbed you so much. It renders 
 intelligible for us the sublimest truth. But this is because 
 faith leads us to understanding, and because by its authority 
 it changes our doubt and our uncertain and perplexing experiences 
 into conviction and certitude. 
 
 XVIII. Hold fast then, Aristes, to the thought which reason 
 has engendered within you, the thought, namely, that the infinitely 
 perfect Being follows for ever an order immutable as its law, 
 and that thus He can well conjoin that which is most noble with 
 that which is least noble, the mind with the body, but that He 
 cannot subject the former to the latter, that He cannot deprive 
 it of liberty and of the exercise of its most excellent functions, 
 that He cannot so absorb it as to prevent it, even by the most 
 
136 FOURTH DIALOGUE 
 
 cruel pains, losing sight of its supreme good for the vilest of 
 created things. And conclude from all this that before the Fall 
 there were exceptions favourable to man in the laws of 
 the conjunction of soul and body. Or, rather, conclude from 
 all this that there was a law, since abolished, according to 
 which the will of man was the occasional cause of that 
 arrangement of the brain in which the soul is immune from 
 the action of objects, though the body be affected by them, 
 and thus the soul was never interrupted, despite the body, in its 
 meditation and ecstacy. Do you not feel in yourself some 
 remnant of this power when you are deeply absorbed in any- 
 thing and the light of truth penetrates you and delights you ? 
 Probably noise, colours, odours, or any other of the less pressing 
 and less vivid sensations, are then hardly capable of interrupting 
 you. Yet you are not above pain, you find it unpleasant despite 
 all efforts of the mind. I speak of you, Aristes, relying on my 
 own experiences. But in order to speak fairly of man when 
 innocent and made in the image of God, we must consult the 
 divine ideas of the immutable order of things. It is there that 
 we can find the model of a perfect man such as our father, Adam, 
 was before his sin. Our senses disconcert our ideas and tire our 
 attention. But to Adam they spoke with respect. They became 
 silent at the least sign. They did not even give him warning 
 of the approach of certain objects if he wished it so. He could 
 eat without pleasure, look without seeing, sleep without dreaming 
 of all the vain phantoms that disconcert our minds or trouble our 
 repose.* These are no paradoxes. Consult reason, and do not 
 judge, on the basis of what you feel in a disorderly body, of the 
 state of the first man in whom everything conformed to the 
 immutable order which God follows inviolably. We are sinners, 
 but I speak of man in his innocence. The order of things 
 does not permit that the mind should be deprived of the liberty 
 of its thoughts while the body recoups its strength during sleep. 
 The righteous man thought, during this as well as during any other 
 time, of whatsoever he wished. Since man, however, has become 
 a sinner, he no longer deserves that on his account there should 
 be any exceptions to the laws of nature. He deserves to be 
 deprived of all power over an inferior nature, since he has 
 through rebellion made himself the most despicable of creatures; 
 
 * Van-Helmont, Imago Dei. 
 
ON METAPHYSICS 137 
 
 he deserves not only to be reduced to nothing but to be 
 brought to a state which for him would be worse than 
 nothing. 
 
 XIX. Do not cease, then, to admire the wisdom and the 
 wonderful order of the laws of the conjunction of soul and body, 
 through which we have so many different sensations of the objects 
 of our environment. They are very wise. Considering them 
 in their original form, they were even advantageous for us in 
 every sense; and it is right that they should remain after 
 the Fall, though they have sad consequences, for the uniformity 
 of God’s action ought not to be dependent upon the irregularity 
 of ours. But after man’s rebellion it was not right that the body 
 should be perfectly amenable to him. This ought not to be 
 except in so far as it is necessary for the sinner to preserve 
 his wretched life for some time and to perpetuate the human 
 species until the consummation of the work in which posterity is 
 to enter by the merits and the power of the coming Redeemer. 
 For, all these generations which follow one another, all these 
 lands which are peopled by idolaters, the whole natural order 
 of the universe which is preserved, have being only in order 
 to furnish to Jesus Christ an abundance of material necessary 
 for the construction of the eternal temple. A day will come 
 when the descendants of the most barbarous peoples will be 
 enlightened by the light of the Gospel, and when they will enter 
 as a host into the Church of the Elect. Our fathers died in 
 idolatry, and we recognise the true God and our adorable Saviour. 
 The arm of the Lord is not shortened. His power will extend 
 to the most distant nations; and perhaps our descendants will 
 relapse into darkness as the light illumines the new world. But 
 let me recapitulate, Aristes, in a few words the principal things 
 which I have told you, so that you may retain them without 
 difficulty and make them the subject of your meditations. 
 
 XX. Man is made up of two substances, mind and body. 
 Thus, there are two quite different kinds of goods to distinguish 
 and to examine, those of the mind and those of the body. God 
 has, moreover, given to man two very safe means for discerning 
 these different goods, namely, reason for the goods of the mind, the 
 senses for those of the body, clearness of light for the true goods, 
 and a confused instinct for the false goods. I call the goods of the 
 
1388 FOURTH DIALOGUE 
 
 body false goods or deceiving goods because they are not such 
 as they appear to our senses; and, though they be good with 
 reference to the preservation of life, they have not this power 
 for good in consequence of their own nature but in consequence 
 of the divine will or of the natural laws of which they are the 
 occasional causes. I cannot now explain this further. But it 
 was fit that the mind should sensuously perceive qualities to be in 
 corporeal things, though these things do not really possess them, 
 in order that it should not indeed love or fear them, but take 
 them up or reject them according to the pressing needs of the 
 machine, the delicate springs of which require a vigilant and 
 prompt watch. In order that the mind should take interest 
 in the preservation of the body, it was necessary that it 
 should have a kind of reward for the service which it rendered 
 to that body which God has required it to preserve. This is 
 now the cause of our errors and prejudices. This is the cause 
 which brings it about that, not content to take up certain cor- 
 poreal things, and to withdraw from others, we are foolish enough 
 to love or fear them. In aword, this is the cause of the corruption 
 of our heart, all movements of which should be directed towards 
 God, and of the blindness of our soul, the whole of whose thoughts 
 should be engaged with nothing but light. If we are careful we 
 may note that it is because we do not make of the means of 
 which I have just spoken the use for which God has given them to 
 us, and because instead of consulting our reason in order to discover 
 truth, instead of listening only to the evidence which accompanies 
 all clear ideas, we yield to a confused and deceiving instinct, 
 reliable only so far as the goods of the body are concerned. Now 
 this the first man did not do before his sin ; for without a doubt 
 he did not confuse the modifications of which the mind is 
 capable with the modifications of extension. His ideas, then, 
 were not confused, and his senses, being in perfect submission, 
 did not hinder him from consulting reason. 
 
 XXI. At present the mind is punished just as it is rewarded 
 through its connection withthe body. If we are pricked, we suffer, 
 however great an effort we make not to think of the matter. 
 That is true ; but, as I have said before, it is so because it is 
 not right that there should be any exceptions to the laws of nature 
 in favour of a rebel, or, rather, that we should have a power over 
 our body which we do not deserve. Suffice it for us, that by 
 
ON METAPHYSICS 139 
 
 the grace of Jesus Christ, the troubles to which we are subject 
 to-day will be to-morrow the means of our triumph and our 
 glory. Weare not sensible of the true goods. Meditation shocks 
 us. We are not naturally moved by an anticipation of pleasure 
 where that which perfects our minds is concerned. The true good 
 deserves to be loved by reason alone. It should be loved with 
 a love which is deliberate, with an enlightened love, and not 
 with that blind love which instinct inspires. It surely deserves our 
 application and ourcare. It hasno need, as corporeal things have, 
 of borrowed qualities, in order to make itself loved by those who 
 know it perfectly ; andif at present we have, in order to love it, 
 to be reminded of spiritual delectation, it is because we are weak 
 and corrupt, because lust leads us astray, and because in order 
 to conquer it it is necessary that God should inspire us 
 with desires which are altogether holy; it is so because, dragged 
 down as we are towards the earth by a heavy weight, we need 
 a counter-balancing weight to lift us towards heaven, if we are 
 ever to regain the equilibrium of perfect freedom. 
 
 XXII. Let us, therefore, my dear Aristes, incessantly enter 
 into ourselves, and endeavour to silence not only our senses 
 but our imagination and our passions. I have spoken only of 
 the senses, because it is from them that the imagination and the 
 passions derive all the malignant influence and power which 
 they have. Generally, all that comes to the mind through the 
 body solely as a result of natural laws is for the body alone. 
 We need not, therefore, give any attention to it. But let us 
 follow the light of reason which ought to guide the judgments 
 of our mind and regulate the movements of our heart. We 
 must distinguish the soul from the body and the very different 
 modifications of which these two substances are capable, and 
 reflect often upon the wonderful order and wisdom of the general 
 laws of their conjunction. It is by reflections of this kind that 
 one obtains a knowledge of one’s self and that one gets rid of 
 an infinite number of prejudices. It is by their means that 
 one learns to know man; and we have to live amongst men and 
 with ourselves. It is by their means that the whole universe 
 appears to our mind in the way it does, that it appears, 
 Isay, stripped of a thousand beauties which appertain to us alone, 
 but with contrivances and movements which arouse admiration 
 in us for the wisdom of their author. Lastly, it is, as we have 
 
140 FOURTH DIALOGUE 
 
 just seen, by their means that one recognises vividly not only 
 the corruption of nature and the need of a Mediator—two great 
 principles of our faith—but an infinity of other truths which 
 are essential to religion and morality. Continue, then, Aristes, 
 to meditate, as you have already begun to do, and you will see 
 the truth of what I have told you. You will see that the profes- 
 sion of meditation ought to be that of all rational persons. 
 
 ARISTES. This word ‘‘ meditation ’”’ troubles me, now that I 
 partly understand what you have told me, and that I am so 
 moved by it. Owing to the blind contempt that I had for reason, 
 I thought, Theodore, that you were labouring under a kind of 
 illusion, and I was bound to treat you and some of your friends 
 as dreamers (médttatifs). I thought it was clever and witty to 
 poke fun in that way; and I am sure you know quite well what 
 is meant by that sort of thing. I assure you, nevertheless, that 
 I did not wish this epithet to be applied to you; and that I have 
 removed the bad effect of the term (raillerie) by means of eulogies 
 which were earnest and which I have always believed to be true. 
 
 THEODORE. I amsureofit, Aristes. You have amused your- 
 self a little at my expense. Iam glad. But I think that to-day 
 you will not be sorry to learn that this has cost you more than it 
 has cost me. Do you know there was present in that company 
 one of these ‘“‘ meditators,’’ who as soon as you had gone felt 
 himself obliged, not to defend me, but the honour of the universal 
 Reason against whom you offended by trying to turn people 
 against consulting it? At first when the ‘ meditator”’ had 
 spoken everybody rose to defend you. Yet, after he had endured 
 some jokes and the contemptuous airs inspired by the imagination 
 when in revolt against reason, he pleaded the cause of reason so 
 well that imagination yielded. They did not jeer at you, Aristes. 
 The *‘ meditator ’’ appeared grieved by your blindness. Astothe 
 others, they were somewhat moved by anger, so that if you 
 are still of the same mind—you are far from being so—I should 
 advise you not to go to Philander’s to air your jokes and com- 
 monplaces against reason, in order to throw ridicule upon the 
 taciturn “‘ meditators,” 
 
 ARISTES. Depend upon it, Theodore! I am glad to learn 
 this news. The evil which I am afraid that I did was soon 
 remedied. But to whom am I obliged for this favour? Is it 
 not to Theotimus ? 
 
 THEODORE. You will know as soon as I am quite convinced 
 
ON METAPHYSICS 141 
 
 that your love for the truth will be great enough to extend even 
 to those to whom you owe this somewhat ambiguous obligation. 
 
 ARISTES. This obligation is not ambiguous. I protest 
 that if it is Theotimus, I shall love him for it and esteem him 
 for it all the more, since, the more I meditate upon the matter, 
 the more I feel the growth of my inclination towards those 
 who are in search of truth, those whom I called “‘ meditators ”’ 
 when I was foolish enough to regard as dreamers those who 
 give to reason the assiduity which is its due. Oblige me, therefore, 
 by telling me who this good man is who wanted to spare me the 
 confusion which I deserved and also upheld the honour of reason 
 so well without throwing ridicule upon me. I should like to 
 have him as a friend, I should like to earn his good graces, and 
 if I cannot accomplish this, I should at least hke him to know 
 that I am no longer such as I was. 
 
 THEODORE. Very well, then, Aristes, he shall know it. And 
 if you want to be among the number of the “ meditators,’’ I can 
 promise that he will also be among the number of your good 
 friends. Meditate, and all will be well. You will win him over 
 soon when he sees in you some enthusiasm for truth, submission 
 to faith, and a profound respect for our common Master, 
 
FIFTH DIALOGUE 
 
 The function of the senses in the sciences—Our sensations contain a clear 
 idea and a confused feeling—The idea does not belong to the sen- 
 sation—It is the idea which enlightens the mind and the feeling which 
 stimulates it and renders it attentive; for it is by means of feeling 
 that the intelligible idea becomes sensible. 
 
 ARISTES. I have made great way since you left me, Theodore. 
 I have discovered land. I have reviewed in a general manner all 
 the objects of my senses, under the guidance, as it seems to 
 me, of my reason alone. I have never been more surprised, 
 though I have already become somewhat accustomed to these new 
 discoveries. Good God! What poverty I recognised in what 
 till a few days ago I thought finished excellence, but what 
 wisdom, what grandeur, what wonderful features, in all that 
 the world despises! The man who sees only with his eyes is 
 indeed a stranger in his own country. He admires everything, 
 and knows nothing, too happy if what startles him does not 
 bring death with it. Perpetual illusions arise from the objects 
 of sense, everything deceives us, everything poisons us, every- 
 thing speaks to the soul only for the sake of the body. Reason 
 alone obscures nothing. How pleased I am with it and with 
 you for having taught me to consult it, for having lifted me 
 above my senses and above myself, so as to contemplate its 
 light! I have recognised very clearly, it seems to me, the truth 
 of all that you have told me. Yes, Theodore, I am indeed pleased 
 to tell you: the human mind is enveloped in darkness, its own 
 modifications do not illumine it, its substance, spiritual though 
 it be, has nothing intelligible in it, its senses, its imagination, 
 its passions, lead it astray at every moment. To-day I believe 
 I am in the position to assure you that I am fully convinced, . 
 I speak to you with the confidence which the sight of the truth 
 gives me. Try me and see whether I am too bold in speaking 
 
 after this fashion. 
 142 
 
ON METAPHYSICS 143 
 
 I. THEODORE. I believe what you are telling me, Aristes ; for 
 I feel sure that an hour’s serious meditation is sufficient to lead 
 a mind like yours a long way. Nevertheless, in order to give me 
 greater assurance of the progress you have made, please answer 
 me. You see this line AB. Let it be divided in two parts at 
 the point C, or at any other point. I will prove to you that the 
 square of the whole is equal to the squares of each of the parts, 
 together with the two parallelograms formed on the two parts. 
 
 ARISTES. What are you establishing by this? Who does 
 not know that to multiply a whole is the same as to multiply 
 its parts ? 
 
 THEODORE. You know it. But let us suppose you do not 
 know it. I wish to make your eyes see the proof, and thus to 
 show you that the senses are capable of making you see the 
 truth clearly. 
 
 ARISTES. Let us see, 
 
 THEODORE. Look carefully. That is all I ask. Without 
 entering into yourself to consult reason, you will discover an 
 evident truth, ABODE is the square of AB. But the square 
 equals all that it contains. It is equal to itself. Therefore it 
 is equal to the two other squares on each of the parts m and n, 
 and to the two parallelograms formed on the parts AC and CB. 
 
 
 
 ARISTES. This stares me_in the face. 
 
 THEODORE. Very good. But, what is more, it is evident. 
 Hence, there are evident truths which ‘stare you in the face.” 
 Thus, obviously, our senses do teach us truth. 
 
144 FIFTH DIALOGUE 
 
 ARISTES. A beautiful truth this is indeed and so difficult to dis- 
 cover! Have you nothing but that to say in defence of the senses ? 
 
 THEODORE. You do not answer, Aristes. It is not reason 
 which inspires this evasion. ForI ask you, is not that an evident 
 truth which your senses have just taught you ? 
 
 ARISTES. Nothing easier. 
 
 THEODORE. Because our senses are excellent teachers. They 
 have easy ways of teaching the truth. Reason, on the other hand, 
 with its clear ideas leaves usin the dark. This, Aristes, is what one 
 would say to you. Prove to an ignorant man, one would say, 
 that the square, for example, of I0 equals the squares of 4 
 and 6, plus twice the product of these numbers. These ideas 
 of numbers are clear, and the truth to be proved is the same. 
 as if you were dealing with a line before you of a length of 10 
 inches which you divided into two parts of 4 and 6 inches 
 respectively. Nevertheless, you see that there will be some 
 difficulty in making it intelligible because this principle, that 
 to multiply a number by itself is the same thing as to multiply 
 all its parts separately by themselves, is not as clear as the prin- 
 ciple that a square equals all the figures which it contains. And 
 that is what your eyes teach you, as you have just seen. 
 
 II. But if in your opinion the theorem which your eyes have 
 taught you is too easy, here is another which is more difficult. 
 I am going to prove to you that the square on the diagonal 
 of a square is double the squares on the sides. Open your eyes, 
 that is all I ask you. 
 
 
 
 
 
ON METAPHYSICS 145 
 
 Look at the figures. Do not your eyes tell you that all these 
 triangles, a, b,c, d, e, f, g,h,1, which I take to have and which you 
 see have each of thema right angle and two lines equal, are equal 
 to one another? SBut you see that the square described on 
 the diagonal AB has four of these triangles, while the squares 
 described on the sides have two. Therefore, the large square 
 is double that of the others. 
 
 ARISTES. Yes, Theodore. But you are reasoning. 
 
 THEODORE. I am reasoning? I look and I see what I am 
 telling you. I reason, if you like, but I do so on the basis of the 
 faithful testimony of my senses. Only open your eyes and look 
 at what I am showing you. This triangle d equals e, and ¢ equals 
 6, and on the other hand d equals f and f equals g. Hence, the 
 small square equals half the large one. The same holds good 
 with the other side. This stares one in the face, as you put it. 
 To discover this truth it is sufficient to look carefully at the 
 figure, and compare by the help of the movement of the eyes 
 the parts of which it is made up. It follows that our senses 
 are able to teach us the truth. 
 
 ARISTES. I deny this conclusion, Theodore. It is not the 
 senses, but reason combined with the senses, which enlightens 
 us and reveals the truth to us. Do you not think that in the 
 sensuous view which we have of the figure there is involved at 
 the same time the conjunction of the clear idea of extension 
 with the confused feeling of the colour by which we are affected ? 
 Now, it is from the clear idea of extension, and not from the 
 black and white which make it perceptible by the senses, that 
 we discover the relations in which this truth consists, from the 
 clear idea of extension, I say, which reason possesses, and not 
 from the black and white, which are only sensations, or confused 
 modifications of our senses, the relations of which it is impossible 
 to discover. There is always present, on the one hand, a clear 
 idea and, on the other hand, a confused feeling in the view which 
 we have of sensible objects—an idea which represents their 
 essence and the feeling which admonishes us of their existence— 
 an idea which acquaints us with their nature, their properties, 
 the relations which they have or may have to one another, in 
 a word, atruth and a sensation, which latter makes us feel their 
 difference and the bearing which they have upon the conveni- 
 ences and preservation of life. 
 
 10 
 
146 FIFTH DIALOGUE 
 
 III. THEODORE. Isee from your reply that you have covered 
 much ground since yesterday. I am satisfied with you, Aristes. 
 But, I ask you, is not this colour which you see upon the paper 
 itself extended ? Certainly, I see it as extended. Now, this 
 being so, I shall be able clearly to discover the relations between 
 its parts without thinking of the extension which reason contains. 
 The extension of the colour will be sufficient for me, through my 
 acquaintance with physics and geometry. 
 
 ArRIsTEsS. I deny, Theodore, that the colour 1s extended. 
 We see it as extended, but our eyes deceive us, for the mind 
 will never understand how extension can belong to colour. We 
 see this whiteness as extended, but it is because we intro- 
 duce it into extension owing to the fact that it is through this 
 feeling on the part of the soul that we see the paper; or, rather, 
 it is because intelligible extension touches the soul and modifies 
 it in a certain way, and through this modification the intelligible 
 extension becomes sensible to the soul. What, Theodore! 
 Would you say that pain is extended because when one has 
 gout or rheumatism one feels it as extended ? Would you say 
 that sound is extended because one hears it as filling the whole 
 air? Would you say that light is extended over all those large 
 spaces because they all look to us luminous ? Since we are dealing 
 here with modifications or feelings of the soul, and since the 
 soul does not derive from its own resources the idea which 
 it has of extension, all these qualities are introduced into 
 extension and cause it to be felt by the soul, but they are in no 
 way extended. 
 
 IV. THEODORE. I agree with you, Aristes, that colour, just 
 like pain, is not locally extended. Forsince experience teaches us 
 that one can feel pain in an arm which one has no longer, and 
 that at night, when asleep, we see colours as extended over 
 imaginary objects, it is evident that these are only feelings or 
 sensations of the soul which certainly does not fill all the 
 places which it sees, since it does not fill any at all, and since 
 the modifications of a substance cannot be where the substance 
 is not. This is beyond dispute. Pain cannot be locally ex- 
 tended in my arm nor colours over the surface of bodies. But 
 why do you not think that they are, so to speak, sensibly extended 
 —just as the idea of bodies, i.e. intelligible extension, is extended 
 intelligibly ? Why do you not think that the light which I see 
 
ON METAPHYSICS 147 
 
 when I press the corner of my eye, or otherwise, carries with it 
 the sensible space which it occupies? Why do you think that it 
 must be referred to intelligible extension? In a word, why do 
 you think that it is the idea or archetype of bodies which touches 
 the soul when it sees or feels the sensible qualities as diffused 
 in bodies? 
 
 ARISTES. Because only the archetype of bodies can represent 
 their nature, because only the universal Reason can enlighten me 
 through the manifestation of its ideas. The substance of the soul 
 has nothing in common with matter. The mind does not contain 
 the perfections of all the entities which it can know. But there 
 is nothing which does not participate in the Divine Being. God 
 sees all things in Himself. The soul, on the other hand, cannot 
 see all things in itself. It can only discover them in the divine 
 and universal Reason. Hence, the extension which I feel and see 
 does not belong to me. Else I could, in contemplating myself, 
 know the works of God. I could, by considering my own 
 modifications attentively, become acquainted with physics and 
 several sciences which consist only in the knowledge of the 
 relations of extension, as you know quite well. In a word, I 
 should be a light unto myself, and I cannot think of that 
 without a kind of horror. But, Theodore, kindly clear up the 
 difficulty which you have put before me. 
 
 V. THEODORE, It is impossible to do this directly. For 
 it would be necessary that the idea or archetype of the soul 
 should be disclosed to us. We should, then, see clearly that pain, 
 colour, taste and the other feelings or sensations, of the soul, have 
 nothing in common with the extension which we feelis joined with 
 them. We should see intuitively that there is as much difference 
 between the extension which we see and the colour which renders 
 it perceptible by us as between the numbers—for example, the 
 infinite, or any other intelligible idea that you please—and the 
 perception which we have of them; and we should see at the 
 same time that our ideas are quite different from our perceptions 
 or feelings—a truth which we can only discover by serious 
 reflection and a long and difficult process of reasoning. 
 
 But, in order to prove to you indirectly that our feelings 
 or sensations do not contain the idea of extension to which 
 they are referred, let us suppose that you are looking at the 
 colour of your hand, and that at the same time you feel some 
 
148 FIFTH DIALOGUE 
 
 pain; you would see the colour of your hand as extended, and 
 at the same time you would feel the pain as extended Do 
 you not agree? 
 
 ARISTES. Yes, Theodore, and even if I touched it I should 
 still feel it as extended ; and if I dipped it into warm or cold 
 water I should feel the heat and cold as extended. 
 
 THEODORE. Observe, then. Pain is not colour, nor colour 
 heat, nor heat cold. Now, the extension of the colour which 
 you see when you look at your hand is the same as that of the 
 pain, heat or cold which you might thus feel. Hence this exten- 
 sion belongs neither to the colour, the pain, nor to any other 
 of your feelings. For you would feel as many different exten- 
 sions as you had feelings, if our feelings were extended in them- 
 selves, as they appear to be, or if the coloured extension which 
 we see were not merely a sensation of the soul, like colour, pain, 
 or taste, as some of the Cartesians, who know quite well that 
 we cannot see objects in themselves, imagine. It is, then, 
 Aristes, a single and unique extension which affects us in different 
 ways, which acts upon our soul and modifies it through colour, 
 heat, pain, etc. But it is not the bodies which we see that 
 affect us with these different feelings. For we often see bodies 
 which do not exist. Moreover, it is evident that bodies cannot 
 act upon the mind, modify or enlighten it, make it happy or 
 unhappy by means of agreeable or disagreeable feelings. Neither 
 does the soul act upon itself and modify itself by means of pain, 
 colour, etc. This needs no proof after what has been said 
 already. It is, then, the idea or archetype of bodies which 
 affects us in different ways. I mean it is the intelligible sub- 
 stance of Reason which acts upon our minds throughits omnipo- 
 tent efficacy and which touches it and modifies it with colour, 
 taste and pain, by aid of that within it which is representative 
 of bodies. 
 
 It is, therefore, no matter for surprise, my dear Aristes, to 
 find that you can learn some clear truths through the testimony of 
 the senses. For though the substance of the soul be not intelligible 
 to the soul itself, and its modifications cannot enlighten it, yet, 
 because these modifications are joined to the intelligible exten- 
 sion which is the archetype of bodies, and render it sensible, they 
 can reveal to us the relations between them—which relations 
 constitute the truths of geometry and physics. But it is always 
 true to say that the soul cannot be its own light, that its modi- 
 
ON METAPHYSICS 149 
 
 fications are but obscure, and that it can discover exact truths 
 only in the ideas which the universal Reason contains. 
 
 VI. Artistes. I think I understand what you are saying. 
 Yet as it is abstract I shall meditate upon it at my leisure. 
 It is not pain or colour in itself which teaches me the 
 relations that subsist between bodies. I can discover these 
 relations only in the idea of extension which represents them, 
 and this idea, though joined to colour and pain, the feelings or 
 sensations which render it sensible, is not a modification. This 
 idea becomes sensible or makes itself felt only because the intel- 
 ligible substance of Reason acts upon the soul and impresses 
 upon it such and such a modification or feeling, and thereby 
 reveals to it, so to speak, though in a confused way, that a 
 certain body exists. For when ideas of bodies become sensible, 
 we conclude that there are bodies which act upon us, 
 whereas when these ideas are intelligible only, we naturally 
 believe that there is nothing outside of us which is acting upon 
 us. The reason of this is, it seems to me, that it depends upon 
 ourselves whether we think of extension, while it does not depend 
 upon ourselves whether we feelit. Since we feel extension despite 
 ourselves there must be something other than ourselves which im- 
 presses this feeling upon us. Now, we believe that this other thing 
 is nothing but what we actually feelh Whence we conclude that 
 it is the bodies of our environment that cause in us the feelings or 
 sensations which we have of them; but in this we are always 
 mistaken. We do not doubt the existence of these bodies, and 
 in this, too, we are often mistaken. But as we think of bodies 
 and imagine them, whenever we will, we conclude that it is our 
 volitions which are the true cause of the ideas which we have 
 of them, and of the images which we form of them. And the 
 inner feeling which we have of the actual effect of our attention 
 confirms us in this false thought. Though God alone can act 
 upon us and enlighten us, yet because His operation is not sensible, 
 we attribute to the objects all that He performs within us without 
 our aid, and we attribute to our own power whatever He performs 
 within us in consequence of our volitions. What do you think, 
 Theodore, of this reflection ? 
 
 VII. THEODORE. Itis very judicious, Aristes, and comes from 
 athinker. Butlet us return to the sensuous demonstration which 
 
150 FIFTH DIALOGUE 
 
 I gave you of the equality between the square of a diagonal 
 of a square and the two squares of the sides. And let us observe 
 that this demonstration derives its evidence and generality 
 only from the general and clear idea of extension, from the 
 straightness and equality of the lines, the angles, the triangles, 
 and not from the white and black which renders all these sensible 
 and particular without rendering them in themselves more 
 intelligible or clearer. Note that it is evident from my demon- 
 stration that generally every square described on the diagonal of 
 a square equals the two squares of the sides, but that it is by 
 no means certain that this particular square which you see before 
 your eyes is equaltothetwo others. For you are not even certain 
 that what you see is a square, and that this particular line is 
 straight, or that angle a right angle. The relations which 
 your mind conceives between the magnitudes are not the same 
 as the relations of these figures. Note, finally, that though 
 our senses do not enlighten the mind by themselves, yet because 
 they render sensible the ideas which we have of bodies, they 
 rouse our attention, and in this way they lead us indirectly to 
 apprehension of the truth. It follows that we ought to make 
 use of our senses in the study of all the sciences which have for 
 their subject matter the relations of extension, and not fear 
 that they will lead us into error, providing that we strictly follow 
 the rule only to judge of things by means of the ideas which 
 represent them, and not by the sensations which we have of them, 
 a rule of the highest importance, and one which we ought never 
 to forget. 
 
 VIII. AristEs. All this is profoundly true, Theodore, and so 
 I have understood the matter ever since I have thought seri- 
 ously about it.* Nothing is more certain than that our states 
 of mind are obscure, that they do not enlighten the mind by 
 themselves, and that we do not know clearly all that we feel 
 most vividly. This square here is not such as I see it. It 
 is not of the magnitude that I see. To you certainly it seems 
 larger or smaller than to me. The colour which I see does not 
 belong toit. Perhapsto youit appearsto have anothercolour than 
 it does to me. It is not properly this square whichI see. I judge 
 that itis traced on this paper, and it is not impossible that there 
 is present here neither paper nor square, just as it is certain 
 
 t Cf. Recherche, Bk. I,and Réponse aulivre des vraies et des fausses Idées. 
 
ON METAPHYSICS 151 
 
 that there is here no colour. But though my eyes give me so 
 many false or doubtful reports concerning the figures described 
 on this paper, all this is as nothing compared with the illusions 
 of my other senses. The testimony furnished by the eyes very 
 often comes near the truth. The sense of vision may aid the 
 mind to discover it. It does not wholly conceal its object. In 
 rousing my attention it leads me to understanding. But the 
 other senses are so false that one is deluded when one trusts 
 to their guidance. It is not, however, the case that our eyes 
 are given to us for the purpose of discovering the exact truths of 
 geometry and physics. They are given to us only to throw light 
 upon all the movements of our body in relation to the bodies of 
 our environment for the convenience and preservation of life ; and, 
 in order to preserve life, it is necessary that we should have some 
 kind of knowledge, approximating somewhat to the truth, of sensible 
 objects. It is for this purpose that we have, for example, a certain 
 sensation of the size of a given body at a given distance. For if 
 such a body were too far to be able to injure us, or if, being near, 
 it were too small, we should not fail to lose sight of it. To our 
 eyes it would be as non-existent, though it would still subsist 
 for the mind, and though, so far as it is concerned, division could 
 never annihilate it; because the relation of a very large body, 
 but at a long distance, or of a body which is near, but too small 
 to injure us, the relation, I say, of these bodies to ours is nil, 
 or ought not to be perceived by the senses which speak and 
 ought to speak only for the conservation of life. All this seems 
 
 evident to me and in conformity with what has passed through 
 _ my mind during the time of my meditation. 
 
 THEODORE. I see quite well, Aristes, that you have travelled 
 very far into the land of truth, and through the communion 
 which you have had with Reason you have acquired riches more 
 precious and rare than those which are brought to us from the 
 New World. You have found the source, and have drunk 
 from it; and, behold, you are rich for ever, if only you do not 
 leave it. You have no longer need either of me or of anyone 
 else, having discovered the faithful Master who enlightens and 
 enriches all those who are attached to Him. 
 
 ARISTEs. What, Theodore! Do you wish to break up our 
 discussions already? I know quite well that it is with the 
 universal Reason that one must philosophise. But I do not 
 know the way in which this must be done. Reason itself will 
 
152 FIFTH DIALOGUE 
 
 teach me. That is not impossible. Yet I cannot hope for this if 
 I have not a faithful and vigilant monitor to guide and encourage 
 me. Good-bye to philosophy if you abandon me, for left to 
 myself I should be afraid of going astray. I shall soon take the 
 replies which I make to myself for those of our common Master. 
 
 IX. THEODORE. I have no mind to leave you, my dear 
 Aristes. For now that you meditate upon everything one tells 
 you, I hope that you will prevent in me the evil which you fear 
 would befall you. We have all of us need of each other, though 
 we receive nothing from anyone. You have taken literally 
 a word thrown out in honour of Reason. Yes, it is from it alone 
 that we receive light. But it makes use of those to whom it 
 communicates itself, for the purpose of recalling to itself its 
 lost children and to bring them through their senses to intel- 
 ligence. Do you not know, Aristes, that Reason itself has assumed 
 bodily form in order to be accessible to all men, to strike the 
 eyes and ears of those who can see and hear only through the 
 senses ? Men have seen with their eyes the Eternal Wisdom, 
 the invisible God who dwells within them. They have touched 
 with their hands, as the well-beloved disciple says, the Word 
 that endows with life. The Inner Truth has assumed external 
 form, in order to teach us, coarse and stupid as we are, ina 
 sensible and palpable manner the eternal commands of the 
 Divine Law—commands which it issues to us incessantly within 
 us, but which we hear not, given up as we are to what is out- 
 ward. Do you not know that these great truths which faith 
 teaches us are deposited in the Church, and that we can learn 
 them only through the visible authority which emanates from 
 the incarnate Wisdom ? It is, it is true, ever Inner Truth which 
 teaches us. But it makes use of all possible means in order 
 to bring us back to itself and to fill us with intelligence. Fear 
 not, then, that I shall leave you. For I hope that it will make 
 use of you for the purpose of preventing me from abandoning 
 it, and from taking my own imagination and reveries for its 
 divine oracles. 
 
 ARISTES. You do mea great honour. But I see I must accept 
 it, since it rebounds to Reason, our common Master. 
 
 THEODORE. I do you the honour of believing you to be 
 rational. This honour is a great one. For through Reason every 
 man, when he consults it and follows it, becomes superior to all 
 
ON METAPHYSICS 153 
 
 created things. By it he judges and condemns. But do not 
 suppose that Iam yielding to you. Do not suppose either that I 
 -amraising myself above you. I yield only to Reason, which may 
 perhaps speak to me through you, just as it speaks to you through 
 my mediation. I raise myself only above the brutes, above 
 those who abandon the most essential of their qualities. Never- 
 theless, my dear Aristes, though we are both of us rational, let 
 us not forget that we are very liable to error because we can 
 both of us come to a decision without waiting for the infallible 
 judgment of the just judge, without waiting for the evidence 
 to wring, so to speak, our consent from us. For if we always 
 honoured Reason by letting it utter its decrees it would make 
 us infallible. But instead of waiting for its deliverances, instead 
 of following its light step by step, we anticipate it and go astray. 
 Impulsive as we are, we are seized with impatience at having to 
 remain attentive and immobile. Our wants press upon us and the 
 enthusiasm which we have for the true good precipitates us fre- 
 quently into the greatest evils. For we are free to follow the light 
 of Reason or to grope in the dark under the false and deceiving 
 gleam of our own states of mind. Nothing is more pleasant 
 than to follow blindly the impressions of instinct. On the other 
 hand, nothing is more difficult than to hold fast to the sublime 
 and delicate ideas of truth despite the weight of the body which 
 hinders the mind. Nevertheless, let us both try to sustain one 
 another, my dear Aristes, without trusting each other too much. 
 Perhaps our feet will not slip at the same time, provided we 
 advance very gently and are as careful as possible not to lean 
 on a poor support. 
 
 ARISTES. Let us advance a little, Theodore. What do you 
 fear? Reason is an excellent support. There is no succession 
 in clear ideas. They do not yield totime. They do not accommo- 
 date themselves to particular interests. They do not alter their 
 deliverances like our states of mind, which speak for or against 
 anything according as the body solicits them. I am fully 
 convinced that we must follow the ideas which alone shed 
 light, and that our feelings and other states of mind can never 
 lead us to the truth. Let us proceed to some other matter, 
 since I agree with you in regard to all this, 
 
 X. THEODORE. Let us not move so fast, my dear Aristes. 
 I am afraid that you are granting me more than I ask, or that 
 
154 FIFTH DIALOGUE 
 
 you do not yet understand with sufficient distinctness what 
 I am saying. Our senses deceive us, it is true, but that is 
 mainly because we refer to sensible objects the feelings we have 
 of them. Now, there are present in us several feelings which 
 we do not refer to them. For example, the feeling of joy, 
 sadness, hate, in a word, all the feelings which accompany the 
 movements of the soul. The colour is not in the object, the 
 pain is not in the body, the heat is neither in the fire nor in 
 the body, to which, nevertheless, these feelings are referred. Our 
 outer senses are false witnesses. Agreed. But the feelings of 
 love and hate, joy and sorrow, are not referred to the objects 
 of those feelings. They are felt in the soul, and there they are. 
 They are, then, good witnesses, for they speak the truth. 
 
 ARISTES. Yes, Theodore, they speak the truth and the other 
 feelings likewise. For when I feel pain, it is true that I feel it, it is 
 true even in asense that I suffer it through the action of the object 
 which touches me. Here aresome great truths! Whatthen! Isit 
 the case that the feelings of love, hate, and the other passions are 
 not referred to the objects which are their occasion? Do they 
 not shed their malignity upon them and represent them to us 
 as other than they really are ? As for me, when I have a feeling 
 of aversion to anyone I feel inclined to interpret all that he 
 does in an evil way. His innocent actions appear criminal. 
 I persuade myself that I have good reasons for hating and 
 despising him. For all my passions seek justification at the 
 expense of him in whom they are centred. If my eyes shed 
 different colours over the surface of bodies, my heart likewise 
 transfers as much as possible its inner dispositions or certain 
 false colours to the objects of its passions. I do not know, 
 Theodore, whether the feelings of your heart give rise in you 
 to the same effects as mine do in mine. But I can assure you 
 that I am more afraid to listen to and follow them than to yield 
 to the illusions, often innocent and helpful, of my senses, 
 
 XI. THEODORE. I am not saying, Aristes, that one should 
 yield to the hidden impulses of one’s passions, and am well 
 pleased to see that you are aware of their power and malignity. 
 But you must agree that they teach us certain truths. For, 
 at any rate, it is true that I am experiencing much joy at present 
 in listening to you. It is very true that the pleasure which 
 I feel now is greater than the pleasure I had in our previous 
 
ON METAPHYSICS 155 
 
 conversations. I know, then, the difference between these two 
 pleasures. And I do not know them in any other way than through 
 the feeling that I have of them, through the modifications which 
 my soul is undergoing—modifications which are, therefore, not so 
 obscure that they do not teach me an indisputable truth. 
 
 ARISTES. Sayif you like, Theodore, that you feel this differ- 
 ence between your modifications and your pleasures. But pray 
 do not say that you know it. God knows it and does not feel 
 it. But as for you, you feel it without knowing it. If you 
 had a clear idea of your soul, if you could see its archetype, then 
 you would know what you can now only feel, then you would 
 know exactly the difference between the various feelings of joy 
 which your kindness to mecalls forthin your heart. Yet, assuredly, 
 you do not know it. Compare, Theodore, the feeling of joy which 
 you experience now with that of the other day, and tell me 
 precisely the relation that subsists between them, and then 
 I will believe you that your states of mind are known to you. 
 For one knows things only when one knows the relations between 
 them. You know that one pleasure is greater than another. 
 But how much greater? We know that a square inscribed in 
 a circle is smaller than the circle, but we do not on that account 
 know the quadrature of the circle, for we do not know the 
 relation of the circle to the square. We can approximate to 
 it ad infinitum and see clearly that the difference between the 
 circle and such other figure can besmaller than any given quantity. 
 But note that we can do so because we have a clear idea of 
 extension. For the difficulty which we have in discovering the 
 relation of the circle to the square is due only to the smallness 
 of our intellect ; whereas it is the obscurity of our feelings and 
 the darkness of our modifications which makes impossible the 
 discovery of their relations. Were we endowed with the genius 
 of the sublimest intellect, we could never, it is clear to me, dis- 
 cover the relations of our states of mind, if God did not reveal 
 to us the archetype on the model of which He has made us. 
 For you have convinced me that we can know beings and their 
 modifications only by the eternal, immutable and necessary 
 ideas which represent them. 
 
 XII. THEoporE. That is quite right, Aristes. Our senses 
 and our passions can never enlighten us. But what say you about 
 our imagination ? The imagination forms such clear and distinct 
 
156 FIFTH DIALOGUE 
 
 images of the geometric figures that you cannot deny it is by 
 the help of them that we cultivate this science. 
 
 ARISTES. Do you think, Theodore, that I have already for- 
 gotten what you have just told me or that I have not under- 
 stood it? The certainty which characterises the reasoning of 
 geometricians, the clearness of the lines and the figures which 
 the imagination forms, are due solely to our ideas and not at 
 all to our modifications, not at all to the confused traces which 
 the flow of the animal spirits leaves behind it. When I imagine 
 a figure, when I construct a building in my mind, I work on 
 a foundation which does not belong to me. For it is from the 
 clear idea of extension, from the archetype of bodies, that 
 I derive all the intelligible materials which indicate my design 
 to me, all the space which yields my ground-plot. It is out of 
 this idea, furnished to me by Reason, that I form within my 
 mind the body of my work, it is by aid of the ideas of equality 
 and proportion that I fashion it and regulate it—feducing every- 
 thing to that arbitrary unity which must be the common measure 
 of all the parts of which it is composed, or at least of all the parts 
 which can be viewed from the same point and at the same time. 
 It is, assuredly, in accordance with intelligible ideas that we 
 regulate the course of the animal spirits which traces these 
 images or figures of our imagination. And all the clearness 
 and certainty these figures possess does not proceed at all 
 from the confused feeling which belongs to us, but from 
 the intelligible reality which belongs to Reason. It does 
 not come from the modification proper and peculiar to us; it 
 is an effulgence from the luminous substance of our common 
 master. 
 
 I am not able, Theodore, to imagine a square, for example, 
 without at the same time conceiving it. And it seems to me 
 evident that the image of this square which I form for myself 
 is exact and regular only in so far as it corresponds precisely 
 to the intelligible idea which I have of the square, i.e. of a space 
 bounded by four lines exactly straight, entirely equal, and which 
 when joined at their extremities have for their angles perfectly 
 tight angles. Now, it is of such a square that I am sure that the 
 square of its diagonal equals the squares on the two sides. It is of 
 such a square that I feel sure that the diagonal and the sides 
 are incommensurable. In a word, it is of such a square that 
 the properties can be discovered and be demonstrated to others. 
 
ON METAPHYSICS 157 
 
 On the other hand, one can know nothing through the confused 
 and irregular image which the course of the animal spirits 
 traces in the brain. The same is true of all the other figures. 
 It follows that geometricians do not derive their knowledge 
 from the confused images of their imagination, but solely from 
 the clear ideas of Reason. These crude images may perhaps 
 sustain their attention, giving bodily form, so to speak, to their 
 ideas. But it is the ideas wherein they find sure foundation, 
 which convince them of the truth of their science. 
 
 XIII. Do you want me, Theodore, to stop here in order to 
 show you the illusions and phantoms of an imagination in revolt 
 against Reason, sustained and animated by the passions—those 
 alluring phantoms which mislead us, those terrible phantoms 
 which inspire us with fear, monsters of whatsoever kind which owe 
 their birth to our confusion, and which increase and multiply in a 
 moment ? Pure chimeras at bottom, but chimeras on which our 
 mind feeds and with which it busies itself with the utmost eager- 
 ness. For our imagination finds more reality in the spectres to 
 which it gives birth than in the necessary and immutable ideas of 
 Eternal Truth. That is because these dangerous spectres affect 
 it, while the ideas do not touch it. Of what avail can be 
 a faculty so disorderly, a fool who likes to play the fool, a 
 fickle one whom we find it so difficult to keep to the point, an 
 insolent one who does not fear to interrupt in our most serious 
 communions with Reason? I admit, nevertheless, that our 
 imagination can make the mind attentive. For it has so much 
 charm for it and sway over it that it can make it think willingly 
 about whatever affects it. But, apart from the fact that it can 
 have relation only to ideas which represent bodies, it is so 
 subject to illusion, and so impetuous, that if not constantly 
 checked in its movements and tricks and not controlled, it will 
 lead you in an instant into the land of chimeras. 
 
 THEODORE. That is quite sufficient, Aristes. I see quite 
 well that you understand sufficiently that Reason alone enlightens 
 us by means of the intelligible ideas which it contains in its 
 all-luminous substance, and that you are perfectly able to dis- 
 tinguish its clear ideas from our dark and obscure modifications. 
 I advise you, nevertheless, to meditate often upon this matter 
 in order to master it so perfectly, and to make yourself so familiar 
 with the principles and consequences that follow from it, that 
 
158 FIFTH DIALOGUE 
 
 you will never by inadvertence take the vivacity of your feelings 
 for the evidence of truth. For it is not enough to have realised 
 that the general principle underlying our prejudices is that we 
 do not distinguish between knowing and feeling, and that instead 
 of judging of things by the ideas which represent them, we judge 
 of them by the feelings which we have of them. It is necessary 
 to fortify ourselves in this fundamental truth by following it 
 out to its consequences, Practical principles are never perfectly 
 understood until they are made use of in actual application. 
 Try, then, by means of continuous and serious thought to acquire 
 a strong and blissful habit of being on guard against the surprises 
 and hidden impulses of your false and deceiving states of mind. 
 There is no task more worthy of a philosopher. For, if we dis- 
 tinguish carefully the deliverances of Inner Truth from that 
 which we say to ourselves ; if we distinguish that which comes 
 immediately from Reason from all that comes to us through 
 the body or is occasioned by the body ; that which is immutable, 
 eternal, necessary from that which changes at all moments— 
 in a word, the evidence of the light from the vivacity of instinct, 
 it is hardly possible that we should fall into error. 
 
 ARISTES. I understand quite well all that you are telling me. 
 And I have found so much satisfaction in the reflection I have 
 already spent on this subject, that you need be under no 
 apprehension that I shall not think of it again. Let us pass 
 on to some other matter, if you think fit. 
 
 THEODORE. It is too late, Aristes, to enter at present into 
 a long discussion. But in which direction do you wish that we 
 should turn to-morrow? Please think about it and tell me. 
 
 ARISTES. It is for you to lead me. 
 
 THEODORE. Not at all; it is for you to make a choice. It 
 should not be a matter of indifference to you which way I am 
 leading you. May it not be that I am deceiving you? May it 
 not be that I shall lead you whither you ought not to go? Most 
 men, my dear Aristes, busy themselves imprudently with useless 
 studies. It is enough for certain people to hear chemistry, 
 astronomy, or any other vain and little wanted science praised, 
 to throw themselves headlong into it. One person will not 
 know whether the soul is immortal, he will perhaps be at a loss 
 to prove the existence of God, yet he will solve the most complex 
 algebraic equation for you with a surprising facility. Another 
 will know all the refinements of language, all the rules of gram- 
 
ON METAPHYSICS 159 
 
 marians, and will never have meditated upon the command of 
 duty. What perversity of mind! An arrogant imagination 
 bestows passionate praise upon the knowledge of medallions, 
 the poetry of Italians, the language of the Arabs and Persians, 
 in the hearing of a young man full of enthusiasm for science. This 
 will be sufficient to lead him blindly into this kind of studies ; 
 he will neglect the study of man, the rules of morality, and per- 
 haps he will forget what is taught to children in their catechism. 
 Man is a machine which goes as it is impelled. Chance 
 rather than reason is man’s guide. Everybody lives by opinion. 
 Everybody is guided by imitation. Men even claim credit for 
 following those who are in the front without knowing whither. 
 Reflect upon the various studies of your friends, or rather review 
 in your mind the direction you have followed in your own 
 studies, and see whether you were right in doing what the others 
 did. Judge your conduct not by the applause which you have 
 received but by the decisive deliverances of Inner Truth ; judge it 
 by the Eternal Law, the Immutable Order regardless of the foolish 
 thoughts of men. What, Aristes! because everybody devotes 
 himself to trifling matters each in his way and according to his 
 taste, is it necessary to follow them for fear of being taken for 
 a philosopher by some fools? Is it even necessary everywhere 
 to follow the philosophers, even in their abstractions and chimeras, 
 for fear that they will look upon us as ignorant or as novices? 
 Everything should be put in its proper place. Preference should 
 be given to the sciences which deserve it. We ought to learn 
 what we ought to know, and not allow our head to be filled with 
 useless matter, however attractive it may appear, when we are 
 lacking in what is essential to us. Think of this, Aristes, and you 
 will tell me to-morrow what the subject of our discussion ought 
 to be. We have had enough for to-day. 
 
 ARISTES. It is much better that you should tell me your- 
 self. 
 
 THEODORE. It is infinitely better that it should be Reason 
 which should tell us both. Consult it seriously, and I for my part 
 will think of the matter too. 
 
SIXTH DIALOGUE 
 
 Proofs of the existence of bodies, based on revelation—Two kinds of reve- 
 lation—Explanation of the fact that the natural revelations of the 
 sensations are a source of error. 
 
 ARISTES. What a difficult question you have given me to solve, 
 Theodore! I was indeed right when I said that it was for you 
 who know the strong and the weak side of the sciences, the 
 utility and fruitfulness of their principles, to regulate my pro- 
 cedure in this intelligible world, whither you have transported 
 me. For I confess I do not know in which direction to turn. 
 What you have taught me will no doubt be of use in prevent- 
 ing me from going astray in this unknown country. For this 
 purpose I have but to follow the light, step by step, and to 
 yield only to the evidence which accompanies clear ideas. But 
 it is not enough merely to move onwards, it is incumbent on 
 us to know whither we are going. It is not enough to keep 
 on discovering new truths incessantly, it is incumbent upon 
 us to know where those fruitful truths are to be found which 
 bestow upon the mind all the perfection of which it is at the 
 moment capable,—those truths which are to regulate the judg- 
 ment which we ought to have concerning God and His wonder- 
 ful works, which are to regulate the movements of our hearts 
 and give us a taste, or at least a foretaste, of the supreme good 
 which we desire. 
 
 If in choosing a science one had to consider only its 
 demonstrativeness without thinking of its utility, arithmetic 
 would be preferable to all the sciences. The truths of numbers 
 are the clearest of all, since all other relations are known clearly 
 only in so far as they can be expressed by those common 
 measures of all exact relations which are commensurable by 
 unity. And this science is so fruitful and profound that if I 
 were to spend ten thousand centuries in fathoming its depths 
 
 I should at the end of that time still find an inexhaustible 
 160 
 
ON METAPHYSICS 161 
 
 store of clear and luminous ideas. Nevertheless, I do not think 
 that you will find it quite to the purpose that we should turn 
 in that direction, charmed by the certainty which meets us 
 there on all sides. For, after all, of what avail would it be to 
 us to penetrate into the most hidden mysteries of arithmetic 
 and algebra? It is not enough to traverse many countries, 
 to advance very far into waste lands, to discover places where 
 no man has ever been; we ought to go straight into those 
 prosperous countries where we can find fruit in abundance, and 
 solid viands capable of nourishing us. When I compared the 
 various sciences with one another according to my light, their 
 various advantages whether as regards their demonstrativeness or 
 utility, I found myself greatly embarrassed. Now the fear of 
 falling into error made me give preference to the exact sciences 
 such as arithmetic and geometry, the demonstrativeness of 
 which satisfy in an admirable way our vain curiosity. Now 
 the desire to know not the relations of ideas to one another 
 but the relations which subsist between them and the works 
 of God in the midst of which we live, attracted me to physics, 
 ethics and the other sciences which frequently depend upon 
 experience and phenomena uncertain enough, It is strange, 
 Theodore, that the most useful sciences should be full of im- 
 penetrable obscurity, and that on the other hand the path 
 should be sure, easy and smooth in those sciences which are 
 not so necessary. Now, please tell me what method is there 
 which would enable us to estimate fairly the relation between 
 the facility of some and the utility of others, so as to 
 give the preference to the science which deserves it ? More- 
 over, how can we be sure that those which seem the most useful 
 are so in truth, and that those which appear to be merely 
 certain do not possess an important use of which we are not 
 aware? I confess, Theodore, that though I have thought a good 
 deal about the matter, I do not yet know what decision to 
 arrive at. 
 
 I. THEODORE. You have not wasted your time, my dear 
 Aristes, in your reflections upon the subject. For though you 
 do not know precisely to what to apply yourself, I am already 
 well assured that you will not devote yourself to a number of 
 false studies on which more than half the world is seriously 
 engaged. I am quite certain that if I committed a mistake 
 
 il 
 
162 SIXTH DIALOGUE 
 
 in the choice which I made as to the subject of our future 
 discussions, you would be in a position to correct me. 
 When men lift up their head and look in all directions, they 
 do not always follow those who are in front of them. They 
 follow them only when they are going whither it is necessary 
 for them or whither they wish themselves to go. And when 
 the leader of the group imprudently enters upon routes which 
 are dangerous and which lead nowhere, the others will make 
 him come back. Continue, therefore, your reflections upon 
 your future steps and mine. Do not trust me too much. 
 Watch carefully whether I am leading you where both of us 
 ought to go. Observe, then, Aristes. There are sciences of two 
 kinds. On the one hand, there are those which deal with rela- 
 tions of ideas; on the other, those which deal with relations 
 of things by the aid of their ideas. The former are evident 
 in every way. The latter cannot be evident unless we suppose 
 that things resemble the ideas which we have of them, and in 
 accordance with which we reason of them. These latter sciences 
 are very useful, but they are enveloped in great obscurity, 
 because they presuppose facts the truth of which it is very 
 difficult to know exactly. But if we could find some method 
 for assuring ourselves of the correctness of our assumptions, 
 we should be able to avoid error, and at the same time to dis- 
 cover the truths which concern us very closely. For, once 
 more, truths or relations of ideas to one another only concern 
 us when they represent relations between things which have 
 some connection with us. 
 
 Thus it is evident,it seems to me, that the best use that we 
 can make of our mind is to ascertain what are the things which 
 have some connection with us, the difference in kind among 
 these connections, their causes, their effects; all in conformity 
 with clear ideas and indisputable experiences, the former of 
 which assure us of the nature and properties of things, and the 
 latter of their relations to and connection with ourselves. But, 
 in order not to waste our energies in trifles and useless things, 
 our examination should be directed towards that which can 
 make us happy and perfect. Thus, in a nutshell, it seems to 
 me evident that the best use which we can make of our mind 
 is to endeavour to gain an understanding of the truths which 
 we believe by faith and of all that goes to confirm them. For 
 there is no comparison between the utility of these truths and 
 
ON METAPHYSICS 168 
 
 the advantages which can accrue to us from the knowledge 
 of other truths. We believe these great truths. That I 
 grant. But faith does not exempt those who are capable of it 
 from filling their mind with these truths and from becoming 
 convinced of them in every possible way. For, on the contrary, 
 faith is given to us that we should regulate in accordance 
 with it the procedure of our intellect as well as the movements 
 of our heart. It is given to us for the purpose of leading us 
 to an understanding of those very truths which it teaches us. 
 There are so many people who scandalise the faithful by an 
 extreme metaphysic and insolently demand from us proofs of 
 that which they ought to believe on the infallible authority 
 of the Church, that, although the strength of your faith renders 
 you unassailable, your charity ought to lead you to remedy the 
 disorder and confusion which they cause everywhere. Do 
 you approve then, Aristes, of the plan which I propose for our 
 future discussions ? 
 
 ARISsTES. Certainly I do. But I did not think that you would 
 wish to abandon metaphysics. Had I thought that, I should, 
 it seems to me, have solved the question as to which sciences 
 should be preferred. For it is clear that no discovery can bear 
 comparison with an understanding of the truths of faith. I 
 thought that all that you wanted was to make something of 
 a philosopher and a good metaphysician of me. 
 
 II. THEODORE. That is quite true, and I have no desire 
 to abandon metaphysics, though in the sequel I shall perhaps 
 take the liberty of going a little beyond its usual limits. This 
 general science has authority over all the others. It may per- 
 haps obtain illustrations from them and a little detail which 
 is necessary in order to render its general principles perceptible 
 by the senses. For by metaphysics I do not mean _ those 
 abstract arguments about some imaginary properties, the main 
 use of which is to furnish to those who are fond of disputation 
 subject matter for endless arguments. I understand by this 
 science the general truths which can serve as principles for the 
 particular sciences. 
 
 I am convinced, Aristes, that one must be a good philosopher 
 in order to gain an understanding of the truths of faith, and 
 the more mastery one has over the true principles of meta- 
 physics the firmer will one be in the truths of religion. I 
 
164 SIXTH DIALOGUE 
 
 assume, as very likely you see, what is necessary in order to 
 render this proposition acceptable. But no, I shall never 
 believe that true philosophy is opposed to faith and that good 
 philosophers can have different opinions from good Christians. 
 For whether it be that Jesus Christ in his divinity speaks to 
 philosophers in their innermost being, or whether it be that 
 he instructs Christians by aid of the visible authority of the 
 Church, it is not possible that he should contradict himself, 
 though it is quite possible to imagine contradictions in his 
 deliverances or to take what really are our own decisions for his 
 deliverances. Truth speaks to us in different ways, but cer- 
 tainly it always says the same thing. Philosophy, then, should 
 not be opposed to religion—unless it be the false philosophy 
 of the Pagans, the philosophy which is based on human 
 authority, in a word, all those non-revealed opinions which do 
 not bear the character of truth—that irresistible certainty 
 which compels all attentive minds to submission. You can 
 see from the metaphysical conclusions which we have reached 
 in our preceding discussions whether true philosophy contra- 
 dicts religion. For my part, I am convinced that it does not. 
 For, if I had submitted to you any proposition contrary to the 
 truths which Jesus Christ teaches us through the visible 
 authority of the Church, those propositions, coming as they 
 would be from my own resources, and not being characterised 
 by irresistible certainty, would not belong at all to a true and 
 sound philosophy. But I do not know why I delay to speak 
 of truths which it is impossible to doubt, however small the 
 amount of consideration we give to them. 
 
 ARISTES. Permit me to tell you, Theodore, that I was charmed 
 to find a wonderful connection between what you have taught 
 me, or rather between what Reason has taught me through your 
 mediation, and those great and necessary truths, belief in which 
 the authority of the Church enjoins upon the simple and the 
 ignorant, whom God desires to save just as well as the 
 philosophers. You have, for example, convinced me of the 
 corruption of my nature and the need of a Saviour. I know that 
 all intelligent minds have but a single and unique Master, the 
 divine Word, and that only Reason incarnate and rendered 
 sensible can deliver carnal men from the blindness into which we 
 are all born. I confess with extreme satisfaction that these 
 fundamental truths of our faith, and several- others which it 
 
ON METAPHYSICS 165 
 
 would take too long to relate, are necessary consequences from 
 the principles which you have demonstrated to me. Pray 
 continue ; I shall try to follow you whithersoever you lead 
 me. 
 
 THEODORE. Ah, my dear Aristes, be careful once again 
 lest I go astray. I am afraid you are too easily convinced, and 
 that your approbation will encourage some negligence on my 
 part and cause me to fall into error. Pray fear for me and 
 mistrust all that a man, who may be subject to illusion, is telling 
 you. Moreover, you will learn nothing if your reflections do 
 not put you in possession of the truths which I shall try to 
 demonstrate to you. 
 
 III. There are only three kinds of being of which we have 
 any knowledge and with which we can have any connection : 
 God or the infinitely perfect Being, who is the principle or 
 cause of all things; minds which we know only by the 
 inner feeling which we have of our own nature; bodies 
 of the existence of which we are assured by the revelation 
 which we have of them. For what we call a man is but a 
 complex... . 
 
 ARISTES. Gently, Theodore. I know that there is a God 
 or an infinitely perfect Being.t For if I think of Him, and 
 certainly I do think of Him, it follows that He exists, since 
 nothing finite can represent the Infinite. I know likewise that 
 minds exist, granted that there are beings who resemble myself, 
 for I cannot doubt but that I think and I know that whatever 
 thinks is other than extension or matter.2 You have demon- 
 strated all this. But what do you mean when you say that 
 we are assured of the existence of bodies by the revelation 
 which we have of them? What! Do we not see them, 
 do we not feel them? We have no need of a revelation to 
 teach us that we have a body; when we are pricked, we feel 
 it quite sufficiently. 
 
 THEODORE. Yes, no doubt we feel it. But the feeling of 
 pain which we have is a kind of revelation. This expression 
 is a striking one. But it is precisely for that reason that I 
 make use of it. For you always forget that it is God alone 
 who produces in your soul all those different feelings which 
 it experiences, on the occasion of the changes which take place 
 
 t Dialogue II. 2 Dialogue I, 
 
166 SIXTH DIALOGUE 
 
 in your body, in consequence of the general laws of the con- 
 junction of the two natures of which man is constituted; laws 
 which are nothing but the efficient and constant volitions of 
 the Creator, as I shall explain in the sequel. The point through 
 which our hand is pricked does not cause the pain through the 
 hole which it makes in the body. Neither is it the soul which 
 produces this uncomfortable feeling, since it suffers the pain 
 despite itself. It is produced assuredly by a superior power. 
 It is God Himself, who through the feelings with which He 
 affects us reveals to us all that takes place outside us, I mean 
 in our body and in the bodies of our environment. Remember, 
 please, what I have already said so many times. 
 
 IV. ARISTES. I was wrong, Theodore. But what you are 
 telling me has suggested to my mind a very strange thought. 
 I hardly dare to submit it to you, for I fear you will look upon 
 me as a dreamer. I am beginning now to doubt whether there 
 are any bodies. My reason is that the revelation which God 
 gives us of their existence is not certain. For, after all, it is 
 certain that we frequently see bodies which really do not exist, 
 as for example during sleep, or when a fever causes an excite- 
 ment in the brain. If God, in consequence of the general laws, 
 as you call them, can sometimes give us deceptive sensations, if 
 He can reveal false things to us through our senses, why should 
 He not do so always, and how can we distinguish what is 
 true from what is false in the obscure and confused testimony 
 of our senses? It seems to me that I had better prudently 
 reserve my judgment with regard to the existence of bodies. 
 I will ask you kindly to give me an exact demonstration 
 of it. 
 
 THEODORE. An exact demonstration! That is a little 
 too much, Aristes. It seems to me, on the contrary, that I have 
 an exact demonstration of the impossibility of such a demon- 
 stration. But keep up your courage, do not despair. Proofs 
 are not lacking which are sufficient to dispel your doubt. 
 And I am glad that such a doubt occurred to you. For, 
 after all, to doubt the existence of bodies on the strength of 
 reasons which show that one cannot doubt the existence of 
 God or the incorporeal nature of the soul is some proof that 
 one has put oneself above all prejudices, and instead of sub- 
 jecting reason to the senses as most men do, one has recognised 
 
ON METAPHYSICS 167 
 
 the right which it has to pronounce judgment authoritatively. 
 That it is impossible to give an exact demonstration of the 
 existence of bodies I can prove conclusively, unless I am much 
 mistaken, thus:— 
 
 V. The notion of the infinitely perfect Being involves no 
 necessary relation to any created thing. God is perfectly self- 
 sufficient. Matter is, therefore, no necessary emanation from the 
 Divinity. At least—and this is sufficient for the present pur- 
 pose—it is not evident that it is such a necessary emanation. 
 Now, one can give no exact demonstration of a truth unless 
 one can show that it is necessarily connected with its 
 principle, unless one can show that there is a necessary 
 relation involved in the ideas which are being compared. 
 Hence it is not possible to demonstrate rigorously that bodies 
 exist. 
 
 In fact, the existence of bodies is arbitrary. If any exist, 
 it is because God has willed to create them. Now, it is not the 
 . same in the case of the volition to create the world as it is in 
 the case of that to punish sins, reward good deeds, exact 
 from all of us love and fear, and the like. These latter volitions 
 of God and a thousand other similar ones are necessarily con- 
 tained in the divine Reason, in that substantial Law which 
 is the inviolable rule of the will of the infinitely perfect 
 Being and generally of all intelligent minds. The will to create 
 corporeal things, on the other hand, is not necessarily involved in 
 the notion of the infinitely perfect Being, the Being that is 
 perfectly self-sufficient. Far from being so, this notion seems 
 to exclude such a volition from God. There is, then, no other 
 way than revelation to assure us that God has willed to create 
 corporeal things, admitting at the same time, what you do not 
 doubt, that they are not visible in themselves, that they cannot 
 act upon the mind nor represent themselves to it, and that our 
 mind itself can know them only through the ideas which repre- 
 sent them, and feel them only through the modifications or 
 sensations of which they can be the cause only in consequence 
 of the arbitrary laws of the conjunction of the soul and the 
 body. 
 
 VI. ArisTES. I quite understand, Theodore, that one cannot 
 deduce demonstratively the existence of bodies from the notion 
 
168 SIXTH DIALOGUE 
 
 of the infinitely perfect Being, and that He is self-sufficient. 
 For the volitions of God which have reference to the world are 
 not involved in the notion which we have of Him. Now, since 
 there is nothing apart from these volitions which could give 
 being to these created things, it is clear that no demonstration 
 can be offered of the existence of bodies, for demonstrations can 
 be given only of those truths which are necessarily connected 
 with their principle. Thus, since one cannot assure oneself 
 of the existence of bodies by means of a clear proof, there 
 is no other way left than the authority of a_ revelation. 
 But this way does not seem to me certain. For though 
 I find clearly in the idea of the most perfect Being that 
 He cannot wish to deceive us, experience teaches me that 
 His revelations are deceptive: two truths which I cannot 
 reconcile with one another. For, after all, we often have 
 feelings which reveal false things to us. One person feels 
 pain in an arm which he has no longer. All those whom we 
 designate “‘mad”’ see in front of them objects which do not 
 exist, and there is hardly a person who has not in his life been 
 frequently disturbed and frightened by pure phantoms. God 
 is no deceiver. He cannot wish to deceive anyone, whether 
 fools or wise men. But, nevertheless, we are all of us deceived 
 by the feelings which He causes in us, and by means of which 
 He informs us of the existence of corporeal things. Itis then quite 
 certain that we are often deceived. On the other hand, it seems 
 no less certain that we are not always deceived. Let us see, 
 then, upon what foundation you rest the certainty which you 
 claim to have of the existence of corporeal things. 
 
 VII. THEODORE. There are in general revelations of two 
 kinds: on the one hand natural, and on the other supernatural. 
 I mean that the former take place in consequence of some 
 general laws which are known to us in accordance with which the 
 author of nature acts upon our mind on the occasion of certain 
 occurrences in our body, and the latter take place in accordance 
 with laws which are unknown to us, or in accordance with par- 
 ticular volitions added to the general laws for the purpose of 
 remedying the grievous effects which they have produced owing to 
 the Fall, which has put everything in disorder. Now, both the 
 former and the latter revelations, the natural and the super- 
 natural, are true in themselves. But the former are for us now 
 
ON METAPHYSICS 169 
 
 a source of error, not because they are false in themselves but 
 because we do not use them for the purpose for which they 
 were given to us, and because the Fall has corrupted our 
 nature and put a kind of contradiction in the relation in which 
 these general laws stand to us. Certainly, the general laws of 
 the conjunction of soul and body, in consequence of which, 
 God reveals to us that we have a body and that we are placed 
 in the midst of many others, have been very wisely established. 
 Remember what we have said in our previous discussions. General 
 laws are not deceptive in themselves or as they were instituted, if 
 we consider their character before the Fall and in the designs of 
 their author. For we ought to remember that before the Fall, 
 before the blindness and confusion which the revolt of his 
 body produced in his mind, man knew clearly by the light of 
 reason— 
 
 1. That God alone could act upon him, render him happy 
 or unhappy by means of pleasure or pain—in a word, modify 
 or affect him. 
 
 2. He knew by experience that God affected him always 
 in the same way under the same circumstances. 
 
 3. He recognised, therefore, by experience as well as by the 
 light of Reason that God’s action was and was bound to be 
 uniform. 
 
 4. Thus, he was determined to believe that there were 
 entities which were the occasional causes of the general laws 
 in accordance with which he felt that God acted upon him— 
 for again he knew that God alone acted upon him. 
 
 5. Whenever he wished he could stop himself from experi- 
 encing the action of sensible objects. 
 
 6. The inner feeling which he had of his own volitions and 
 of the respectful and submissive action of these objects taught 
 him then that they were inferior, since they were all subordinate 
 to him, for at that time everything was in perfect order. 
 
 7. Thus, consulting the clear idea conjoined with the inner 
 feeling by which he was moved on the occasion of these objects, 
 he saw clearly that they were only corporeal things, since this 
 idea only represents corporeal things. 
 
 8. He concluded, therefore, that the different feelings where- 
 with God affected him were but revelations by the aid of which 
 God taught him that he had a body and that he was surrounded 
 by a multiplicity of other bodies, 
 
170 SIXTH DIALOGUE 
 
 g. But knowing through his reason that God’s mode of opera- 
 tion was bound to be uniform, and through experience that the 
 laws of the conjunction of body and soul were always the same, 
 realising that the laws were established only for the purpose 
 of warning him of what he ought to do for the conservation of 
 his life, he discovered easily that he ought not to judge of the 
 nature of bodies by the feeling which he had of them, nor of 
 their existence by those same feelings except when his brain 
 was stimulated by a cause from without and not by a movement 
 of the animal spirits excited from within. Thus, he was able 
 to recognise when an extraneous cause produced actual traces 
 in his brain, because the course of the animal spirits was in 
 perfect submission to his will. Thus, unlike the mad or fevered 
 or ourselves during sleep, he was not liable to take phantoms 
 for realities. All this seems to me evident and to follow 
 naturally from two indisputable truths: first, that man before 
 the Fall had very clear ideas and that his mind was free from 
 prejudice ; second, that his body and at least the main part of 
 his brain were in a state of perfect submission to himself. 
 
 So much being granted, you see quite well, Anstes, that the 
 general laws, in consequence of which God gives us these feelings 
 or natural revelations, which assure us of the existence of bodies 
 and of their relation to us, are very wisely laid down; you see 
 that these revelations are not at all deceptive in themselves. They 
 could not have been better designed for the reasons which I have 
 just given. How is it, then, that now they are conducive to an 
 infinite number of errors? Assuredly, because our mind is 
 obscured, because from our childhood we are filled with pre- 
 judices, because we do not know how to use our senses for the 
 purpose for which they were given to us. And all this is so, 
 you must note, precisely because through our own fault we 
 have lost the power which we ought to have over our brain. 
 Our union with the universal Reason is extremely weakened 
 through our dependence upon our body. For our mind is so 
 placed between God, who enlightens us, and the body which 
 blinds us, that it necessarily follows that the closer the union 
 which it has with the one, the weaker will be its union with 
 the other. As God follows and is bound to follow strictly the 
 laws which He has established for the union of the two natures 
 of which we are composed, and as we have lost the power of 
 restraining the traces which the rebellious animal spirits cause in 
 
ON METAPHYSICS 171 
 
 the brain, we take these phantoms for realities. But the cause 
 of our error is not due exactly to the falsity of our natural 
 revelations but to the imprudence and recklessness of our judg- 
 ments, to our ignorance of the way in which God is bound to 
 act, to the disorder, in a word, which sin has caused in all our 
 faculties and to the confusion into which it has thrown our ideas, 
 not by changing the laws of the conjunction of soul and body, 
 but by stirring up the powers of our body and by depriving 
 us through its revolt of the facility to use these laws for the 
 purpose for which they were established. You will understand 
 all this more clearly in our future discussions or when you 
 have meditated upon the matter. Meanwhile, Aristes, despite 
 all that I have just said, I do not see that there can be any 
 good reason for doubting the existence of bodies in general. 
 For though I may be mistaken with regard to the existence of 
 a particular body, I see quite well that this is because God 
 follows strictly the laws of the conjunction of soul and body ; 
 I see that it is because the uniformity of His mode of operation 
 cannot be broken through the irregularity of ours, and because 
 the loss which we have sustained through our own fault of the 
 power which we had over our body cannot be supposed to 
 bring about any change in the laws of its union with our soul. 
 This reason is sufficient to prevent my being mistaken with 
 regard to the existence of such a body. I am inevitably led to 
 believe that it exists. But this reason is wanting, and I do 
 not see any possibility of finding another, that would prevent 
 me from believing in general that there are bodies, despite all 
 the different feelings which I have of them—feelings which 
 are so consistent and well connected, so well arranged, that it 
 seems to me certain that God would be deceiving us if nothing 
 of what we see really existed. 
 
 VIII. But, in order to deliver us entirely from our specu- 
 lative doubt, Faith furnishes us with a proof which it is impossible 
 to resist. For whether bodies exist or not, it is certain 
 that we see them, and that God alone can give us the sensations 
 which we have of them. It is, therefore, God who is presenting 
 to my mind the appearances of the men with whom I live, of 
 the books which I study, of the preachers that I hear. Now, I 
 read in the appearance of the New Testament about the miracles 
 of a Man-God, His resurrection, His ascension to Heaven, the 
 
172 SIXTH DIALOGUE 
 
 preaching of the Apostles, its beneficial success, the establish- 
 ment of the Church. I compare all this with what I know 
 from history, with the laws of the Jews, with the prophecies 
 of the Old Testament. These are still but appearances. But 
 now I am certain that it is God alone who gives them to me, 
 and that He is no deceiver. Again, therefore, I compare all 
 the appearances which I have just enumerated with the idea 
 of God, the beauty of religion, the sanctity of morality, the 
 necessity of a creed, and finally I am induced to believe in what 
 our faith teaches us. In a word, I believe in it without insisting 
 upon a rigorously demonstrative proof. For nothing seems to 
 me more unreasonable than infidelity, nothing more imprudent 
 than not to yield to the greatest authority one can have in 
 matters which we cannot examine with geometrical precision, 
 whether because time is wanting or because of a thousand other 
 reasons. Men have need of an authority to teach them 
 necessary truths—truths which are to lead them to their true 
 end, and to reject the authority of the Church would be to defy 
 Providence. This seems to me evident, and I shall prove it 
 in the sequel. Now, our faith teaches me that God has 
 created the heavens and the earth. It teaches me that Scripture 
 is a divine book, and this book, or the appearance of this book, 
 tells me clearly and positively that there are thousands upon 
 thousands of created things. Thus, then, are all my appearances 
 changed into realities. Bodies exist, this is rigorously demon- 
 strated, faith being granted. Thus, I am assured that bodies exist 
 not only by the natural revelations of the sensations which God 
 gives me of them, but still more by the supernatural revelation 
 of faith. These then, my dear Aristes, are some great argu- 
 ments against a doubt which hardly occurs to the mind in a 
 natural way. There are few people sufficiently philosophical 
 to suggest it. And though one can raise difficulties in regard to 
 the existence of bodies, which appear to be insurmountable, 
 especially to those who do not know that God is bound to act 
 upon us in accordance with general laws, I do not believe that 
 anybody could ever seriously doubt their existence. It was 
 not, therefore, very necessary for us to stop at this point in 
 order to dispel a doubt which is fraught with so little danger. 
 For I am quite certain that you yourself have no need of all 
 that I have just told you in order to be assured that you are 
 at present with Theodore. 
 
ON METAPHYSICS 178 
 
 ARISTES. I am not so very sure of this. I am certain that 
 you are here. But that is because you are telling me things 
 which no other man would tell me, and which I should never 
 say to myself. For the rest, the love which I have for Theodore 
 is such that I seek him everywhere. How do I know whether 
 if this love grows stronger, though that seems hardly possible, 
 I shall always be able to distinguish between the true and false 
 Theodore ? 
 
 THEODORE. You are not wise, my dear Aristes. Will you 
 never abandon this habit of flattery? It is unworthy of a 
 philosopher. 
 
 ARISTES. You are severe indeed! I did not anticipate this 
 reply. 
 
 THEODORE. Nor I yours. I thought you were following 
 my argument. But your reply gives me ground for fearing 
 that you have not spoken to me of your doubt to no purpose. 
 Most men raise difficulties without reflection, and instead of 
 attending seriously to the replies which are made to them, they 
 are thinking of some repartee which should excite admiration 
 for the subtlety of their imagination. So far from mutually 
 instructing one another, they think only of flattering one 
 another. They corrupt one another by the secret encourage- 
 ment of the most criminal of passions; and, instead of suppress- 
 ing all those feelings which the thirst for pride excites in them, 
 instead of communicating to one another the true goods which 
 reason imparts to them, they pay homage to one another which 
 intoxicates and confuses them. 
 
 ARISTES. Ah, Theodore, how acutely I feel what you are 
 saying! But can you read my heart ? 
 
 THEODORE. No, Aristes. It is in my own heart that I 
 read what I am saying. It isin my own heart that I find this 
 mass of desires and vanity which makes me speak ill of the 
 human race. I only know of what takes place in your heart 
 by reference to what I feel in my own. I fear for you what I 
 am apprehensive of for myself. But I am not sufficiently rash 
 to judge of your actual dispositions. My manners surprise you. 
 They are harsh and awkward and boorish, if you like. But 
 what! Do you think that any sincere friendship based on 
 reason will take refuge in evasion and pretence ? You do not 
 know the privileges of the ‘‘ meditators.”” They have the 
 right to point out to their friends, without any ceremony, what- 
 
174 SIXTH DIALOGUE 
 
 ever they find to be objectionable in their conduct. I should 
 very much have liked, my dear Aristes, to have discerned in 
 your reply a little more simplicity and much more attention ; 
 I should have wished that in you reason would always have had 
 the upper hand, and that imagination would be suppressed. But 
 if it is at present too tired of its silence, let us leave meta- 
 physics. We can resume it another time. Do you know that 
 the ‘‘meditator’’ of whom I have spoken to you a few days 
 ago wishes to come here ? 
 
 ARISTES. Who? Theotimus! 
 
 THEODORE. Quite so. Theotimus himself. 
 
 ARISTES. How good of him! What a joy! What an 
 honour ! 
 
 THEODORE. He has learnt, I do not know how, that I am 
 here, and that we are philosophising together. For if Aristes is 
 anywhere, the fact is soonknown. That is so because everybody 
 is desirous of having him. That is what comes from being 
 a wit, and from having so many brilliant qualities. One is 
 bound to be everywhere in order to disappoint no one. One 
 no longer belongs to oneself. 
 
 ARISTES. What servitude ! 
 
 THEODORE. Do you wish to free yourself from it? Become 
 a thinker, and everyone will soon desert you. The great secret 
 for freeing oneself from the importunity of many people is 
 to talk rationally to them. This language which they do not 
 understand gets rid of them for ever without their having 
 cause for complaint. 
 
 ARISTES. That is true. But, with regard to Theotimus, 
 when shall we have him here ? | 
 
 IX. THEODORE. Whenever you like. 
 
 ARISTES. Well, I want you kindly to remind him con- 
 tinually that we are expecting him, and above all to assure 
 him that I am no longer what I used to be. But, pray, 
 let him not interrupt the sequence of our discussion. I give 
 up my doubt, Theodore. Yet I do not regret having sub- 
 mitted it to you. For by aid of the things you have told me 
 I can see the solution of a number of apparent contradictions 
 which I have been unable to harmonise with our notion of the 
 Divine. When we are asleep God causes us to see a thousand 
 objects which are not there. For He follows and is bound to 
 
ON METAPHYSICS 175 
 
 follow the general laws of the conjunction of body and 
 soul. It is not because He wills to deceive us. If He 
 acted upon us according to particular volitions we should 
 not see all these phantoms in our sleep. I am no longer sur- 
 prised at seeing monsters and all the irregularity of nature. I 
 see the cause of these in the simplicity of the ways of God. To 
 see innocence oppressed no longer surprises me; if the stronger 
 win the day usually it is because God rules the world according 
 to general laws and because He postpones to another time 
 the punishment of crimes. He is just, notwithstanding the 
 joyous success of infidels, notwithstanding the prosperity of 
 the armies of the most unjust conquerors. He is wise, though 
 the universe be full of productions wherein a thousand defects 
 can be found. He is unchangeable, though He seems to con- 
 tradict himself at every moment, though by means of hail He 
 ravages the earth which He had covered with fruit by an 
 abundance of rain. All these changes which contradict one 
 another do not indicate any contradiction or change in the 
 cause which produces them. On the contrary, God is steadily 
 following the same laws, and His mode of operation has no 
 relation to ours. If someone feels pain in an arm which he 
 no longer has, it is not because God has planned to deceive 
 him, it is solely because God does not change His designs but 
 follows His own laws strictly. It is because He approves of 
 them and will never condemn them; it is because nothing can 
 break the uniformity of His ways, nothing can oblige Him 
 to depart from what He has done. It seems to me, Theodore, 
 I can discern that the principle of general laws has an infinite 
 number of consequences of very great importance. 
 
 THEODORE. That is good, my dear Aristes; you rejoice my 
 heart. I did not think you were sufficiently attentive to grasp 
 the principles upon which the replies which I made to 
 you depend. It is well. But it will be necessary to 
 examine these principles thoroughly in order that you should 
 realise more clearly their soundness and their wonderful fruit- 
 fulness. For do not imagine that it will be sufficient for you 
 to get a glimpse of them, or even to have comprehended them, in 
 order to be in the position to apply them to all the difficulties 
 which depend upon them. It is necessary to master them by 
 practice and to acquire the faculty of bringing them into rela- 
 tion with all matters upon which they can throw light. But 
 
176 SIXTH DIALOGUE 
 
 I propose to postpone the examination of these principles until 
 the arrival of Theotimus. Meanwhile, try to discover by 
 yourself what are the things with which we have some con- 
 nection, what are the causes of these connections and what 
 their effects. For it is well that your mind should be prepared 
 for what is to be the subject of our discussion, in order that 
 you should be able the more easily to reprove me if I go astray, 
 or to follow me if I lead you straight to the goal to which all 
 our energies ought to be directed. 
 
SEVENTH DIALOGUE 
 
 The inefficacy of natural causes or the impotence of created things—We 
 are united immediately and direct to God alone. 
 
 A PROFUSE exchange of compliments took place between Aristes 
 and Theotimus, and the former, noticing that Theodore was 
 getting rather tired of that sort of conversation, and wishing 
 to let the newcomer have the honours of the battle of wits, 
 said no more, and Theodore, opening the discussion, thought it 
 his duty to say to Theotimus in favour of Aristes :-— 
 
 THEODORE. In truth, Theotimus, I did not think you were 
 such a gallant gentleman. You have obliged Aristes to yield, 
 he who never yields to anyone. That is a victory which would 
 be a great honour if you had gained it at Philander’s. But in 
 all probability it would have cost you dearer. For, make no 
 mistake, you have won because at home Aristes wishes to do the 
 honours. He yields here out of courtesy and out of a sort of duty. 
 
 THEOTIMUS. I have no doubt about it, Theodore. I see 
 quite well that he wishes to spare me. 
 
 ARISTES. Press me no further, I entreat you; or at least, 
 Theodore, leave me free to defend myself. 
 
 THEODORE. No, Aristes. All this is but idle talk. We shall 
 say no more, either of us. Let us speak of something more 
 important. Tell me, pray, anything that may have occurred 
 to you on the subject which I suggested in our last discussion. 
 What are the things with which we have some relation ? 
 What are the causes of these relations, and what their 
 effects? For we prefer to hear you philosophise rather than 
 to see ourselves overwhelmed with a profusion of kindness 
 and courtesies. 
 
 ARISTES. Do you think, Theodore, that I have been awake 
 all night in order to regale Theotimus with some studied speech ? 
 THEODORE. Let us leave all that and speak naturally. 
 
 12 177 
 
178 SEVENTH DIALOGUE 
 
 I. Artistes. It seems to me, Theodore, that there is nothing 
 to which I am more intimately united than my own body. For 
 it cannot be touched without disturbing me. As soon as it is 
 wounded I feel that I am injured, that I am hurt. There is 
 nothing more insignificant than the proboscis of those importunate 
 gnats that attack us on our evening walk ; and, nevertheless, how- 
 ever slightly they bury the imperceptible point of their venomous 
 proboscis into my skin, my soul feels pain. The mere noise 
 which they make in my ears alarms me—a sure indication that 
 I am more closely united to my body than to anything else. 
 Yes, Theodore, this is so true that it is really only through 
 our body that we are united to the objects of our environ- 
 ment. If the sun did not disturb my eyes it would be invisible 
 so far as I am concerned, and if, unfortunately for myself, I 
 were to become deaf, I should no longer find so much delight 
 in the intercourse I have with my friends. In fact, it is through 
 my body that I hold to my religion. It is through my ears 
 and my eyes that faith has entered into my mind and heart. 
 Thus it is through my body that I have everything. I am 
 therefore united to my body more intimately than to any other 
 thing. | 
 THEODORE. Have you meditated long, my dear Aristes, in 
 order to make this great discovery ? 
 
 TuHEoTIMUsS. All that may quite well be maintained, Theodore. 
 
 THEODORE. Yes, Theotimus, by people who consult only 
 their senses. Whom are you taking Aristes for if you approve 
 in his mouth that which any peasant might utter? I do not 
 recognise Aristes in this reply. 
 
 ARISTES. I see that I have made a very bad beginning. 
 
 THEODORE. Very bad indeed. I did not expect this sort 
 of beginning. For I did not believe that you would forget to-day 
 what you knew yesterday. But prejudices will always return 
 to the attack and deprive us of our conquests, if we do not know 
 how to maintain our position by our vigilance and good 
 intrenchments. Oh well! I submit to you that we are not 
 united to our body at all, much less are we more intimately 
 united to it than to anything else. I am using somewhat 
 extreme expressions so that they shall leave a vivid impression ~ 
 and that you may not forget what I am saying. No, Aristes, 
 to speak accurately and in all strictness, your mind is not and 
 cannot be united to your body, for it can be united only to that 
 
ON METAPHYSICS 179 
 
 which can act upon it. How do you think that your body can 
 act upon your mind? Do you think it is through your body that 
 you are rational, happy or unhappy, and so on? Is it your body 
 which unites you to God, to the Reason which enlightens you, 
 or is it God who unites you to your body and through your 
 body to everything in your environment ? 
 
 ARISTES. Of course, Theodore, it is God who has joined my 
 body to my mind. But can we notsay... 
 
 THEODORE. What? That it is your mind which now acts 
 upon your body and your body upon your mind? I understand 
 you. God has instituted this union of mind and body. But asa 
 result your body, and through it all objects, are capable of 
 acting upon the mind. That union once established, your 
 mind can act upon your body, and through it upon all 
 things in your environment. Can we not put the matter 
 thus ? 
 
 ARISTES. There is something here that I do not quite 
 understand. How is all this accomplished? I speak to you 
 now as though I had forgotten the best part of what you have 
 told me through neglecting to meditate upon it. 
 
 THEODORE. I have my doubts about that. You want me 
 to prove to you more exactly and with greater detail the 
 principles concerning which I have spoken hitherto. I must 
 try to satisfy you. But I ask you to give me your attention, 
 and you, Theotimus, to watch us both. 
 
 II. Do you think, Aristes, that matter, which, I take it, you 
 do not believe to be capable of moving itself or of modifying 
 itself, can ever modify a mind, make it happy or unhappy, 
 represent ideas to it, or give to it various feelings? Think 
 this over and answer me. 
 
 ARISTES. That does not seem to me possible. 
 
 THEODORE. Once again, think it over. Consult the idea 
 of extension, and judge by means of the idea which represents 
 all bodies or else nothing represents them whether they can 
 have any other property but the passive faculty of receiving 
 various figures and various movements. Is it not absolutely 
 evident that the properties of extension can consist in nothing 
 but relations of distance ? 
 
 ARISTES. That is clear, and I have already granted you all 
 
 that. 
 
180 SEVENTH DIALOGUE 
 
 THEODORE. Hence it is not possible that bodies should act 
 on minds. 
 
 ARISTES. Not in themselves or by means of their own force, 
 one might reply. But why should they not be able to do so 
 by means of a power which is the result of their union with 
 minds ? 
 
 THEODORE. Why do you say by means of a power which 
 is the result of their union? These general terms convey 
 nothing to my mind. Remember, Aristes, the principle of clear 
 ideas. If you abandon it, you will at once be enveloped in 
 obscurity. At the first step you will fall over the precipice. 
 I can understand quite well that bodies, in consequence of 
 certain natural laws, can act upon our mind in the sense that 
 their modifications determine the activity of the divine volitions 
 or of the general laws of the conjunction of body and soul, 
 all of which I will explain to you soon. But that bodies 
 should in themselves be capable of receiving a certain power 
 by the efficacy of which they can act upon the mind I cannot 
 understand. For what would this power be? Would it be a 
 substance or a mode? If a substance, then the bodies do not 
 act, but only this substance in bodies. If this power is a mode, 
 then there is a mode in bodies which will be neither movement 
 nor figure. Extension, therefore, will have modes other than 
 relations of distance. But really, why should I dwell on this 
 point ? It is for you, Aristes, to give me some idea of the power 
 which you conceive to be the effect of the conjunction of body 
 and soul. 
 
 ARISTES. We do not know, one might reply, what this power 
 is. But what can you infer from this confession of our ignor- 
 ance ? 
 
 THEODORE. That it is better to say nothing than not to 
 know what one is saying. 
 
 ARISTES. Agreed. But one is saying only what one knows 
 when one maintains that bodies act on minds, for nothing is 
 more certain. Experience does not permit us to doubt that. 
 
 THEODORE. I doubt it very much, nevertheless, or rather 
 I do not believe it at all. Experience teaches me that I feel 
 pain, for example, when a pin pricks me. That is certain. 
 But here let us stop, for experience does not teach us that 
 a pin can act on our mind nor that it has any power. Let 
 us believe none of this, I advise you. 
 
ON METAPHYSICS 181 
 
 III. Artistes. I do not believe, Theodore, that a pin can act 
 upon my mind. Butit might be said perhaps that it can act upon 
 my body and through my body upon my mind in consequence 
 of their conjunction, for I admit that matter cannot act imme- 
 diately on a mind. Note the word, tmmedtately. 
 
 THEODORE. But your body, is it not matter ? 
 
 ARISTES. Yes, certainly. 
 
 THEODORE. Your body, then, cannot act tmmedtately upon 
 your mind. Thus, if your finger be pricked by a pin, 
 though your brain be disturbed by its action, neither the one 
 nor the other can act upon your soul or cause it to feel pain ; 
 for neither the one nor the other can act immediately upon 
 the mind, since your brain and your finger are nothing but 
 matter. 
 
 ARISTES. ‘Neither is it my soul which produces in itself this 
 feeling of pain which afflicts it, for it suffers pain despite itself ; 
 I am obviously aware that the pain comes from some external 
 cause. Thus your reasoning proves too much. I see quite well 
 that you are going to say that it is God who causes my pain in 
 me, and I agree; but He causes it only in consequence of the 
 general laws of the conjunction of body and soul. 
 
 THEODORE. What do you mean, Aristes? All that is true. 
 Explain your meaning more distinctly. 
 
 ARISTES. I believe, Theodore, that God has united my mind 
 to my body so that in consequence of this union my mind and 
 my body can act reciprocally upon one another, in virtue of 
 the natural laws which God always follows very closely. That 
 is all I have to say. 
 
 THEODORE. You do not explain yourself, Aristes. It is 
 a sufficiently good indication that you do not understand. 
 Union, general laws—what kind of reality do you understand 
 by these terms ? 
 
 THEOTIMUS. Apparently, Aristes believes that these terms 
 are clear and without ambiguity because custom has made them 
 very common, for when one often repeats an obscure or false 
 thing without having even examined it one finds it difficult to 
 believe that it is not true. This word ‘‘ union ’”’ is one of the 
 most ambiguous of words. But it is so common and con- 
 venient that it passes everywhere without hindrance on the 
 part of anyone, without anyone examining whether it calls up 
 within the mind any distinct idea; for nothing that is familiar 
 
182 SEVENTH DIALOGUE 
 
 receives that attention without which it is impossible to under- 
 stand; and all that affects the imagination pleasantly seems 
 very clear to the mind which mistrusts nothing when it is 
 paid in cash. , 
 
 ARISTES. What, Theotimus, are you quite of the same opinion 
 as Theodore ? Can one be in doubt as to whether the soul 
 and the body are united in the closest way conceivable? I 
 would willingly believe that you have conspired to confuse my 
 mind and to amuse yourself at my expense if I were not con- 
 vinced that you are too good to have so uncharitable a design. 
 
 THEOTIMUS. You area little too prejudiced, Aristes. Theodore 
 maintains part of the truth, and if he exaggerates a little, it is 
 in order toset usright. He sees that the weight of our prejudices 
 drags us down, and his violence is meant only to hold us back. 
 Let us listen to him, I beg of you. 
 
 IV. THEODORE. You maintain, Aristes, that your soul is 
 joined to your body more closely than to any other thing. Well, 
 for the moment I agree; but I do so on condition that you on 
 your part will undertake for a day or two not to account for 
 certain effects by means of principles which neither you nor I 
 understand. Is not that quite reasonable ? 
 
 ARISTES. Only too reasonable. But what do you mean? 
 
 THEODORE. This. There is the closest union in the world 
 between your mind and your body. Eh! How can we doubt 
 it? But you cannot say what precisely this union is. Let us 
 not use it, therefore, as a principle for explaining the effects 
 of the causes for which we are in search. 
 
 ARISTES. But what ifthese effects depend uponit necessarily ? 
 
 THEODORE. If they depend upon it we shall be obliged to 
 come back to it. But let us not assume this. If I asked you, 
 Aristes, how it is that when I merely draw the arm of this chair 
 all the remaining parts follow, would you believe that you had 
 sufficiently explained the effect to me by replying that this 
 is due to the union between the arm of this chair and the 
 other parts which compose it? Assuredly, Theotimus would 
 not be satisfied with such a reply. Children may be permitted 
 to answer thus, but not philosophers, unless on occasions when 
 they are not philosophising. In order to satisfy Theotimus on 
 this question, it would be necessary to get back to the physical 
 cause of that union of the parts which constitute hard bodies, 
 
ON METAPHYSICS 183 
 
 and to demonstrate to him that the hardness of bodies can 
 come only from the compression of an invisible matter which 
 surrounds them.! This word “ union,’’ then, explains nothing. 
 It is itself in need of explanation. Thus, Aristes, you may like 
 to take vague and general words for reasons. But do not think 
 you can pay us in this coin, for though many people accept it 
 and are satisfied with it, we are not so easily dealt with, owing 
 to the fear which we have of being deceived. 
 
 ARISTES. What do you want me to do? Iam paying you 
 in a coin which I have accepted as good. I have no better. 
 And since it has currency in the world, you might be satisfied 
 with it. But let us just see in what way you yourself pay 
 people. Prove to me by good arguments that bodies and minds 
 mutually act onone another without having recourse to their union. 
 
 THEODORE. Let us not assume, Aristes, that they mutually 
 act upon one another, but only that their modifications are 
 reciprocal. Assume precisely nothing but what experience 
 teaches you, and try to be attentive to what I am going to say. 
 Do you think that one body can act upon another and set it 
 in motion ? 
 
 ARISTES. Who can deny it? 
 
 V. THEODORE. Theotimus and I, and soon perhaps Aristes, 
 for there is a contradiction—a contradiction I say—in maintain- 
 ing that bodies can act upon bodies. I will prove this paradox 
 to you, which seems so contrary to experience, so opposed to 
 philosophical tradition, so incredible to the learned and ignorant 
 alike. Tell me: can a body move itself? Pray consult the 
 idea which you have of bodies, for always remember that one 
 must judge of things by the ideas which represent them, and 
 not by the sensations which we have of them.? 
 
 ARISTES. No, I do not see that bodies can set themselves 
 in motion by themselves. But neither do I see that they 
 cannot do so. I am in doubt about it. : 
 
 THEODORE. You do well to doubt and to stop short where 
 you do not see clearly. But try to see clearly and to dispel 
 your doubt. Courage! Let us advance. 
 
 ARISTES. I am afraid of taking a false step for lack of light. 
 Enlighten me a little. 
 
 t Recherche, Bk. II, last chapter. 
 4 Dialogues III, IV, V. 
 
184 SEVENTH DIALOGUE 
 
 THEODORE. Consult clear ideas attentively, my dear Aristes. 
 It is they that bring to attentive minds the light of which you 
 are in need. Contemplate the archetype of bodies, intelligible 
 extension. It is that which represents them, since it is in 
 accordance with it that they have been formed. This idea is 
 all-luminous. Consult it then. Do you not see clearly that 
 bodies can be moved, but that they cannot move themselves ? 
 You hesitate. Well, let us suppose that this chair can of itself 
 set itself in motion, in which direction will it go and with 
 what degree of velocity when it is inclined to set itself 
 in motion? Give it, then, some intelligence and a will capable 
 of determining it. In a word, make a man of your chair. 
 Otherwise this power of movement will be quite useless to it. 
 
 ARISTES. A man of my chair! What a strange thought ! 
 
 THEOTIMUS. Only too common and true, as Theodore sees. 
 Forallthose who judge of things by themselves or by the sensations 
 which they have of them, and not by the ideas which represent 
 them, make of all objects something that resembles themselves. 
 They make God act like a man. They attribute to beasts 
 what they feel in themselves. They give to fire and the other 
 elements inclinations of which they have no other idea than 
 the feeling which they have of them. Thus they humanise 
 all things. But do not delay over this. Follow Theodore 
 and answer him. 
 
 ARISTES. I quite believe that this chair cannot move itself. 
 But how do I know that there is no other body to which God 
 has given the power of moving itself? Remember, Theodore, 
 that you have to prove it to be a contradiction that bodies 
 can act upon one another. 
 
 VI. THEODORE. Well, Aristes, I shall prove it to you. It 
 is a contradiction that a body should be neither at rest nor in 
 movement ; for God Himself, though all-powerful, cannot create 
 a body which should be nowhere and which should not stand 
 to any other body in some special relation. Every body is at 
 rest when it preserves the same relation of distance to other 
 bodies ; it is in motion when this relation keeps on changing 
 incessantly. Now, it is evident that every body either changes 
 or does not change its relation of distance. There is no middle 
 course between these alternatives, for these two propositions, 
 it changes, it does not change, are contradictory. It is, 
 
ON METAPHYSICS 185 
 
 therefore, a contradiction that a body should be neither at rest 
 nor in motion. 
 
 ARISTES, This was in need of no proof. 
 
 THEODORE. Now, it is the will of God which gives existence 
 to bodies and to all created things, the existence of which, 
 certainly, is not necessary. As this will which has created them 
 abides for ever, they too abide, and should this will cease to 
 be—I speak of God according to our way of conceiving—it follows 
 necessarily that bodies would cease to be. It is, therefore, 
 this very will which keeps bodies at rest or puts them in motion, 
 since it is this will which gives them being, and since they 
 could not exist if they were not either at rest or in motion. 
 For, observe, God cannot accomplish the impossible or whatever 
 involves a manifest contradiction; He cannot will that which 
 cannot be conceived. He cannot will that this chair should 
 be, without willing at the same time that it should be either 
 here or there, and without His will putting it here or there, since 
 you cannot conceive of the chair as existing unless it exists 
 somewhere, here or elsewhere. 
 
 ARISTES, It seems to me, nevertheless, that I can think of 
 a body without conceiving of it as either at rest or in motion. 
 
 THEODORE. That is not what I am saying. You can think 
 of a body in general and make whatever abstractions you like, 
 I agree. It is this which always misleads you. But, once 
 more, I say that you cannot conceive of a body as existing 
 unless you conceive of it as existing somewhere, and as changing 
 or not changing the relation in which it stands to other bodies, 
 and consequently as being either at rest or in motion. Hence 
 there is a contradiction involved in saying that God makes a 
 body without His making it either at rest or in motion. 
 
 ARISTES. Oh well, Theodore, I admit that. When God 
 creates a body it follows at once that He makes it either at rest 
 or in motion. But the moment of creation once passed, that 
 is no longer so. Bodies then arrange themselves according to 
 chance, or according to the law of the strongest, 
 
 VII. THEODORE. The moment of creation once passed! 
 But if that moment never passes away, you are driven into a 
 corner, you will have to yield. Observe then. God wills that 
 a world shall come to be. His will being omnipotent, that world 
 is at once an accomplished fact. Let God will no more that 
 
186 SEVENTH DIALOGUE 
 
 there should be a world, and the world will be annihilated, for 
 assuredly the world depends upon the will of the Creator. If, 
 then, the world subsists, it is because God continues to will that 
 there should be a world The conservation of created beings 
 is, therefore, so far as God is concerned, their continuous creation, 
 I say so far as God is concerned, for so far as the created beings 
 are concerned there is a difference, since in and through the 
 act of creation they pass from non-being to being, whereas 
 through the act of conservation they continue to be. But in 
 truth the act of creation never ceases, since in God conservation 
 and creation are but one and the same volition, and in con- 
 sequence are necessarily followed by the same effects. 
 
 ARISTES. I understand your reasons, Theodore, but I am 
 not convinced, for the proposition, ‘‘let God will no more 
 that there should be a world and it will be annihilated,’ 
 seems to me false. It seems to me that it is not enough for 
 the annihilation of the world that God should will no more 
 that the world should be. It is necessary that He should will 
 positively that it should be no more. For doing nothing, 
 no volition is necessary. Thus, now that the world is an 
 accomplished fact, let God but leave it there, it will remain 
 for ever. 
 
 VIII. THEODORE. You are not thinking about the matter, 
 Aristes. You are making created things independent. You judge 
 of God and His works by the works of man, which presuppose 
 nature and do not make it. Your house continues to exist, 
 though its architect be dead. That is because its foundations 
 are solid and because it has no connection with the life of him 
 who built it. It does not depend upon the latter in any way. 
 The ground of our being, on the other hand, depends essentially 
 upon the Creator. And though the arrangement of some stones 
 depends in some sense upon the will of men in consequence of 
 the action of natural causes, the accomplished work is not 
 thus dependent. The universe, on the other hand, having 
 been created out of nothing, depends so much upon the uni- 
 versal Cause that it would relapse into non-being necessarily 
 if God ceased to conserve it. For God does not will, and 
 indeed cannot make, a created thing which is independent of 
 His volitions. 
 
 ARISTES. JI admit, Theodore, that there is an essential rela- 
 
ON METAPHYSICS 187 
 
 tion, connection, or dependence between created things and the 
 Creator. But cannot one say that to retain for the created 
 things their dependent nature it is enough that God should be 
 able to annihilate them whenever He pleases ? 
 
 THEODORE. No, emphatically no, my dear Aristes. What 
 greater mark of independence is there than unaided self-sub- 
 sistence ? To speak accurately, your house does not depend 
 upon you. Why? Because it subsists without you. You can 
 put it to the flames whenever it pleases you, but you do not 
 sustain it. That is why there is no essential relation of depen- 
 dence between you and it. Thus, though God could destroy 
 all created things whenever it pleased Him, so long as they could 
 subsist without the continual influence of the Creator, they 
 would not be essentially dependent upon Him. To become 
 entirely convinced of the truth of what I am saying, suppose 
 for a moment that God does not exist. The universe, according 
 to your view, would not cease to exist, for a cause which has 
 no influence is no more necessary for the production of an effect 
 than a cause which does not exist. That is evident. Now, 
 on this supposition you could not conceive the world as 
 essentially dependent upon the Creator, since the Creator is now 
 conceived as no longer existing. It is true that this supposition 
 is impossible. But the mind can separate or join things as it 
 pleases in order to ascertain the relation between them. Hence, 
 if bodies are essentially dependent upon the Creator, they need, 
 in order to exist, to be sustained by His continuous influence, 
 by the efficacy of the same will which has created them. If 
 God merely ceases to will their being, it follows necessarily and 
 clearly from this alone that they would be no longer, for if they 
 continued to be, though God continued no more to will that 
 they should be, they would be independent, and indeed so 
 independent that God could no longer destroy them. This I 
 am going to prove to you. 
 
 IX. A God who is infinitely wise cannot will anything which 
 is, so to speak, unworthy of being willed; He cannot love any- 
 thing which is not lovable. Now, non-being has nothing which 
 is lovable. Non-being cannot, therefore, be the object of the 
 divine will. Assuredly non-being has not enough reality, seeing 
 that it has none at all, to stand in any relation with God’s 
 activity—an activity of infinite worth. It follows that God 
 
188 SEVENTH DIALOGUE 
 
 cannot will in a positive manner the annihilation of the world. 
 Created beings alone can, either through lack of power or through 
 error, take non-being as the object of their volition. That is 
 because a given object can hinder the fulfilment of their desire, 
 or because they imagine it can do so. But if you think it 
 over, you will see that nothing is more obvious than that a 
 God who is infinitely wise and omnipotent cannot, without 
 belying His own nature, display His own power in doing nothing, 
 nay, in destroying His own work. It is impossible, I say, for God 
 to exert His power not in remedying a disorder which He has not 
 given rise to, but in annihilating the beings which He has made. 
 Thus, Aristes, on the supposition that for the annihilation of 
 the world it is not enough that God should cease to will its 
 being, on the supposition that it is needful in addition that 
 God should will positively that it should be no more, I maintain 
 that the world is necessary and independent, since God could 
 not destroy it without renouncing His own attributes, and since 
 there is a contradiction in saying that He could renounce them. 
 
 Do not lessen, therefore, the dependent character of created 
 things, lest you should incur the impiety of ruining it altogether. 
 God can annihilate them whenever He pleases, as you say. 
 Yet that is so because He can cease to will that which He has 
 been free to will. As He is fully self-sufficient, He loves irre- 
 sistibly His own substance alone. The will to create the world, 
 though eternal and immutable, just as all immanent operations 
 are, involves nothing that is necessary. Since God was able to 
 form the decree for the creation of the world, He is always able 
 to cease to will that the world should be; not because the act 
 of His decree has the power to be or not to be, but because 
 this immutable and eternal act is perfectly free, and because 
 it involves the eternal duration of created beings only on the 
 supposition that what God has willed from all eternity He will 
 continue to will unto all eternity ; or, to speak more accurately, 
 God wills without ceasing, but without variety, succession or 
 necessity, all that He is about to give rise to in the course of time. 
 The act of His eternal decree, though simple and immutable, 
 is necessary only because He is. It is incapable of not being 
 only because He is; but it is, only because God wills its being. 
 For just as a man, while he is moving his arm, is free not to 
 move it, though on the supposition that it is being moved it is 
 contradictory to say that it is not being moved, so, since God 
 
ON METAPHYSICS 189 
 
 wills always and without succession whatever He wills, His 
 decrees, though immutable, do not on that account cease to 
 be free, for they are necessary only by reason of the pre-supposi- 
 tion—only, that is to say, because God is immutable in His 
 designs. But I am afraid I am digressing; let us return to 
 our subject. Are you convinced now that created things are 
 essentially dependent upon the Creator, so dependent that they 
 cannot subsist without His influence, that they can continue 
 to be only because He continues to will that they should be? 
 
 ARISTES. I have done all in my power to resist your argu- 
 ments, but I yield. I have nothing to reply. The dependence 
 of created things is quite different in character from what I 
 thought. 
 
 X. THEODORE. Let us then resume what we have just been 
 saying, and draw our conclusions from it. But take care that I 
 do not draw any inferences which are not clearly involved in 
 the principle. 
 
 The act of « creation never ceases, the conservation of created 
 
 things being on the part of God merely a continuous creation, 
 merely an act of volition which persists and operates without _ 
 ceasing. ‘Now, God cannot conceive and hence cannot will that 
 a body should be ‘nowhere, or that it should stand to other bodies 
 in no relation of ‘distance. | 1 God cannot will that this chair 
 should exist and by this act of will create and preserve it, unless 
 He ‘places it here or there or elsewhere.’ Hence, there is a con- 
 tradiction in saying that one body can move another. I go 
 further. There is a contradiction in saying that you can 
 move your chair, if Nay, more, there is a contradiction in_main- 
 taining that all the angels and demons together can move 
 a bit of straw. .The proof.of this.is.clear. No power, however 
 vast it may be imagined to be, can surpass or. even equal the 
 power of God. _Now, there is a contradiction in saying that 
 God could will that this chair should be, unless He at the same 
 time wills that it should be somewhere and unless. He places 
 it there by the efficacy of His will, unless He keeps it there, 
 creates it there. It follows that no power can transport it 
 whither God does not transport it, nor fix or keep it where God 
 does not fix or keep it, if it is God alone who adapts the efficacy 
 of His actions to the ineffective.actions.of.His creations.’ This 
 it is necessary to explain to you in order to harmonise reason 
 
190 SEVENTH DIALOGUE 
 
 with experience and in order to make you understand the 
 greatest, most fruitful and necessary of all principles, namely, that 
 God communicates His power to created beings only because He 
 has made their modifications the occasional causes of the effects 
 which He produces in Himself—occasional causes, I say, which 
 determine the activity of His volitions in consequence of the 
 general laws which He has prescribed to Himself, in order to make 
 His mode of operation bear the character of His attributes and to 
 display in His work that uniformity of action which is necessary 
 in order to link together the parts which compose it and to save 
 it from the irregularity and confusion of a kind of chaos wherein 
 minds could never understand anything. I am saying this, my 
 dear Aristes, in order to give you enthusiasm and to arouse your 
 attention, for, as what I have said about the movement and rest 
 of matter may seem to you of little importance, you might 
 perhaps suppose that principles so insignificant and simple 
 could never lead you to the great and important truths which 
 you have already half seen, and upon which is based almost 
 all that I have said hitherto. 
 
 ARISTES. Do not fear, Theodore, that I shall lose sight of 
 you. I am following you, it seems to me, quite closely, and 
 you delight me in such a way that I feel carried away. Courage, 
 then! I shall know how to stop you if you pass too lightly 
 over certain positions which are too difficult or too dangerous 
 for me 
 
 XI. THEODORE. Let us suppose, then, Aristes, that God wills 
 that there shall be a certain body upon this floor, say a ball; 
 forthwith this is accomplished. Nothing is more movable 
 than a sphere upon a plane, but all the powers imaginable could 
 not disturb it so long as God does not intervene; for, once again, 
 so long as God wills to create or keep this ball at the point A, 
 or at any other point you please, and of necessity He must place 
 it somewhere, no force could make it leave that point. Do not 
 forget this; it is the basal principle. 
 
 ARISTES. I hold it in mind, this principle. The Creator 
 alone can be the mover, only He who gives being to bodies can 
 put them in the places which they occupy. 
 
 THEODORE. Very well. The moving force of a body is, 
 therefore, nothing but the activity of God’s will which conserves 
 it successively in different places. This being granted, let us 
 
ON METAPHYSICS 191 
 
 suppose that this ball is set in motion, and that in the line of 
 its motion it meets with another ball at rest. Experience 
 teaches us that this other ball will move without fail, and 
 according to a certain velocity always exactly observed. 
 Now, it is not the first ball which sets the second in motion. This 
 is clear from our principle, for a body cannot move another 
 without communicating to it its moving force. But the moving 
 force of a body in motion is nothing but the will of the Creator 
 who keeps it successively in different places. It is not a quality 
 which belongs to the body itself. Nothing belongs to it but its 
 own modifications; and modifications are inseparable from 
 substances. Hence bodies cannot move one another, and 
 their encounter or shock is merely an occasional cause for the 
 distribution of their movement. For being impenetrable, it is 
 a kind of necessity that God, who I suppose acts always with 
 the same efficacy or the same quantity of moving force, should, 
 so to speak, distribute the force in proportion to the size of each 
 of the bodies which come into contact, which at the moment 
 of the shock may be looked upon as being no more than one, 
 in order that they should move together toward the same spot, 
 provided that their movements are not contrary and that they 
 are in the same line; for, if they were directly contrary, it would 
 be necessary to make a reciprocal permutation ; and, if they were 
 only partially contrary, the permutation would be in propor- 
 tion Let not the rebounding of bodies and the increase of their 
 motion—an effect known by experience—deceive you. All 
 this is due to their elasticity, which depends upon so many 
 causes that to deal with them here would be to abandon the 
 road which we are to follow. God always moves or tends to 
 move bodies in a straight line, because this line is the simplest 
 and the shortest. When bodies meet, He changes the direction 
 of their movement as little as possible, and I believe that He 
 never changes the quantity of the moving force which animates 
 matter. Upon these principles are founded the general laws of 
 the communication of movements in accordance with which 
 God acts incessantly. This is not the time to prove my contention, 
 because it is sufficient for the present that you should know that 
 bodies can neither set themselves in motion nor any bodies 
 which they meet,—facts which our reasoning has just shown, and 
 that there are certain laws in accordance with which God moves 
 them unfailingly—a fact which experience teaches us. 
 
192 SEVENTH DIALOGUE 
 
 ARISTES. This seems to me incontestable. But what do you 
 think of this, Theotimus? You never contradict Theodore. 
 
 XII. THEotrmus. I have been convinced of these truths for 
 a long time. But since you wish me to contest Theodore’s 
 opinion, I ask you to solve a little difficulty. Here it is. I 
 quite understand that a body cannot of itself set itself in motion ; 
 but supposing it to be once moved, I maintain that it can set 
 another body in motion, as a cause between which and its effect 
 there is a necessary connection. For let us suppose that God 
 had not yet established laws for the communication of motion, 
 there would then in that case be no occasional causes. This 
 being so, let the body A be set in motion, and in following the 
 line of its motion let it slip on the body B, which I suppose 
 to be concave and as the mould of the body A. What will 
 happen ? Decide. 
 
 ARISTES. What will happen? Nothing, for when there Is 
 no cause there can be no effect. 
 
 THEOTIMUS. What? Nothing? Something new must take 
 place, for the body B will either be moved in consequence of 
 the shock, or it will not be moved. 
 
 ARISTES. It will not be. 
 
 THEOTIMUS. So far, so good. But, Aristes, what becomes of 
 the body A when it meets B? Either it will rebound or not. 
 If it rebounds, we have a new effect of which B is the cause. 
 If not, the matter is worse still, for we have then a force 
 which is destroyed, or at least which does not act. The 
 shock of bodies, then, is not an occasional cause, but a 
 very real and veritable cause, since there is a necessary 
 connection between the shock and such effect as you choose. 
 This es 
 
 ARISTES. Wait a moment, Theotimus. What is it you 
 are proving? That bodies being impenetrable, it follows 
 necessarily that at the moment of the shock God determines 
 to make a choice with regard to what you have just put before 
 me. That is all. I am not alarmed. You do not prove at all 
 that a body in motion can by virtue of something which belongs 
 to it move whatever it encounters. If God had not as yet 
 established the laws for the communication of motion, the nature 
 of bodies, their impenetrability, would constrain Him to make 
 such laws. as He deemed fit, and He would determine Himself 
 
ON METAPHYSICS 198 
 
 in accordance with those laws which are the simplest, if these 
 latter were sufficient for the execution of the works which He 
 willed to form out of matter. But it is clear that impenetrability 
 has no efficacy of its own, and that it can only give God, who 
 deals with things in accordance with their nature, an occasion 
 for varying or diversifying His activity without changing any- 
 thing in His mode of operation. 
 
 Nevertheless, I am quite content to say that a body in 
 motion is the true cause of the movement of those bodies which 
 it encounters, for we must not quarrel about words. But what is 
 a body in motion? It is a body transported by a divine act. 
 The act which transports it can also transport that which it 
 meets if it is directed upon it. Who calls this in question ? 
 Yet this act, this moving force, belongs in no way to bodies. 
 It is the activity of the will of Him who creates them or con- 
 serves them successively in different places. Matter is essen- 
 tially movable. It has, by its nature, a passive capacity for 
 movement. But it has no active capacity ; it is actually moved 
 only by the continual action of the Creator. Thus, no body 
 can disturb another body by any activity which belongs to its 
 own nature. If bodies had in themselves the force to set 
 themselves in motion, the strongest would subvert those which 
 they encountered, as efficient causes; but being moved only by 
 another force, their contact or encounter is only an occasional 
 cause which, because of their impenetrability, constrains the mover 
 or Creator to distribute His action. And because God is bound to 
 act in a simple and uniform way, He had to make general laws 
 and the simplest possible ones, in order that when a change 
 is necessary He should change as little as is possible, and in 
 order that by the same mode of operation He should produce 
 an infinity of different effects. It is thus, Theotimus, that I 
 understand these matters. 
 
 THEOTIMUS. You understand them very well. 
 
 XIII. THEopoRE. Perfectly well. Weare, accordingly, agreed 
 upon the principle. Let us pursue it a little further. You cannot, 
 then, Aristes, of yourself move your arm or alter your position, 
 situation, posture, do to other men good or evil, or effect the 
 least change in the world. You find yourself in the world, 
 without any power, immovable as a rock, stupid, so to speak, 
 as a log of wood. Let your soul be united to your body as 
 
 13 
 
194 SEVENTH DIALOGUE 
 
 closely as you please, let there come about a union between it 
 and all the bodies of your environment. What advantage would 
 you derive from this imaginary union? What would you do 
 in order merely to move the tip of your finger, or to utter even 
 a monosyllable ? Alas! unless God came to your aid, your 
 efforts would be vain, the desires which you formed impotent ; 
 for just think, do you know what is necessary for the pronun- 
 ciation of your best friend’s name, or for bending or holding 
 up that particular finger which you use most? But let us 
 suppose that you know quite well what no one knows, about 
 which even some scientists are not agreed, namely, that the arm 
 can be moved only by means of the animal spirits, which flowing 
 along the nerves to the muscles make them contract and draw 
 towards themselves the bones to which they are attached. Let us 
 suppose that you are acquainted with the anatomy and the action of 
 your mechanism as well as a clockmaker is acquainted with his 
 handiwork. But, at any rate, remember the principle that no one 
 but the Creator of bodies can be their mover. This principle is 
 sufficient to bind, indeed to annihilate, all your boasted faculties ; 
 for, after all, the animal spirits are bodies, however small they 
 may be. They are, indeed, nothing but the subtlest parts of 
 the blood and the humours. God alone, then, is able to move these 
 small bodies. He alone knows how to make them flow from 
 the brain along the nerves, from the nerves through the muscles, 
 from one muscle to its antagonist—all of which is necessary 
 for the movement of our limbs. It follows that, notwithstanding 
 the conjuction of soul and body in whatever way it may please 
 you to imagine it, you would be dead and inert if it were not 
 for the fact that God wills to adapt his volitions to yours—His 
 volitions, which are always effective, to your desires, which 
 are always impotent. This then, my dear Aristes, is the solu- 
 tion of the mystery. All creatures are united to God alone in 
 an immediate union. They depend essentially and directly 
 upon Him. Being all alike equally impotent, they cannot be © 
 in reciprocal dependence upon one another. One may, indeed, ~ 
 say that they are united to one another and that they depend ~ 
 upon one another. I grant this, provided it is not understood 
 in the ordinary and vulgar sense of the term, provided that one _ 
 agrees that they are so only in consequence of the immutable — 
 and ever effective will of the Creator, only in consequence of — 
 the general laws which He has established, and by means of © 
 
ON METAPHYSICS 195 
 
 which He regulates the ordinary course of His providence.“ God 
 has willed that my arm shall be set in motion at the instant 
 that I will it myself (given the necessary conditions). His will 
 is efficacious, His will is immutable, it alone is the source of 
 my power and faculties. He has willed that I should experi- 
 ence certain feelings, certain emotions, whenever there are 
 present in my brain certain traces, or whenever a certain 
 disturbance takes place therein. In a word, He has willed 
 —He wills incessantly—that the modifications of the mind and 
 those of the body shall be reciprocal. This is the con- 
 junction and the natural dependence of the two parts of 
 which we are constituted. It is but the mutual and reciprocal 
 dependence of our modifications based on the unshakable 
 foundation of the divine decrees—decrees which through their 
 efficacy endow me with the power which I have over my body, 
 and through it over certain other bodies—decrees which through 
 their immutability unite me with my body, and through it to 
 my friends, my possessions, my whole environment. I derive 
 nothing whatever from my own nature, nothing from the nature 
 imagined by the philosophers—all comes from God and His 
 decrees. God has linked together all His works, though He 
 has not on that account produced in them entities charged with 
 the function of union. He has subordinated them to one another 
 without endowing them with active qualities. The latter are but 
 the vain pretensions of human pride, the chimerical productions of 
 the philosophers’ ignorance. Men’s senses being affected by the 
 presence of objects, their minds being moved by the inner feeling 
 which they have of their own movements, they have not recog- 
 nised the invisible operations of the Creator, the uniformity of 
 His mode of action, the fruitfulness of His laws, the ever-present 
 efficacy of His volitions, the infinite wisdom of His providence. 
 Do not say any more, my dear Aristes, that your soul is united 
 to your body more intimately than to anything else; since its 
 immediate union is with God alone, since the divine decrees 
 are the indissoluble bonds of union between the various parts 
 of the universe and of the marvellous network of all the sub- 
 ordinate causes. 
 
 XIV. ArisTEs. Ah, Theodore, how clear, how sound and how 
 Christian your principles are! Moreover, how estimable and affect- 
 ing! Iamdeeply moved by them. What! It is then God Himself 
 
196 SEVENTH DIALOGUE 
 
 who is present in the midst of us, not as a mere spectator nor as an 
 observer of our good and bad actions, but as the principle of our 
 society, the bond of our friendship, the soul, so to speak, of the 
 intercourse and communication which we have with one another. 
 I can speak to you only through the efficacy of His powers, 
 touch you or disturb you only by means of the movement which 
 He communicates to me. I do not even know what arrange- 
 ment of organs is necessary in order to make my voice utter 
 what I am saying to you without any hesitation. The play 
 of these organs is beyond me. The variety of words, tones, 
 modulations, is almost infinite in detail. God knows this 
 detail, He alone regulates the movement at the very instant 
 of my desire Yes, He alone drives back the air which He has 
 Himself made me breathe. He alone produces by means of my 
 organs the vibrations and disturbances which are necessary. 
 He alone diffuses them and makes out of them the words 
 by the aid of which I can reach your mind and pour into your 
 heart what mine can no longer keep within itself. In truth, 
 it is not I who breathe; I breathe despite myself. It is 
 not I who speak to you; I merely wish to speak to you. 
 But suppose my breath did depend upon myself, suppose I 
 knew exactly what to do in order to explain myself, suppose 
 I could form words and give them utterance, how would they 
 reach you, how strike your ears, how disturb your brain or affect 
 your heart, were it not for the efficacy of the divine power which 
 links together all the parts of the universe? Yes, Theodore, 
 all this is a necessary consequence of the laws of the conjunction 
 of soul and body and of the communication of motion. All 
 this depends upon these two principles, of which I am convinced, 
 that none but the Creator of bodies can be their mover, and 
 that God communicates His power to us only through the estab- 
 lishment of certain general laws, the realisation of which we 
 determine through our various modifications. Ah, Theodore 
 and Theotimus, God alone is the bond of our society. May He be 
 its end, since He is its originating cause! Let us not abuse 
 His power. Unhappy they who make use of it for their criminal 
 passions! Nothing is more sacred than power, nothing more 
 divine. It is a kind of sacrilege to make a profane use of it; 
 now I see that to do this would mean to make the just avenger 
 of crimes assist in iniquity. Of ourselves we can do nothing, 
 hence of ourselves we ought to will nothing. We can act only 
 
ee 
 
 ON METAPHYSICS 197 
 
 through the efficacy of the divine power, hence we ought to 
 will nothing except in accordance with the divine law. Nothing 
 is more evident than these truths. 
 
 THEODORE. These are excellent conclusions. 
 
 XV. THEOTIMUS. They are wonderful principles for ethics. 
 But let us return to metaphysics. Our soul is not united to 
 our body in the ordinary sense of these terms. It is immediately 
 and directly united to God alone. It is through the efficacy 
 of His action alone that the three of us are here together; nay, 
 more, that we all share the same opinion, are penetrated by 
 the same truth, animated, it seems to me, by the same spirit, 
 kindled with the same enthusiasm. God joins us together by 
 means of the body, in consequence of the laws of the com- 
 munication of movements. He affects us with the same feelings 
 in consequence of the laws of the conjunction of body and 
 soul. But, Aristes, how comes it about that we are so 
 strongly united in mind? Theodore utters some words 
 unto your ears. These are but the air struck by the organs 
 of the voice. God transforms, so to speak, this air into words, 
 into various sounds. He makes you understand these various 
 sounds through the modifications by which you are affected. 
 But where do you get the sense of the words from? Who is 
 it that discloses to you and to myself the same truth as Theodore 
 is contemplating ? Ifthe air which He forces back when speaking 
 does not contain the sounds you hear, assuredly it will not 
 contain the truths which you understand. 
 
 ARISTES. I follow you, Theotimus. We are united in mind 
 because all of us are united to the universal Reason which 
 illumines all intelligences. I am wiser than you think. Theodore 
 has already led me to the point to which you wish to conduct 
 me. He has convinced me that there is nothing visible, nothing 
 which can act upon the mind and reveal itself thereto, but the 
 substance of Reason, which is not only efficacious but also 
 intelligent. Yes, nothing that is created can be the immediate 
 object of our knowledge. We see things in this material world, 
 wherein our bodies dwell, only because our mind through its 
 attention lives in another world, only because it contemplates 
 the beauties of the archetypal and intelligible world which 
 Reason contains. As our bodies live upon the earth and find 
 sustenance in the fruits which it produces, so our minds feed on 
 
198 SEVENTH DIALOGUE 
 
 the same truths as the intelligible and immutable substance of 
 the divine Word contains. The words which Theodore utters 
 into my ears urge me, in consequence of the law of the con- 
 junction of soul and body, to be attentive to the truths which 
 he is discovering in the supreme Reason. This turns my mind 
 in the same direction as his. I see what he sees because I look 
 where he looks, and by means of the words whereby I reply to 
 his words, though both alike are, in themselves, devoid of sense, 
 I discuss with him and enjoy with him a good which is common 
 to all, for we are all essentially united to Reason, so united that 
 without it we could enter into no social bond with anyone. 
 
 THEOTIMUS. Your reply, Aristes, surprises me extremely. 
 How, knowing all that you are now telling me, could you reply 
 to Theodore that we are united to our body more intimately 
 than to anything else ? 
 
 ARISTES. I did so because one is inclined to say only what 
 is present to the memory, and because abstract truths do not 
 present themselves to the mind so naturally as those that one 
 has heard all one’s life. When I have meditated as much 
 as Theotimus I shall speak no more in mechanical fashion, but 
 regulate my words in accordance with the deliverances of 
 inner truth. I understand then now, and I shall not forget 
 it all my life, that we are united immediately and directly 
 to God. It is in the light of His wisdom that He makes 
 us see the magnificence of His works, the model upon which 
 He forms them, the immutable art which regulates their 
 mechanism and movements, and it is through the efficacy of 
 His will that He unites us to our body, and through our body 
 to all those in our environment. 
 
 XVI. THEODORE. You might add that it is through the 
 love which He bears to Himself that He communicates to us 
 that invincible enthusiasm which we have for the Good. But 
 of this we shall speak on another occasion. It is sufficient for 
 the present that you are quite convinced that the mind can 
 be united immediately and directly to God alone, that we can 
 have no intercourse with created beings except by the power of 
 the Creator, which is communicated to us only in consequence of 
 His laws, and that we can enter into no social union amongst our- 
 selves and with Him except through the Reason with which 
 He is consubstantial. This once granted, you will see that 
 
ie al ne om — = o>, = ow 
 = = : ae 
 
 ON METAPHYSICS 199 
 
 it is of the highest importance for us to try to acquire 
 some knowledge of the attributes of this supreme Being, since 
 we are so much dependent upon Him; for, after all, He acts 
 upon us necessarily according to His nature. His mode of 
 activity must bear the character of His attributes. Not only 
 must our duties tend towards His perfections, but our whole 
 course of action ought to be so regulated in accordance with His 
 that we may take the proper measures for the realisation of our 
 purposes, and that we may find a combination of causes which 
 is favourable to these designs. In this connection, faith and 
 experience teach us many truths by means of the short-cut of 
 authority and by the proofs of very pleasant and agreeable 
 feelings. But all this intelligence does not give us forthwith ; it 
 ought to be the fruit and the recompense of our work and applica- 
 tion. For the rest, being made to know and love God, it is clear 
 that there is no occupation which is preferable to the meditation 
 upon the divine perfections which should animate us with charity 
 and regulate all the duties of a rational creature. 
 
 ARISTES. I understand quite well, Theodore, that the worship 
 which God demands from mindsis a spiritual worship. It consists 
 in being full of the knowledge of Him, full of love of Him, in 
 forming judgments of Him which are worthy of His attributes, 
 and in regulating in accordance with His will all the movements 
 of our heart. For God is spirit, and He wishes to be worshipped 
 in spirit and in truth. But I must confess that I am extremely 
 afraid lest I should form judgments on the divine perfections 
 which would dishonour them. Is it not better to honour them 
 by silence and admiration, and to devote ourselves solely to 
 investigation of the less sublime truths and those which are 
 more in proportion to the capacity of our minds ? 
 
 THEODORE. Howdo you mean, Aristes? You are not think- 
 ing of what you are saying. We are made to know and love 
 God. Do you mean, then, to say that you do not want us to 
 think of Him, speak of Him, I might even add worship Him ? 
 We ought, you say, to worship Him by silence and admiration. 
 Yes, by a respectful silence which the contemplation of His 
 greatness imposes upon us, by a religious silence to which the 
 glory of His majesty reduces us, by a silence forced upon us, 
 so to speak, due to our impotence, and not having as its source 
 a criminal negligence or a misguided curiosity to know, instead 
 of Him, objects less worthy of our application. What do you 
 
200 SEVENTH DIALOGUE 
 
 admire in the Divine if you know nothing of Him? How could 
 you love Him if you did not contemplate Him? How can 
 we instruct one another in charity if we banish from our dis- 
 cussion Him whom you have just recognised as the soul of all 
 the intercourse which we have with one another, as the bond 
 of our little society ? Assuredly, Aristes, the more you know 
 the supreme Being, the more you will admire His infinite 
 perfections. Do not fear lest you should meditate too much 
 upon Him and speak of Him in an unworthy way, providing 
 you are led by faith. Do not fear lest you should entertain 
 false opinions of Him so long as they are in conformity with 
 the notion of the infinitely perfect Being. You will not dis- 
 honour the divine perfections by judgments unworthy of them, 
 provided you never judge of Him by yourself, provided you do 
 not ascribe to the Creator the imperfections and limitations 
 of created beings. Think of this, therefore. I, too, shall think 
 of it, and 1 hope Theotimus will do so likewise. That is necessary 
 for the development of the principle which I think I ought to 
 put before you. We shall meet to-morrow, then, at the usual 
 hour, for it is time for me to leave. 
 
 ARISTES. Adieu, Theodore. I beg of you, Theotimus, that 
 the three of us should meet at the hour arranged. 
 
 THEOTIMUS. I am going with Theodore, but I shall come 
 back with him, as you desire it. Ah, Theodore, how changed 
 Aristes is! He is attentive, he scoffs no more, he is no longer a 
 stickler for forms—in a word, he listens to reason and submits 
 to it in good faith. 
 
 THEODORE. That is true, but his prejudices still come in 
 the way and somewhat confuse his ideas. Reason and prejudice 
 both have their turn in what he says. Now truth makes him 
 speak, now memory plays tricks upon him. But his imagination 
 dares no longer to revolt. This indicates that, he is sound at 
 heart and encourages me a good deal. 
 
 THEOTIMUS. What do you expect, Theodore? Prejudices 
 are not so easily got rid of as an old coat which is no longer 
 thought of. It seems to me that we have been like Aristes, for 
 we were not born but became philosophers. It will be necessary 
 to repeat to him the great principles ceaselessly, in order that 
 he should think of them so often that his mind will obtain 
 mastery over them, and that in the moment of need they may 
 occur to him quite naturally. 
 
ON METAPHYSICS 201 
 
 THEODORE. That is what I have been trying to do hitherto. 
 But this makes it difficult for him, for he loves detail and variety 
 of thoughts. I beg of you always to dwell upon the necessity of 
 a thorough understanding of principles, in order to stop the 
 vivacity of his mind, and please do not forget to meditate upon 
 the subject of our discussion. 
 
EIGHTH DIALOGUE 
 
 God and His attributes. 
 
 THEODORE. Well, Aristes, what would you like todo? We 
 must know what mood you are in, so that we can adapt what 
 we have to say to it. 
 
 ARISTES. I have thought over in my mind all that you have 
 told me up till now, and I confess I could not resist the strength 
 of the proofs upon which your principles are based. But on 
 reflecting upon the subject of the divine Attributes which you 
 have enumerated for us, I found so many difficulties that I was 
 disheartened. This matter was too sublime, or too abstract 
 for me. I could not reach it, and I find no point which would 
 give me any hold upon it. 
 
 THEODORE. What, you are not going to tell us anything? 
 
 ARISTES. No, because I have nothing worth saying, nothing 
 that satisfies me. I shall listen to you two, if you do 
 not mind. 
 
 THEODORE. But we do. However, since you do not wish 
 to give us the result of your meditation, allow me to put some 
 questions to you in order to ascertain what you feel in regard 
 to what has occurred to me. 
 
 ARISTES. Willingly. But, Theotimus ? 
 
 THEODORE. Theotimus shall be the judge in reference to 
 any small differences that may arise out of the divergence 
 of our views. 
 
 THEOTIMUS. The judge! How do you mean? It is Reason 
 that must preside over us and decide authoritatively. 
 
 THEODORE. I mean, Theotimus, that you shall be a sub- 
 ordinate judge, and under the authority of Reason, and that 
 you shall pronounce judgment only according to the laws which 
 it prescribes to us as well as to you. Let us lose no time, 
 please. Only do you confront what we say to each other 
 
 with the deliverances of inner truth in order to wam and 
 202 
 
ON METAPHYSICS 208 
 
 correct him who may go astray. Come, Aristes, follow me, and 
 only stop me when I pass by difficult points too lightly. 
 
 I. By the Divine we understand the Infinite, the Being 
 without restriction, Being infinitely perfect. But nothing finite 
 can represent the Infinite. Hence it is enough to think of God 
 to know that He exists. Do not be surprised, Theotimus, if 
 Artistes lets this pass, for he had already agreed to this before 
 you were here.* 
 
 ARISTES. Yes, Theotimus, I am convinced that nothing finite 
 can have enough reality to represent the Infinite. But I am 
 certain that I see the Infinite. Hence the Infinite exists, since 
 I see it, and I could not see it except in itself. As my mind is 
 finite, the knowledge which I have of the Infinite is finite. I 
 do not understand it. I do not fathom it. I am never quite 
 certain that I shall ever be able to fathom it. Not only can 
 I find no end therein, but I see that there is none. In a word, 
 the perception which I have of the Infinite is imited. Yet the 
 objective reality in which my mind, so to speak, loses itself has 
 no limits. Of all this I cannot now have any doubts. 
 
 THEOTIMUS. Nor I either. 
 
 THEODORE. This being granted, it is clear that the word 
 “God ” being only an abbreviated expression for Being infinitely 
 perfect, it is a contradiction to suppose that we can be mistaken 
 when we attribute to God nothing but what we see is fitting 
 to belong to the infinitely perfect Being. For, if we are never 
 mistaken when we predicate of the works of God, nothing but 
 what we see clearly and distinctly belongs to the infinitely 
 perfect Being, nothing but what we discover not in an idea 
 distinct from God, but in His own substance, we may attribute 
 to God, or to the infinitely perfect Being, all the perfections, 
 however incomprehensible they may appear to us, provided we 
 are certain that they are realities or veritable perfections,— 
 realities and perfections, I say, which contain nothing of non- 
 being, which are not limited by imperfections and limitations 
 similar to those of created things. Observe now. 
 
 II. God is the infinitely perfect Being. Hence God is 
 independent. Think of this, Aristes, and stop me only when I 
 speak of anything which you do not see clearly to be a perfection, 
 
 t Dialogue II. 
 
204 EIGHTH DIALOGUE 
 
 or to belong to the infinitely perfect Being. God is independent. 
 Hence He is unchangeable. 
 
 ARISTES. God is independent, hence He is unchangeable! 
 Why unchangeable ? 
 
 THEODORE. Because there can be no effect or change without 
 a cause. But God is independent of the activity of causes. _ 
 Hence, if any change took place in God, He Himself would be 
 the cause of it. But, although God is the cause and the principle 
 of His volitions and decrees, He has never produced any change 
 within Himself ; for His decrees, though perfectly free, are them- 
 selves Sage and immutable, as I have already pointed out 
 to you." God has made these decrees, or rather He forms them 
 without ceasing in ‘His eternal wisdom, which is the inviolable 
 law of His will. And, though the effects of these_decrees_are_ 
 infinite and produce thousands upon thousands of changes in_ 
 the universe, the decrees are always the same. That is so 
 because the efficacy of these decrees is determined to action only 
 by the circumstances of those causes which are called “‘ natural,” 
 and which I think should be called ‘‘ occasional,’ for fear of 
 countenancing the dangerous prejudice of a nature and an efficacy 
 distinguished from the will of God and from His omnipotence. 
 
 ARISTES. I do not quite understand all this. God is free 
 and indifferent, for example, to the movement of any body or to 
 any other effect you please. If He is thus indifferent, He can 
 produce this effect or not produce it. This effect is a result of 
 His decrees, I grant. But it is certain that God is able not to 
 produce it. Hence, He is able not to will to produce it. God, 
 therefore, is not immutable, since He can change His will, and 
 not will to-morrow what He wills to-day. af 
 
 THEODORE. You do not remember, Aristes, what I told 
 you in our last discussion.* God is free, and even indifferent 
 to thousands of effects. He can change His will in the sense 
 that He is indifferent whether to will or not to will a certain 
 effect. But observe. At this moment when you are seated, can 
 you be standing up? You can, of course, do so absolutely ; 
 but, on the supposition from which we start, you cannot. For 
 you cannot be standing up and seated at the same time. 
 Understand, then, that in God there is no succession of thoughts 
 and volitions, that it is by an eternal and immutable act that — 
 He knows all, and that He wills all that He wills. God wills 
 
 1 Dialogue VIL. ® Dialogue IX, |... 
 
ON METAPHYSICS 205 
 
 with perfect liberty and entire indifference to.create the world..He 
 wills to make certain decrees and to establish simple and general 
 _laws in order to govern the world 1 in a manner which shall bear 
 “the character of His attributes. But these decrees, being laid 
 down, cannot be changed, not because they are absolutely neces- 
 sary, but by the force of the pre- supposition. Observe this well, 
 that they are laid down once for all, and God, in forming them, 
 knew so well what He was doing that they cannot be cancelled. 
 For, although He has made some of them for a certain time, 
 that is not because He changes His mind when this time arrives, 
 but because one and the same act of His will has reference to the 
 different times which are contained in His eternity. God, then, 
 does not change, and cannot change, His designs, His thoughts, 
 His volitions. He is immutable, and this is one of the perfec- 
 tions of His nature ; nevertheless, He is perfectly free in all that 
 He does outwardly. He cannot change because what He wills 
 He wills without succession by a simple and invariable act; 
 but He is able not to will it, because He wills freely what He 
 wills actually. 
 
 Artistes. I shall think over what you are telling me, 
 Theodore. Let us pass on-to a further point. I believe that 
 God isimmutable. It seems to me evident that it is a perfection 
 not to be subject to change. That is sufficient for me. Even 
 though I cannot reconcile the immutability of God with His 
 liberty, I believe that He possesses both these attributes, since 
 He is infinitely perfect. 
 
 
 
 III. THEotrmus. Allow me, Theodore, to put a_ small 
 difficulty before you. You said just now that the immutable 
 decrees of God are determined to action only by the circumstances 
 of the causes which are called ‘“‘ natural,’’ and which we call 
 “‘occasional.”” These are your terms. But I ask you what 
 becomes of miracles? The impact of bodies, for example, is 
 the occasional cause of the communication of movement from 
 one body to another. Cannot God, then, suspend in a certain 
 case the effect of the general law of the communication of move- 
 ments, and has He not often suspended it ? 
 
 THEODORE. Once for all, Theotimus, and you too, Aristes— 
 for I see that it is because of you that Theotimus wishes me to 
 explain myself further; he sees that you do not quite grasp 
 my meaning—once for all, Aristes, when I say that God always 
 
206 EIGHTH DIALOGUE 
 
 follows the general laws which He has prescribed for Himself, 
 I refer only to His general and ordinary Providence. I do 
 not debar miracles or effects which do not follow from His 
 general laws. Moreover, Theotimus, and it is to you that I am 
 speaking now, when God performs a miracle and when He does 
 not act in accordance with the general laws which are known 
 to us, I maintain either that God is then acting in accordance 
 with other general. laws.which are unknown to us, or that what 
 He does then is determined by certain circumstances which. He 
 has had in view from all eternity when He produced the simple, 
 eternal and invariable act, which includes both the general laws 
 of His ordinary providence and the exceptions to these laws. i 
 But these circumstances should not be called occasional causes in 
 the same sense in which the impact of bodies, for example, is the 
 occasional cause of the communication of movements, because God 
 has made no general laws for regulating the activity of His volitions 
 in a uniform way on the occasion of these circumstances. For 
 in the case of exceptions to general laws God acts now in 
 one way, now in another, though always in accordance with 
 the dictates of that one of His attributes which is, so to speak, 
 the most precious to Him at the moment. I mean that if what 
 He then owes to justice is of greater importance than what He 
 owes to His wisdom, or to all the other attributes, He will follow 
 in this exception the dictates of His justice. For God always acts 
 only in accordance with what He is, only in order to do honour 
 to His divine attributes, only in order to satisfy what He 
 owes to Himself, for He is His own principle and the end of all 
 His own volitions, whether He is punishing us, showing us pity, 
 or rewarding us for His own gifts, for the merits which we have 
 won by His grace. But I am afraid, Theotimus, that Aristes 
 will not be pleased with our digression. Let us come back 
 to our point. We shall, moreover, be obliged in the discussions 
 that follow to give an account of the principles upon which 
 the explanation of the difficulties which you would raise 
 depends. 
 
 God, or the infinitely perfect Being, is, then, independent 
 
 and immutable. He is also omnipotent, eternal, necessary, ~ 
 
 immense... 
 
 ARISTES. Gently. He is omnipotent, eternal, necessary, 
 yes, these attributes befit a Being infinitely perfect. But why 
 immense? What do you mean ? : 
 
ON METAPHYSICS 207 
 
 IV. THEODORE. I mean that the divine substance is every- 
 where, not only in the universe, but infinitely beyond. For 
 God is not contained in His work—rather is His work in Him 
 and subsists in His substance, which conserves it by its omnipo- 
 tent power. It is in Him that we have being. It is in Him 
 that we have movement and life, as the Apostle says, im tpso 
 enim vivimus, movemur et sumus.t 
 
 ARISTES. But God is not corporeal. Hence, He cannot be 
 extended everywhere. 
 
 THEODORE. It is because He is not corporeal that He can 
 be everywhere. If He were corporeal, He could not penetrate 
 bodies in the way in which He does penetrate them. For there 
 is a contradiction in saying that two feet of extension are only 
 one. As His divine substance is not corporeal, it is not locally 
 extended as bodies are, big in an elephant, small in a gnat. It 
 is all that it is, so to speak, wherever it is, and it is everywhere, 
 or rather everything is init ; because the substance of the Creator is 
 the intimate bond of union of all created things.’ Created extension 
 is to the divine immensity as time is to eternity. _All bodies 
 are extended in the immensity of God, just as all times succeed 
 one another in His eternity. God is always all that He is with- 
 out any temporal er iig He fills all His substance without 
 being locally extended.” There is in His existence no past nor 
 future; all is present, immutable, eternal. There is in His 
 substance neither great nor small, all is simple, equal, infinite. 
 God has created the world, but the will to create it has 
 not passed away. God will change it, but the will to change it 
 is not future. The will of God, what He has done and what 
 He will do, is an eternal and immutable act, the effects of which 
 change without there being any change in God. In a word, 
 God has not been, will not be, but He zs. One can say that 
 God was in the time that is past, but He was then all that He 
 will be in the future time. His duration, if one may use this 
 term, is, as His existence, in its entirety eternal, and in its 
 entirety in all the moments which succeed one another in His 
 eternity. In like manner God is not partly in heaven, partly 
 on earth, He is all that He is in His immensity, and all that He is 
 in the bodies which are locally extended in Hisimmensity, all that 
 He is in all the parts of matter, though these are divisible ad 
 injfintium ; or, to speak more accurately, God is not so much in 
 
 t Acts xvii. 20. 
 
208 EIGHTH DIALOGUE 
 
 the world as the world is in Him, or in His immensity, just as 
 eternity is not so much in time as time is in eternity. 
 
 ARISTES. It seems to me, Theodore, that you are explaining 
 one obscure thing by another which is not too clear. I do not 
 feel so convinced as during the last few days. | 
 
 V. THEODORE. I do not undertake, Aristes, to make you 
 understand clearly the immensity of God and the way in 
 which He is everywhere. This seems to me incomprehensible, 
 just as it does to you. But I want to give you some idea 
 of theimmensity of God by comparing it with His eternity. As 
 you have granted that God is eternal, I thought I might be 
 able to convince you that He is immense, by comparing the 
 eternity which you accept with the immensity which you refuse 
 to recognise. 
 
 THEOTIMUS. What do you want Theodore to do? He is 
 comparing divine things with divine things, that is the way 
 to explain them, so far as explanation is possible at all. But 
 you are comparing them with finite things. That is precisely 
 the way to deceive yourself. The human mind does not fill 
 any space; therefore, the divine substance is not immense. 
 This is a false conclusion. Created extension is larger in a big 
 space than in a small one. Hence, if God were everywhere, He 
 would be larger in a giant than in a pygmy. This is another 
 conclusion derived from a comparison of the infinite with the 
 finite. If you wish to form any judgments with regard to the 
 divine attributes, consult the infinite, the notion of the infinitely 
 perfect Being, and do not stop at ideas of particular and finite 
 beings. This is how Theodore is handling the subject. He does 
 not judge of the divine immensity on the basis of ideas of 
 created things, either corporeal or spiritual. He knows well that 
 the divine substance is not subject to the imperfections and 
 limitations inseparable from created beings. That is why he con- 
 cludes that God is everywhere, and that He has nowhere the 
 mode of being that belongs to bodies. 
 
 ARISTES. What! God is here entirely so to speak, and 
 also here and there and everywhere else, and in all the 
 spaces which can be conceived beyond the world! That is 
 unintelligible. 
 
 THEODORE. Yes, God is in everything, or rather everything 
 is in God, and the world, however large you imagine it to be, can 
 
ON METAPHYSICS 209 
 
 neither equal nor be compared to Him. We cannot understand 
 how this can be, I agree, but that is because the infinite is 
 beyond us. Do you mean, then, to assert, Aristes, that God is 
 not in your garden, in the sky, and wholly or entirely wherever 
 He is? Do you dare to deny that God is everywhere ? 
 
 ARISTES, He is present through His operation. But... 
 
 THEODORE. How through His operation? What sort of 
 reality can attach to the operation of God if it be distinguished 
 and separated from His substance? By the operation of God 
 you do not mean the effect which He produces; for the effect is 
 not the action but the termination of the action. By the opera- 
 tion of God you mean apparently the act whereby He operates. 
 But if the act whereby God produces or conserves this chair 
 is here, assuredly God Himself is here; and if He is here, He 
 must be here wholly and entirely, and similarly in all other 
 places where He operates. 
 
 ARISTES. I believe, Theodore, that God is present in the 
 world in the way in which you believe your soul is present in 
 your body. For I know well that you do not think that the 
 soul is diffused through all the parts of the body. It is in the 
 head, because there it reasons. It is also in our arms and feet, 
 because it sets them in motion. In the same way, God is in 
 the world, because He conserves and governs it. 
 
 VI. THEODORE. What a mass of prejudices and obscurities 
 there is in your comparison! The soul is not in the body, 
 nor is the body in the soul, though their modifications are 
 reciprocal in consequence of the general laws of their union. 
 But both are in God, who is the true cause of the mutual 
 adaptation of their modifications. Minds are in the divine 
 Reason and bodies in His immensity, but neither can be in 
 the other, for mind and body have no essential relation to one 
 another. It is with God alone that they have necessary relation. 
 The mind can think without the body, but it can know nothing 
 save in the divine Reason. Body can be extended with- 
 out mind, but it cannot exist except in the immensity 
 of God. The qualities of body have nothing in common 
 with those of mind, for body cannot think, nor mind be 
 extended. But the one, no less than the other, participates in 
 the divine Being. God, who gives them their reality, possesses 
 that reality, for He possesses all the perfections of all created 
 
 14 
 
210 EIGHTH DIALOGUE 
 
 things without their limitations. He knows, as minds do. He 
 is extended, as bodies are, but all this in a way entirely 
 different from theirs. Thus God is everywhere in the world 
 and beyond. But the soul is not present anywhere in bodies. 
 
 It does not know in the brain as you imagine. It knows | 
 
 only in the intelligible substance of the divine Word, though 
 it knows in God only in virtue of what takes place in a 
 certain portion of matter called the brain. Neither does it set 
 the limbs of the body in motion by the application of a force 
 which belongs to its nature. It moves them only because He 
 who is everywhere in His immensity executes by His power 
 the impotent desires of His creatures. Do not say then, Aristes, 
 that God is in the world which He produces as the soul is in the 
 body which it animates, for there is no truth in your comparison ; 
 
 not only because the soul cannot be in the body, nor the body 
 in the soul, but still more because as minds cannot operate in. 
 
 the bodies which they animate, they cannot be diffused in 
 them through their operation in the way in which you main- 
 tain the divine operation is present in the world, through which 
 operation alone, according to you, God is present everywhere. 
 
 ARISTES. What you are saying now seems to me very 
 difficult. I shall think about it, but meanwhile please tell me: 
 before the world existed and God operated therein, where was 
 He? 
 
 VII. THEODORE. I put the question to you, Aristes, who 
 maintain that God is present in the world only by His operation. 
 You do not answer! Well, I say that before the creation of the 
 world God was where He is now, and where He will be were 
 the world to return to naught. He was in Himself. When 
 I tell you that God is in the world and infinitely beyond it, you 
 do not grasp my meaning if you believe that the world and the 
 imaginary space beyond are, so to speak, the space which the 
 infinite substance of the Divinity occupies. God is in the world 
 
 only because the world is in.God,..for..God-is.only in Himself,” 
 
 only in Hisimmensity. If He created new spaces, He would not 
 thereby gain a new presence in consequence of these spaces. 
 He would not increase Hisimmensity. He would not makea 
 new place for Himself. He is eternally and necessarily where 
 these spaces are created; but He is not there locally as the 
 spaces are. Extension, Aristes, is a reality, and in the Infinite 
 
 a 
 
ON METAPHYSICS 211 
 
 all realities are present. God, then, is extended, no less than bodies 
 are ; since God possesses all absolute realities or all perfections. 
 But God is not extended in the way in which bodies are; for, 
 as I have just told you, He has not the limitations and imper- 
 fections of created things. God knows, as created minds do, but 
 He does not think in the manner in which they do. He is 
 Himself the immediate object of His knowledge. There is in 
 Him no succession or variety of thoughts. One of His thoughts 
 does not exclude, as in our case, the being of others. They are 
 not mutually exclusive. In like manner God is extended, 
 no less than bodies, but there are no parts in His substance. 
 One part does not imply, as in the case of bodies, the non-being 
 of another part, and the place of His substance is but His sub- 
 stance itself. He is always one and always infinite, perfectly 
 simple and composed, so to speak, of all realities and of all 
 perfections. The true God is Being, and not a particular 
 being, as He Himself said to Moses, His servant, through the 
 mouth of the commissioned angel. He is being without 
 restriction, and not a finite being, or a being made up, so to 
 speak, of being and non-being. Do not, then, attribute to God 
 whom we worship anything but what you conceive in the 
 infinitely perfect Being. Do not take away from Him anything 
 but what is finite, or what partakes of non-being. And, though 
 you do not understand clearly all that I am telling you, even 
 as I do not understand it myself, you will understand at least 
 _ that God is such as I am representing Him to be; for you 
 ought to know that in order to judge worthily of God we must 
 attribute to Him only attributes which are incomprehensible. 
 This is evident, since God is infinite in every sense, since 
 nothing finite is fitting for Him, and since all that is infinite in 
 every sense is in every way incomprehensible to the human 
 mind. 
 
 ArIsTES. Ah! Theodore, I am beginning to realise that I was 
 entertaining quite unworthy views of God, because I judged of Him 
 confusedly by the standard of myself, or by ideas which can only 
 represent finite things. It seems to me evident that any judg- 
 ment which is not based on the notion of the infinitely perfect 
 Being, of the incomprehensible Being, is not worthy of the 
 Divine. Assuredly, if the Pagans had not abandoned that notion, 
 they would not have made false gods of their chimeras ; and if 
 Christians always followed this notion of Being, or of the 
 
212 KIGHTH DIALOGUE 
 
 Infinite, which is naturally engraved upon our mind, they would 
 not speak of God in the way some of them do. 
 
 VIII. THEoTIMUS. You seem to be quite content, Aristes, 
 with what Theodore has just told you, namely, that the attributes 
 of God are incomprehensible in every way. Still, Iam afraid 
 there is some ambiguity in this. For it seems to me that we 
 can form a clear conception of an immense extension, and one 
 which has no limits. The mind does not understand or measure 
 this extension: I agree. Yet it knows clearly its nature and its 
 properties. But now, what is the immensity of God if not an 
 infinite intelligible extension, through which not only is God 
 present everywhere, but in which we see spaces which have no 
 limits? It is, then, not true that the immensity of God is in 
 every sense incomprehensible by the human mind, since we 
 know intelligible extension quite clearly, so clearly that it is 
 in it and through it that geometricians discover all their 
 demonstrations. 
 
 ARISTES. It seems to me, Theotimus, that you do not quite 
 grasp Theodore’s meaning. But I have not meditated sufficiently 
 upon the matter. I cannot explain to you very well what I 
 only half see myself. I will ask you, Theodore, to answer for me. 
 
 THEODORE. What! Theotimus, are you confusing the divine 
 immensity with intelligible extension? Do you not see that 
 there is an infinite difference between these two things? The 
 immensity of God is His substance itself spread out everywhere, 
 and all of it is present everywhere, filling all places without local 
 extension, and this I submit is quite incomprehensible. Intelli- 
 gible extension, on the other hand, is only the substance of God 
 in so far as it is representative of bodies, in so far as it is capable 
 of being participated in by them, with the limitations and 
 imperfections which are proper to them, and which this intelligible 
 extension represents, being their idea or archetype. No finite 
 mind can understand the immensity of God, or any of the other 
 attributes or ways of being of the divine, if I may express 
 myself so. These ways of being are always infinite, always divine, 
 and always, therefore, incomprehensible. Nothing, on the other 
 hand, is clearer than intelligible extension. Nothing is more 
 intelligible than the ideas of bodies, since it is through them that 
 we know quite distinctly not the nature of God, but the nature of 
 matter. Assuredly, Theotimus, if you judge of the immensity of God 
 

 
 ON METAPHYSICS 213 
 
 by means of the idea of extension, you are giving God a corporeal 
 extension. You can make this extension as infinite, as immense 
 as you please, but you will not remove from it the imperfections 
 which this idea represents. The substance of God will no 
 longer be all of it wherever it is. In judging of God by means 
 of the idea of created things, you will be corrupting the notion 
 of the infinitely perfect Being, of the Being who is incomprehen- 
 sible in every way. Therefore, be very careful, both of you, 
 about the judgments which you form with regard to what I 
 am telling you of the Divinity ; for I warn you once for all that 
 when I speak of God and His attributes, if you understand 
 what I am saying, and if you have an idea of it which 
 is clear and in proportion to the finite capacity of your 
 mind, then either I am mistaken, or you do not grasp 
 what I mean. For all the absolute attributes of the Divine 
 are incomprehensible to the human mind, though it can 
 understand clearly whatever there is in God which is related 
 to created things, I mean the intelligible ideas of all possible 
 productions. 
 
 THEOTIMUS. I see quite well, Theodore, that I was mistaken 
 in confusing the infinite intelligible extension with the immen- 
 sity of God. This extension is not the divine substance 
 spread out everywhere, but is this substance, in so far as it is 
 representative of bodies and capable of being participated in 
 by them, in the way in which a corporeal thing can _partici- 
 pate imperfectly in Being. I know quite well, nevertheless, 
 that an infinite corporeal extension, such as some conceive the 
 universe to be, which according to them is made up of an infinite 
 number of vortices, would still have nothing divine in it. For 
 God is not the Infinite in extension, but ¢he Infinite simply. He 
 is Being without restriction. But it is a property of the Infinite, 
 which is incomprehensible by the human mind, as I have heard 
 you say often, to be at the same time one and all things, com- 
 pounded, so to speak, of an infinity of perfections, and so simple 
 that each perfection which He possesses includes within itself all 
 the others without any real distinction. This property certainly 
 is less suited for a material universe and for the parts of which 
 it is composed than for the substance of the soul, which, without 
 any separation of parts, can receive at the same time modifica- 
 tions which are different ; a slight indication, nevertheless, of 
 the divine simplicity and universality. 
 
214 EIGHTH DIALOGUE 
 
 THEODORE. Youare right, Theotimus. There is no substance 
 more imperfect, more distant from the Divine than matter, 
 be it even infinite. It corresponds perfectly to intelligible exten- 
 sion, which is its archetype, but it does not correspond to the 
 divine immensity except in a very imperfect way; and it does 
 not correspond at all to the other attributes of the infinitely 
 perfect Being. 
 
 IX. Artistes. What you are saying now makes me under- 
 stand what the unbeliever of these days, who makes his God out 
 of the universe, has not grasped. He was a veritable atheist. But 
 I cannot help thinking of a number of good people who, for 
 lack of a little philosophy, entertain unworthy opinions of 
 the Divinity. Their God is not the universe, he is the creator 
 of the universe. This is about all they know of him. It would 
 be a great deal, if they adhered to that without corrupting the 
 notion of the infinite. But, in truth, I pity them when I think 
 of the idea‘which they form of the incomprehensible Being. 
 Theotimus was quite right when he said that men naturally 
 humanise all things. Moreover, if all that they did was merely 
 to incarnate, so to speak, the Divinity by endowing it with quali- 
 ties which belonged to them—that would be pardonable. But 
 there are some who deprive it of all the incomprehensible 
 attributes and of all the characteristics which are essential to 
 the infinitely perfect Being, with the exception of power ; 
 furthermore, they distribute the latter between it and what 
 they call nature in such a way that, though they leave to God 
 the best share, they rob Him of all means of exercising it. 
 
 TuHeEotTimus. They do so, Aristes, for fear of tiring, or at any 
 rate debasing, the Divine Majesty by petty tasks, by actions 
 unworthy of His application and greatness. For we naturally 
 believe that God would be content with the opinions we have 
 of Him when we make Him such as we should like ourselves to 
 be. Man is always moved by the inner feeling which he has 
 of all that goes on in his own mind and heart. He cannot help 
 but feel confusedly what he is and what he would desire to be. 
 So he projects himself naturally into the objects of his know- 
 ledge and measures by the standard of humanity not only 
 everything in his environment, but even the infinite substance 
 of the Divine. It is true that the notion of the infinitely perfect 
 Being is deeply impressed upon our mind. We never are without 
 
ON METAPHYSICS 215 
 
 thinking of Being. But so far from, taking the vast and 
 immense notion of Being without restriction for a standard 
 whereby to estimate the Divinity which presents itself to us 
 without ceasing, we take this immense notion as a pure 
 fiction of the mind. This is the case, Aristes, because Being in 
 general never strikes our senses, and because we judge of 
 the reality and solidity of objects by the force with which they 
 disturb us. 
 
 ARISTES. I understand all that quite well, Theotimus. It is 
 precisely what Theodore told me seven or eight days ago. My 
 mind can get no grip of the abstract ideas which you put before 
 me. Iam not sensuously affected by them. But I do not conclude 
 from this that they are only phantoms. I believe that they 
 are sublime truths, to which one can attain only by silencing 
 one’s imagination and senses, and by lifting oneself above oneself. 
 And I am quite resolved in the future not to judge of God by 
 myself, or by ideas which represent created things, but solely 
 by the notion of the infinitely perfect Being. Please continue, 
 Theodore, to question and instruct me. 
 
 X. THEODORE. Very well, let us continue. You believe 
 that God is good, wise, just, merciful, patient, severe. 
 
 ARISTES. Gently. These terms are quite general ; I mistrust 
 them. I believe that God is wise, good, just, compassionate, and 
 that He has all the other qualities which Scripture assigns to Him. 
 But I do not know whether all who pronounce these words mean 
 the same thing by them. The infinitely perfect Being is good, 
 just, full of compassion. This seems to me obscure. Define 
 these terms for me. 
 
 THEODORE. Oh, Aristes, you suspect a surprise. You do 
 well. When one is philosophising over subtle and sublime 
 matters, one must beware of ambiguities, and the commonest 
 terms are not the most exempt from them. It is necessary 
 then to define these words. But that is not so easy. Answer 
 ‘me first with regard to a matter which may help to render them 
 clearer. Do you think that God knows and wills ? 
 
 ARISTES. So far as that goes, yes. I do not doubt but that 
 God knows and wills. 
 
 THEODORE. How is it that you have no doubt about it? 
 Is it because you know and will yourself ? 
 ArRIsTES. No, Theodore. Itis because I recognise that know- 
 
216 KIGHTH DIALOGUE 
 
 ing and willing are perfections. For, although I feel that I suffer, 
 although I doubt, I am certain that God does not feel or doubt. 
 And when I say that God knows and wills, I do not maintain 
 that He does so in the manner of men. I maintain only that 
 God wills and knows, and I leave it to you and Theotimus to 
 explain the manner in which He wills and knows. 
 
 THEODORE. What do you mean by “‘themanner’’? All the 
 divine ways are incomprehensible. We do not know how we 
 know ourselves, nor how we will; for having no clear idea of 
 our soul, we cannot apprehend anything clearly in our own 
 modifications. Still less, therefore, shall we be able to explain 
 to you exactly the manner in which God knows or wills. Never- 
 theless, consult the notion of the infinitely perfect Being. See 
 whether I am following it. For I tell you boldly that God is 
 to Himself His own light, and that He discerns within His own 
 substance the essences of all beings and all their possible modifica- 
 tions, and in His decrees He discerns their existence and all 
 their actual modifications. 
 
 ARISTES. It seems to me that you are not venturing very 
 far. 
 
 XI. THEODORE. I do not claim to do so either. But since 
 you accept the principle, let us draw the conclusions that follow 
 from it. God knows in Himself all that He knows. Hence all 
 truths are in God, for, He being infinitely perfect, none can escape 
 His knowledge. Hence His substance contains all intelligible 
 relations, for truths are nothing but relations which are real, 
 while falsities are relations which are imaginary. Hence God is 
 not only wise, but Wisdom itself; not only does He know, but 
 He is knowledge itself; not only is He illumined, but the light 
 itself which illumines both Himself and all intelligences. For it 
 is in His own light that you see what I see, and that He Himself 
 sees what both of us see. I see that all the diameters of a circle 
 are equal. I am certain that God Himself sees this, and that all 
 minds either see it actually or are capable of seeing it. Yes, Iam 
 certain that God sees precisely the same thing as I see, the same 
 truth, the same relation which I am aware of now as holding 
 absolutely between 2 and 2 and 4. But God cannot see anything 
 except in His substance. Hence this truth which I see I must 
 seein Him. You know all that, Aristes, and have already agreed 
 to it. Yet these principles escape us so easily, and they are 
 
ON METAPHYSICS 217 
 
 moreover of such great importance, that it is no loss of time to 
 recall them to one’s mind and to become familiar with them. 
 
 ARISTES. That then is one of the great differences between 
 the way in which God knows and the way in which we know. God 
 knows all things in Himself, and we know nothing in ourselves. 
 We know nothing except in a substance which is not ours. God 
 is wise through His own wisdom. We can become wise only 
 through the union which we have with the wisdom which is eternal, 
 immutable, necessary, common to all intelligences. For it is 
 quite clear that a mind so limited as ours cannot find in its own 
 substance the ideas or the archetype of all possible beings and 
 of their infinite relations. Moreover, I am so certain that 
 men, angels, and God Himself see the same truths which I see, 
 that I can have no doubt as to whether it is the same light which 
 illumines all minds. 
 
 XII. THEotimus. Assuredly, Aristes, if God knows precisely 
 what we see when we think that twice two are four, it is in God 
 alone that we see this truth, for God sees it only in His own 
 wisdom. Indeed, He only sees that we are thinking of it now in 
 His decrees and in His eternity, for He does not derive His 
 knowledge from what takes place actually in His creatures. 
 But can we not say that minds do not see the same truths, but 
 similar ones ? God sees that twice two make four. You see it, 
 I see it. We have here three similar truths, and not a single 
 and unique truth. 
 
 ARISTES. We have here three similar perceptions of one 
 and the same truth, but how can we have three similar truths ? 
 And who has told you that they are similar? Have you compared 
 your ideas with mine, and with God’s, in order to recognise their 
 resemblance clearly? Who has told you that to-morrow, or 
 that through all the centuries, you will see as you do to-day 
 that twice two make four? Who has told you even that God 
 cannot make minds capable of seeing clearly that twice two 
 do not make four? Assuredly, you see the same truth as I, but 
 you do so by means of a perception which is not mine, though 
 perhaps it resembles mine. You see a truth which is common 
 to all minds, but by means of a perception which belongs to you 
 alone, for our perceptions, our feelings, our modifications are 
 particular. You see a truth which is immutable, necessary, 
 eternal. For you are so certain of the immutability of yonr 
 
218 EIGHTH DIALOGUE 
 
 ideas that you have no fear lest you should find them to-morrow 
 all changed. Since you know that they were before you, you 
 are also assured that they will not disappear. But if your ideas 
 are eternal and immutable, it is evident that they cannot have 
 being except in the eternal and immutable ists of the 
 Divine. That cannot be disputed. It is in God alone that 
 we can see truth. In Him alone is the light which illumines 
 Himself and allintelligences. Heis wise through His own wisdom, 
 but we cannot be wise except through our union with Him. Let 
 us not dispute these principles. They are evident, it seems to me, 
 and the ground of the certitude which we find in the sciences. 
 
 THEOTIMUS. I am very glad, Aristes, to see that you are 
 convinced not only that the power of God is the efficient cause 
 of our knowledge, for I believe that you do not doubt this, but 
 also that His wisdom is the formal cause which illumines us 
 immediately and without the intermediation of any created 
 thing. I see quite well that Theodore has talked to you on 
 this matter. I also owe to him what you have learnt from 
 him, and which he says he learnt from St. Augustine. 
 
 THEODORE. We are all agreed, then, that God is infinitely 
 wise, and this, essentially and in Himself, by the necessity of 
 His being; that men can be wise only through the light of the 
 divine wisdom; that this light is communicated to them in 
 virtue of their attention, which is the occasional cause that 
 determines the action of the general laws of the conjunction 
 of their mind with the universal Reason, as we shall explain in 
 the sequel. Let us prove now that God is just. 
 
 XIII. God contains in the simplicity of His being the ideas 
 of all things and their infinite relations, generally all truths. 
 Now, there may be distinguished in God two kinds of relations 
 or truths, relations of magnitude and relations of perfection, 
 speculative truths and practical truths, relations which call forth 
 only judgments and others which in addition excite movements. 
 Nevertheless, relations of perfection cannot be known clearly unless 
 they are expressed in relations of magnitude. But we need not 
 delay over this matter. Twice two are four is a relation of equality 
 in magnitude, is a speculative truth which excites no movement 
 in thesoul, neither love nor hate, neither respect nor disdain. Man 
 is of greater value than the beast, that is a relation of inequality 
 in perfection which demands not merely that the soul should 
 
ON METAPHYSICS 219 
 
 accept it, but that our love and esteem should be regulated by 
 the knowledge of this relation or truth. Observe then, God 
 contains in Himself all relations of perfection. But He knows 
 and loves all that He possesses in the simplicity of His own being. 
 Hence, He esteems and loves everything in proportion as it 
 is worthy of love and esteem. Invincibly He loves the immu- 
 table order which consists and can consist only in the relations 
 of perfection which subsist between His attributes and between 
 the ideas which He contains in His substance. He is, therefore, 
 just in essence and through Himself. He cannot sin, for loving 
 Himself invincibly He cannot but be just to His divine perfec- 
 tions, to all that He is, to all that He contains. He cannot 
 even will positively and directly to produce any disorder in His 
 work, for He esteems all things according to the degree of perfec- 
 tion of their archetypes. For example, He cannot without 
 reason will that the mind shall be subject to the body; and 
 if-this is the case, it is because man is no longer such as God 
 has made him. He cannot favour injustice; and if that is so, 
 it is because the uniformity of His working must not depend 
 on the irregularity of ours. The time of His vengeance will 
 come. He cannot will anything that corrupts His work; and 
 if there are monsters who disfigure it, it is because He does 
 greater honour to His attributes by the simplicity and generality 
 of His ways than by immunity from the defects which He per- 
 mits in the universe, and which He produces therein in virtue 
 of the general laws which He has established for the sake of 
 better effects than the production of monsters, as we shall explain 
 in the sequel. Thus, God is just in Himself, just in His ways, 
 just essentially, because all His volitions necessarily conform to 
 the immutable order of justice which He owes to Himself and 
 to His divine perfections. 
 
 Man, on the other hand, is not just in himself. For as 
 the immutable order of justice, which comprehends all the 
 relations of perfection of all possible beings and their qualities, 
 is only in God alone, and not in our own modifications, it 
 would follow that if man loved himself by a movement 
 of which he was himself the cause, so far from his self-love 
 making him just, it would corrupt him infinitely more than 
 the self-love of the wickedest of men. For there was never a 
 soul so black and possessed by a self-love so irregular but that 
 the beauty of the immutable order could move it on certain 
 
220 EIGHTH DIALOGUE 
 
 occasions. We are, then, perfectly just only when, seeing in 
 God what He sees within Himself, we judge of what we then see 
 as God judges, and esteem and love what He esteems and loves. 
 Hence, so far from being just through ourselves, we shall never 
 be so until the time when, delivered from this body of ours 
 which confuses all our ideas, we see without obscurity the 
 eternal law in accordance with which we shall regulate in an 
 exact manner all the judgments and movements of our heart. 
 Not that we cannot say that those who have charity are truly 
 just, though they often form very unjust judgments. They are 
 just so far as the disposition of their heart is concerned. But 
 they are not just in all strictness, because they do not know 
 exactly all the relations of perfection which ought to regulate 
 their esteem and love. 
 
 XIV. Aristes. I understand, Theodore, from what you are 
 saying now that justice as well as truth dwells, so to speak, 
 eternally in an immutable nature. The just and the unjust, like 
 the true and the false, are no inventions of the human mind 
 as certain corrupt intellects maintain. Men, they say, have 
 made laws for themselves for their mutual security. It is on 
 the basis of self-interest that they made them. They have come 
 to an agreement among themselves, and by that compact they 
 are bound; for he who breaks the compact, being weaker than 
 the rest, finds himself among enemies who will satisfy their 
 self-interest in punishing him. Thus, through self-love a man is 
 bound to obey the laws of the country in which he lives, not 
 because they are just in themselves, but because in submitting 
 to them he need have no fear of those who are stronger. 
 According to these writers everything accrues to men by nature. 
 Each man has a right to all things, and if I cede my right it 
 is because I am obliged to do so by the force of the other com- 
 petitors. Thus self-love is the rule of my actions. My law is 
 an external power; and if I were the stronger I should re-enter 
 naturally into the possession of all my rights. Can anyone say 
 anything more brutish and senseless than this ? Force has con- 
 ferred upon the lion empire over the other brutes; and I admit 
 that through it men often encroach upon one another. But to 
 believe that this ought to be permitted, and that the strongest 
 has a right to all things, without his ever being able to commit 
 an injustice, is assuredly to put oneself on the level of animals, 
 
ON METAPHYSICS 221 
 
 and to make of human society an assemblage of brute beasts. 
 Yes, Theodore, I agree that the immutable order of justice is 
 a law with which even God never dispenses, and in accordance 
 with which, it seems to me, all minds must regulate their conduct. 
 God is just in essence and by the necessity of His being. But 
 let us just see whether He is good, compassionate, patient. For 
 it seems to me that all this can hardly be in accord with the 
 severity of His justice. 
 
 XV. THEODORE. You are right, Aristes, God is neither good, 
 compassionate, nor patient in the vulgar sense of these terms. 
 These attributes as they are ordinarily understood are unworthy 
 of the infinitely perfect Being. But God possesses these qualities 
 in the sense which Reason indicates to us, and which Holy 
 Scripture, which cannot contradict itself, leads us to believe. 
 In order to explain this more distinctly, let us see whether God 
 is essentially just in the sense that he necessarily rewards good 
 deeds and punishes inevitably all those who offend Him, and 
 who, so to speak, wound His attributes. 
 
 ARISTES. I see quite well, Theodore, that if created beings are 
 capable of offending God, He will not fail to avenge Himself, loving 
 Himself as He does by the necessity of His nature. But that God 
 is capable of being offended seems to me inconceivable. And if 
 that were possible, He would, since He loves Himself, necessarily 
 never have given being to creatures who are capable of resisting 
 Him, or at least He would never have given them the power 
 or liberty to resist Him. Is not this evident ? 
 
 THEODORE. You are raising a difficulty, Aristes, which will 
 soon be cleared up. Follow me, pray, without forestalling me. 
 Is it not clear from what I have just said that the immutable 
 order is the law of God, the inviolable rule of His will, and that 
 He cannot prevent Himself from loving things in proportion as 
 they are worthy of love? 
 
 ARISTES. That is what you have just demonstrated. 
 
 THEODORE. It follows that God cannot will that His 
 creatures should not love in accordance with His immutable 
 order. He cannot exempt them from following this law. He 
 cannot will that we should love best what least deserves to be 
 loved. What! you hesitate ? Does not this seem to you certain ? 
 
 ARISTES. I find some difficulty in it. I am convinced by 
 a kind of inner feeling that God cannot will that one should 
 
222 EIGHTH DIALOGUE 
 
 esteem and love best that which deserves least to be loved or 
 esteemed. But I do not see it quite clearly. For what does 
 our love and esteem matter to God? Nothing at all. We 
 perhaps wish to be esteemed or loved because we have 
 need of each other. But God is so far above His creatures 
 that He apparently takes no interest in the opinions which we 
 entertain of Him and of His works. This has at least some 
 plausibility. 
 
 THEODORE. It has but too much for corrupt minds. It is 
 true, Aristes, that God is not afraid of and hopes for nothing 
 from our opinions. He is independent and abundantly sufficient 
 unto Himself. Nevertheless, He necessarily takes an interest 
 in our judgments and the movements of our heart. And here is 
 the proof of it. All minds are possessed of a will, and are capable 
 of willing or loving only because of the natural and irresistible 
 movement towards the Good which God incessantly impresses 
 upon them. Now, God acts upon us only because He wills 
 to do so, and He can will thus to act only through His will, 
 only through the love which He bears towards Himself and 
 His divine perfections. And it is the order of these divine 
 perfections which, strictly speaking, constitutes His law, since 
 He is just essentially and by the necessity of His being, as I 
 have just proved to you. He cannot, therefore, will that our 
 love, which is but the effect of His love, should be contrary to 
 His, or should tend towards that to which His love does not 
 tend. He cannot desire us to love that best which is least 
 worthy of love. He necessarily wills the immutable order 
 which is His natural law to be likewise our law. From this 
 law He can neither exempt Himself nor us. And, since He has 
 so made us as to leave us the choice whether to follow or not 
 to follow this natural and indispensable law, it follows that we 
 are capable of being punished or rewarded. Yes, Aristes, if we 
 are free, it proves that we can be happy or unhappy; and if 
 we are capable of happiness and unhappiness, the fact affords 
 a certain proof of our freedom. A man whose heart is dis- 
 ordered through the bad use he makes of his liberty comes under 
 the order of justice which God owes to His divine perfections, 
 if this sinner is unhappy in exact proportion to his unruliness. 
 Now, God loves order irresistibly. Therefore, He inevitably 
 punishes those who offend against it. Not that the sinner offends 
 against God in the sense in which one man offends against another, 
 
ON METAPHYSICS 223 
 
 not that God punishes him out of the pleasure which He takes 
 in vengeance; but God can act only in accordance with 
 what He is, in accordance with the requirements of the immutable 
 order of the necessary relations of all that he contains, of that 
 order whose character the arrangements of the parts of the 
 universe must bear. Thus, God is not indifferent in regard to 
 the punishment of our sins. He is neither merciful nor compas- 
 sionate, nor good, in the vulgar sense of these ideas; He is just 
 in essence and out of the natural and necessary love which He 
 bears towards His divine perfections. He can delay reward 
 ~ and punishment according as the order of His providence demands 
 or allows—an order which ordinarily compels Him to follow the 
 general laws which He has established to govern the world 
 in a way which shall bear the character of His attributes. 
 But He cannot exempt Himself from paying men sooner or 
 later according to their deeds. God is good to the good, bad, 
 so to speak, to the bad, as it is written: “‘ Cum electo electus 
 eris, et cum perverso perverteris.”” }fjeis kind and compassionate, 
 but He is so in His Son and through His Son. “ For God so 
 loved the world, that He gave His only begotten Son, that 
 whosoever believeth in Him should not perish, but have ever- 
 lasting life.’ He is good to sinners in the sense that through 
 Jesus Christ He gives them the grace necessary for changing 
 the evil inclinations of their heart, so that they should cease to be 
 sinners, so that they should do good deeds, and that they, having 
 become good and just, He might be gracious towards them, forgive 
 them their sins, in view of the atonement of Jesus Christ, and to 
 crown His own gifts, or the merits which they will have won 
 through the good use of His grace. But God is always severe, 
 always strictly observant of eternal laws, always acting in accord- 
 ance with what He is, in accordance with the requirements of His 
 own attributes, or that immutable order of the necessary relations 
 of the divine perfections contained in the substance which He 
 loves irresistibly and by the necessity of His own being. All this, 
 Aristes, isin accordance with Scripture no less than with the notion 
 which all men have of the infinitely perfect Being, though it 
 is by no means in accordance with the gross ideas of those stupid 
 and hardened sinners who want a God compliant and indulgent 
 like a man, or a God who should not interfere in our affairs and 
 should be indifferent to the life which we lead. 
 ARISTES. I do not think these truths can be doubted. 
 
224 EIGHTH DIALOGUE 
 
 THEODORE. Think them over carefully, so that you may 
 remain convinced of them, not only through a kind of inner 
 feeling by the aid of which God inculcates these truths in all 
 those whose heart is not entirely hardened and corrupted, 
 but still more by evidence of such a character that you could 
 use it to convince those rare geniuses who believe themselves 
 to have found in the love of self the true principles of natural 
 morality. 
 
NINTH DIALOGUE 
 
 God always acts in accordance with His nature—He has created all things 
 for the sake of His glory in Jesus Christ, and He did not form His 
 designs without prior regard to the ways of their realisation. 
 
 I. THEODORE. What do you think to-day, Aristes, of what 
 we were talking of yesterday ? Have you been contemplating 
 the notion of the Infinite, the Being without limitation, the 
 infinitely perfect Being, and can you now envisage it in all its 
 purity without clothing it with ideas that belong to the world 
 of created things, without embodying it, so to speak, without 
 limiting it or corrupting it, so as to adapt it to the weakness of 
 the human mind ? . 
 
 ARISTES. Ah, Theodore! How difficult it is to separate 
 the notion of Being in general from the ideas of particular finite 
 beings! How difficult it is not to attribute to God anything 
 of that one feels in oneself! We are always ascribing human 
 attributes to God ; naturally we tend to limit the Infinite. That 
 is So because the mind seeks to comprehend the incomprehensible; 
 it would see the invisible God. The mind looks for the in- 
 comprehensible in the ideas of created beings, and stops short 
 with the feelings affecting and penetrating it. But how far all 
 this is from really representing the Divine, and what strange 
 opinions about the attributes of God and His adorable Providence 
 do those people form, who judge of the divine perfections by 
 the inner feeling which they have of what takes place in them- 
 selves. I can understand vaguely what you are saying, but not 
 sufficiently to make it quite clear to myself. 
 
 THEODORE. You have been meditating, Aristes. I can see 
 that by your answer. You understand that in order to judge 
 rightly of the divine attributes and of the rules of Providence 
 it is necessary ever to keep apart from the notion of Being the 
 ideas of particular beings and never to consult one’s inner 
 feelings. That is sufficient. Let us continue our journey, and 
 
 15 225 
 
226 NINTH DIALOGUE 
 
 take care, all the three of us, lest we strike against the dangerous 
 rock of judging of the Infinite by means of notions adapted only 
 to the finite. 
 
 ARISTES. We are sure to doso, Theodore, for all the currents 
 tend that way. That I have fully realised since yesterday. 
 
 THEODORE. That is so, Aristes, but perhaps we shall escape 
 being wrecked. At any rate, let us not strike against the rocks 
 recklessly, as most men do. I hope that through our mutual 
 vigilance we shall avoid a large number of dangerous errors into 
 which men fall blindly. Let us not give our natural laziness so 
 much credit, Aristes. Courage! Ourcommon Master, who is the 
 Author of our Faith, will grant us some understanding of it, 
 if we but interrogate Him earnestly and with the respect and 
 submission which is due to His word, and to the infallible authority 
 of His Church. Let us begin then. 
 
 II. Yesterday you agreed that God knew and willed, not 
 because we know and will, but because knowing and willing are 
 veritable perfections. What do you think about this now? 
 To-day I mean to consider the Divine in its ‘‘ ways’ and as going 
 out of itself, so to speak, as adopting the plan of externalising 
 itselfin the production of its creations. Thus it is important to be 
 sure that God knows and wills, since without this assurance it is 
 impossible to understand how He could produce anything in 
 the external world. For how would He act wisely without 
 knowledge ? How could He make the universe without willing 
 to do so? Do you then believe, Aristes, that He who is self- 
 sufficient is capable of forming any desire ? 
 
 ARISTES. You are questioning me in such a way as to raise 
 within me ever new doubts. I see quite well that you do this 
 because you do not wish to take me by surprise, nor to leave to 
 prejudices any chance of retreat. Very well then, Theodore, 
 I do not doubt that God knows, but I do doubt whether He can 
 ever will anything or whether He ever has willed anything ; 
 for what could He will, He who is fully sufficient unto Himself ? 
 We will, we human creatures, but the fact that we will is a sure 
 sign of our poverty. Not having what we need, we desire it. 
 But the infinitely perfect Being can will nothing, desire nothing, 
 since He sees quite well that He is in want of nothing. 
 
 THEODORE. Oh! oh! Aristes, you surprise me. God can 
 will nothing! But howso? Can the infinitely perfect Being have 
 
ON METAPHYSICS 227 
 
 created us despite Himself, and without having willed our crea- 
 tion? We are or exist, Aristes, this fact is indisputable. 
 
 ARISTES. Yes, we are, but we are not made. Our nature 
 is eternal. We are a necessary emanation from the Divine. We 
 form a part of the divine Being. The infinitely perfect Being 
 is the universe, is the assemblage of all that is. 
 
 THEODORE. Indeed! 
 
 ARISTES. Do not suppose, Theodore, that I am impious and 
 foolish enough to yield to these dreams? But I should very much 
 like you to show me how to refute them, for I have heard there 
 are some people sufficiently corrupted to allow themselves to 
 be fascinated by them. 
 
 THEODORE. I do not know, Aristes, whether all that we 
 hear just now of certain people is quite accurate, and whether those 
 ancient philosophers who have held the opinion which you are 
 putting before me have ever really believed it to be true. For 
 though there are few extravagances of which men are incapable, I 
 would willingly believe that those who produce such chimeras do 
 not really believe in them, for, afterall, the author who has renewed 
 this impiety agrees that God is the infinitely perfect Being. 
 And that being so, how could he have believed that all created 
 beings are but parts or modifications of the Divine? Is it a 
 perfection to be unjust in one’s parts, unhappy in one’s modifi- 
 cations, ignorant, foolish, impious? There are more sinners 
 than good people, more idolaters than believers. What disorder, 
 what a conflict between the divine Being and its parts! What 
 a monstrous, frightful, and ridiculous chimera this is! A God 
 of necessity hated, blasphemed, despised, or at least ignored by the 
 majority of all beings! For how many people would ever think 
 of recognising such a divinity ? A God of necessity, unhappy or 
 unfeeling, throughout the greater number of His parts or modi- 
 fications, a God who punishes Himself, and avenges Himself upon 
 Himself—in a word, an infinitely perfect Being, who is neverthe- 
 less composed of all the disorders in the universe! What theory 
 can more obviously be declared self-contradictory ? Assuredly, if 
 there are people who can make unto themselves a God on the 
 basis of so monstrous an idea, then either they do not want 
 to see, or they are minds born to look for the properties of 
 a triangle in the idea of a circle. Believe me, Aristes, no man of 
 good sense has ever been convinced by such a craze, though 
 several persons have maintained it as though they were convinced 
 
228 NINTH DIALOGUE 
 
 by it, for selfslove is so whimsical that it may encourage us to 
 confide such views to our boon companions and to appear to be 
 convinced of them. But it is impossible to believe it true, 
 however little ability one has for argument, and however little 
 one has learnt to fear error. Those who maintain this view 
 cannot inwardly have been convinced of it unless the corruption 
 of their heart has made them so blind that it would be a loss 
 of time to attempt the task of enlightening them. Let us 
 return to our subject then. 
 
 III. We are; this fact is indisputable. God is infinitely 
 perfect. Consequently, we are dependent upon Him. We do not 
 exist despite of Him; we exist only because He willed that we 
 should have being. But how could God will that we should 
 have being, seeing that He has no need of us? How can a 
 being who lacks nothing, who is fully self-sufficient, will 
 anything ? That is the difficulty. 
 
 ARISTES. It seems to me that this difficulty may be easily 
 met, for we need only say that God has created the world, not 
 for Himself but for us. 
 
 THEODORE. But what about ourselves, for whom did He 
 create us ? 
 
 ARISTES. For Himself. 
 
 THEODORE. The difficulty recurs, for God has no need 
 of us. 
 
 ARISTES. Let us say then that God has created us, out of 
 nothing but pure kindness, or pure charity towards us. 
 
 THEODORE. Let us not say that, at least not without explana- 
 tion, for it seems to me evident that the infinitely perfect Being 
 loves Himself infinitely, necessarily, that His will is but the 
 love which He bears towards Himself and His divine perfections, 
 that the movement of His love cannot, as is the case with our- 
 selves, come to Him from the outside, nor consequently lead 
 Him outside Himself; and that, being Himself the principle of 
 His action, it follows that He alone must be the end or aim of 
 that action ; in a word, that in God any love other than self- 
 love would be irregular and contrary to the immutable order 
 which He contains, and which is the inviolable law of the divine 
 volition. Wecan say that God has made us out of pure kindness 
 in the sense that He has made us without having need of us. 
 But He has made us for Himself, for God can will nothing except 
 
ON METAPHYSICS _ 229 
 
 by His will, and His will is but the love which He bears towards 
 Himself. The reason, the motive, the end of His decrees can 
 be found in Himself alone. | 
 
 ArIsTEs. I find some difficulty in yielding to your arguments, 
 though they appear to me evident. 
 
 THEOoTIMUS. Do you not see, Aristes, that to look for the 
 motives and ends of His actions outside Himself means to 
 anthropomorphise God ? But if this thought of yours, of making 
 God act solely from pure kindness, attracts you so much, how 
 comes it that the number of reprobates is twenty times or a 
 hundred times larger than that of the elect ? 
 
 ARISTES. That is due to the Fall. 
 
 THEOTIMUS. Yes; but how is it that God did not prevent 
 a Fall fraught with so much sorrow for the creatures whom He 
 has made, and made out of pure kindness ? 
 
 ARISTES. He had His reasons. 
 
 THEOTIMUS. God then has within Himself good reasons 
 for all that He does, which reasons do not always harmonise 
 with a certain idea of kindness and charity which is very pleasant 
 for our self-love, but which is contrary to the divine law, to that 
 immutable order which contains all the good reasons which 
 God may have. 
 
 ARISTES. But, Theotimus, since God is fully self-sufficient, 
 why should He adopt the plan of creating this world ? 
 
 THEOTIMUS. God has His reasons, end and motive, all within 
 Himself. For, prior to His decrees, what could there have been 
 which was capable of determining Him to make them? Since 
 God is fully self-sufficient, it was with entire liberty that He 
 determined Himself to create the world, for if God wanted His 
 creatures, loving Himself irresistibly as He does, he would of 
 necessity produce them. Yes, Aristes, all that may be legitimately 
 inferred from the self-sufficiency of God is that the world is no 
 necessary emanation from the divine Being—which fact faith 
 teaches us. But to imagine that the divine abundance can render 
 God impotent is to go against an obvious fact, and to deprive 
 the Creator of the glory which He derives eternally from His 
 creatures. 
 
 IV. AristEs. How so, Theotimus? Has God created the 
 world because of the glory which He might derive from it ? 
 If this glory had been the motive which determined the Creator, 
 
230 NINTH DIALOGUE 
 
 we should have a strange thing indeed determining God to act. 
 How is it that God should have deprived Himself of this glory 
 throughout an eternity? Moreover, you say “glory.’’ What 
 do you mean by this word? Assuredly, Theotimus, you have 
 ventured upon a path beset with difficulties. 
 
 TuHeEoTIMus. The path is difficult. But Theodore, who has 
 followed it successfully, will not leave me entangled in it. 
 
 ARISTES. What, Theodore, God has made the universe for 
 His glory! You approve of a thought so anthropomorphic, 
 so unworthy of the infinitely perfect Being. Do speak again, 
 I beg you, instead of Theotimus. Explain yourself. 
 
 THEODORE. It is at this point, Aristes, that much attention 
 and vigilance is necessary in order to avoid the rock you know 
 of. Take care lest I strike against it. When an architect has 
 constructed a commodious building and one architecturally 
 excellent, he experiences a secret satisfaction because his work 
 testifies to the skill of his art. Thus one can say that the beauty 
 of his work does him honour because it bears the character of 
 the qualities which he esteems and loves, and which he is glad 
 to possess. If, in addition, someone happens to stop in order 
 to contemplate his building and to admire its arrangement and 
 its proportions, the architect derives from this a second glory, 
 which is still mainly founded on the esteem and love which he 
 has for the qualities he possesses, and which he would be glad to 
 possess in a more eminent degree; for if he believed that the 
 quality of being an architect was unworthy of him, if he despised 
 this art or science, his work would cease to be an honour to him, 
 and those who praised him for having constructed it would 
 merely upset him. 
 
 ARISTES. Take care, Theodore, you are going right against 
 the rock. 
 
 THEODORE. All this is merely by way of analogy; follow 
 me. It is certain that God loves Himself and all His qualities 
 necessarily. Now, it is clear that He cannot act except in 
 accordance with what Heis. Therefore His work, since it bears 
 the character of His attributes in which He glories, does Him 
 honour. Esteeming and loving Himself irresistibly as He does, 
 God finds His glory and His satisfaction in a work which in some 
 way expresses His excellent qualities. 
 
 This, then, is one of the senses in which God may be said to 
 act for the sake of His glory. And, as you will see, the glory Is 
 
ON METAPHYSICS 281 
 
 not foreign to Him, for it is based upon nothing but the esteem 
 and love which He has for His own qualities. Let there exist 
 no intelligent spirits to admire His work, let there exist none 
 but foolish and stupid men who do not discover its wonders, 
 let these, on the contrary, despise this wonderful work, let them 
 blaspheme it, let them look upon it because of the monstrosities 
 they find therein, as the necessary effect of a blind nature, 
 let them be scandalised at seeing innocence oppressed and 
 injustice upon the throne ; God will not enjoy less of that glory 
 for the sake of which He acts, of that glory which has as its 
 principle the love and esteem which He has for His qualities, 
 of that glory which ever determines Him to act in accordance 
 with what He is, or in a way which bears the character of His 
 attributes. Thus, granted that God wills to act, He cannot 
 but act for the sake of His glory, in this first sense, since He 
 cannot but act in accord with what He is, and through the love 
 which He bears towards Himself and His divine perfections. 
 But, as. He is self-sufficient, this glory cannot determine Him 
 irresistibly to will to act, and I even believe that this glory alone 
 cannot be a motive sufficient to make Him act, unless He dis- 
 cover also the secret of rendering His work divine, and in har- 
 mony with His action which is divine. For, afterall, the universe, 
 however grand, however perfect it may be, is still finite, is still 
 unworthy of the action of a God whose worth is infinite. God 
 will not, therefore, adopt the plan of producing it. That to my 
 mind is the greatest difficulty. 
 
 ARISTES. Why, Theodore ? It is easy to solve this difficulty. 
 Let us make the world infinite. Let us make it consist of an 
 infinite number of vortices ; for why should we imagine a vast 
 heaven surrounding all else and beyond which there is nothing ? 
 
 THEODORE. No, Aristes. Let us leave to created things the 
 character which is suited for them, let us give them nothing 
 which approximates to the divine attributes. But let us en- 
 deavour nevertheless to rescue the universe from its profane 
 state and to render it by aid of something divine worthy of the 
 divine satisfaction, worthy of the action of a God whose worth 
 is infinite, 
 
 ARISTES. How can we do this? 
 
 THEODORE. Through union with a divine Personality. 
 
 ARISTES. Ah, Theodore, you always resort to the truths 
 of faith to get out of a difficulty. That is not philosophical. 
 
282 NINTH DIALOGUE 
 
 V. THEODORE. What do you want, Aristes? I doso because 
 it is by means of them that I find a way out, and because without 
 them I can find no solution for thousands upon thousands of 
 difficulties. What then! Is not the universe, sanctified by 
 Jesus Christ and subsisting in Him, so to speak, more divine, 
 more worthy of the action of God, than all your infinite vortices ? 
 
 ARISTES. Yes, beyond a doubt. But if man had not 
 sinned. the Word would not have taken bodily form. 
 
 THEODORE. I know not, Aristes. But even if man had not 
 sinned, a divine Person would not on that account have failed to 
 conjoin Himself with the universe in order to sanctify it, to rescue 
 it from its profane state, to render it divine, to endow it with 
 an infinite dignity in order that God, who can act only for the 
 sake of His glory, should receive from it a glory which corresponds 
 perfectly to His action. Cannot the Word become conjoined 
 with God’s work without being incarnate? He made Himself 
 aman, but could He not have made Himself an angel? It is 
 true that in making Himself a man He conjoined Himself at 
 the same time with the two substances, mind and body, of which 
 the universe is composed, and through this union He sanctified 
 the whole of nature. In view of this consideration I do not 
 know whether the Fall was the only cause of the Incarnation of 
 the Son of God. For He could have bestowed upon angels the 
 grace which He bestowed upon man. Moreover, God foresaw, 
 and He permitted the Fall. That is enough, for it proves with 
 certainty that the world as saved by Jesus Christ is of greater 
 worth than the same universe as at first constructed, otherwise 
 God would never have allowed His work to have become corrupted. 
 It indicates most certainly that the main design of God was 
 the incarnation of His Son. Let us see then, Aristes, in what 
 way God acts for the sake of His glory. Let us justify this 
 proposition, which has seemed to you so poor and perhaps 
 as devoid of sense and untenable. 
 
 VI. In the first place, God thinks of a work which through 
 its excellence and beauty should express qualities that He loves 
 irresistibly, and which He is glad to have. But this, nevertheless, 
 is not sufficient to induce Him to adopt the plan of producing 
 it, because a finite and profane world, not having as yet anything 
 divine in it, can have no relation to His action which is divine. 
 What does He do? He makes it divine by means of union 
 
ON METAPHYSICS 233 
 
 with a divine Person. And through the union he elevates it 
 infinitely and receives from it, mainly in consequence of the 
 divinity which He communicates to it, this first glory, which 
 is akin to the glory of the architect who has built a house which 
 does him honour because it possesses qualities which he is proud 
 to possess. God receives, I say, this first glory, illumined, so to 
 speak, with an infinite brilliance. Nevertheless, it is from Him- 
 self alone that He derives the glory which He receives from 
 the sanctification of His Church, or from that spiritual edifice 
 of which we are the living stones, sanctified by Jesus Christ. 
 In the second place, this Architect receives a second glory 
 from the spectators and admirers of His building, and it is perhaps 
 through contemplation of this kind of glory that He has en- 
 deavoured to make it as magnificent and superb as lay within His 
 power. It is also in view of the worship which our sovereign 
 Priest was to establish for the honour of God that He resolved 
 to make unto Himself a temple wherein He would be eternally 
 glorified. Yes, vile and despicable creatures as we are, we 
 render, through our divine Head, and shall render eternally, 
 divine honours to God, honours worthy of the divine Majesty, 
 honours which God received and will always receive with 
 pleasure. Our adoration and our praise are to Jesus Christ 
 sacrifices of good odour. God takes pleasure in these spiritual 
 and divine sacrifices, and if He has repented having estab- 
 lished a carnal creed, and having made man,! He has sworn 
 by Himself that He will never repent having saved him, 
 having sanctified him, having made us all priests under our 
 supreme Pontiff, the true Melchisedec.2 God looks upon us in 
 Jesus Christ as gods, as His children, as His heirs and 
 co-heirs of His well-beloved Son.3 He has adopted us in this 
 dear Son, it is through Him that He has given us access to 
 His Supreme Maiesty, it is through Him that He feels satisfaction 
 in His work, it is through this secret that He has found in His 
 wisdom that He goes out of Himself, that He goes, if it be 
 permissible to speak thus, out of the sanctity which separates 
 Him infinitely from all creatures, that He goes out, I say, with 
 a magnificence from which He derives a glory capable of satisfy- 
 ing Himself. The Man-God precedes Him always in His ways, and 
 justifies all His designs and through His creatures causes honours 
 to be paid Him, wherewith He might be content. Jesus Christ 
 
 A Eeb. Vil) 205 325) Vid, 21 Pet. il. 9. 
 3 John iii, 1-22; Rom. viii. 16, 17. 
 
234 NINTH DIALOGUE 
 
 appeared only in the fulness of time, but He existed throughout 
 all the generations in the designs of the Creator, and when He 
 was born in Bethlehem, then God was glorified, then God was 
 satisfied with His work. All blessed spirits recognised this truth 
 when the angels announced the birth of the Saviour to the 
 shepherds. ‘‘Glory to God,” they said in common accord, “ peace 
 on earth, God is well pleased with mankind.’ ! Yes, assuredly, 
 the incarnation of the Word is the first and foremost of God’s 
 designs, it is that which justifies His action, it is that which, 
 unless I am mistaken, is the solution of thousands upon thousands 
 of difficulties, of thousands upon thousands of apparent con- 
 tradictions.? 
 
 Man, Aristes,is a sinner, he is not such as God has made him. 
 God, then, has allowed His work to become corrupt. Harmonise 
 this with His wisdon and His power, save yourself from the 
 difficulty without the aid of the Man-God, without admitting 
 a Mediator, without granting that God has had mainly in view 
 the incarnation of His Son. I defy you to do it even with 
 the principles of the best philosophy. As for myself, I find myself 
 at a loss at every moment, whenever I endeavour to philosophise 
 without the aid of faith. It is faith alone that can guide me and 
 sustain me in my researches into the truths having any reference 
 to God, as the truths of metaphysics have; for so far as mathe- 
 matical truths are concerned, which estimate quantities, numbers, 
 times, movements, all things that differ merely from the point 
 of view of “‘ more or less,’”’ I agree that faith does not help us 
 to discover them, and that experience together with reason are 
 sufficient for the attainment of knowledge of all the parts of physics. 
 
 VII. AristEs. I fully understand what you are saying, 
 Theodore, and I find it quite in conformity with reason. Indeed, 
 I rejoice inwardly that in following our faith we are able to 
 attain to an understanding of those truths which St. Paul 
 teaches us in several parts of his admirable epistles. But two 
 minor difficulties suggest themselves to my mind. The first is, 
 that it seems that God was not perfectly free in the production 
 of His work, since He derives from it a glory which is infinite, 
 and which satisfies Him so intensely ; the second is, that at any 
 rate He ought not to have deprived Himself for an eternity 
 
 t Luke ii. 14. 
 
 fe Traité de la Nature et de la Grace, Discours i. and Eclaircissements, ii. 
 and 111. 
 
ON METAPHYSICS 235 
 
 of that satisfaction which He has in seeing Himself so divinely 
 honoured by His creatures. 
 
 THEODORE. My reply to you is, Aristes, that the infinitely 
 perfect Being is fully self-sufficient, and that therefore He loves 
 necessarily only His own substance, only His divine perfections. 
 That is evident and is sufficient to meet your first difficulty. 
 But, as to the second, observe that God is bound never to do 
 anything which belies His qualities, and that He is bound to leave 
 upon all creatures who are essentially dependent the marks 
 of their dependence. Now, the essential character of the de- 
 pendent is the fact that it has not always existed. An 
 eternal world appears to be a necessary emanation from the 
 divine Being. God had to give an indication that He is so 
 self-sufficient that throughout an eternity He was able to 
 dispense with His work. Through Jesus Christ He derives from 
 it a glory which satisfies Him, but He would not receive this 
 glory if the incarnation had been eternal, because such an eternal 
 incarnation would imply a defect in those attributes which it 
 ought to glorify as much as possible. 
 
 ARISTES. I admit, Theodore, that none but a necessary 
 and independent Being can be eternal. It is right that all 
 that is not God should bear the essential mark of its dependence ; 
 that appears to be evident. But God could, without making 
 the world eternal, have created it sooner than He has done 
 by a thousand millions of centuries.. Why then delay so long 
 a work wherefrom He derives so much glory ? 
 
 THEODORE. He did not delay it, Aristes. Soon and late 
 are properties of time which have no relation to eternity. If 
 the world had been created a thousand million centuries 
 before it actually was created, we could still have confronted 
 you with the same question, and so repeatedly ad infinitum. 
 Thus God did not create the world too late, seeing that an 
 eternity had to pass away before it came into existence, and 
 that a difference of a thousand million centuries is of no signi- 
 ficance when compared with eternity. 
 
 ARISTES. I do not know how to reply to you, Theodore; I 
 shall think over what you have just told me, viz. that God acts 
 only for the sake of His glory, only for the love which He bears 
 towards Himself, for I can see that this principle carries with 
 it a number of consequences. But what do you think about 
 it, Theotimus ? 
 
236 NINTH DIALOGUE 
 
 VIII. THEoTiImus. This principle seems to me indisputable, 
 for it is evident that the infinitely perfect Being can find in 
 nothing but Himself the motive of His volitions and the reasons 
 for His action. But I feel that I could wish that God loved 
 us a little more, so that He did something solely for His love 
 of us, for after all Scripture teaches us that God loved us so 
 much that He gave us His only Son. That was a great gift, 
 Aristes, and one which seems to me to indicate rather more 
 disinterested love than the love which Theodore attributes to 
 Him. 
 
 ARIsTES. Well, Theodore, what do you say to that ? 
 
 THEODORE. That Theotimus is striking against the rock, 
 or rather that he feels himself in the current which drives him 
 thereto, unless perhaps he wishes to see what your opinion is. 
 
 ARISTES. That is not a reply. 
 
 THEODORE. I do not reply because I should very much 
 like you to do so; but since you wish to say nothing, at least 
 make some effort to understand my meaning. I believe, Aristes, 
 that God loved us so much that He has given us His only Son, 
 as we are told in Scripture,? but I believe also what the same 
 Scripture teaches me, that He loved His Son so much that He 
 has given us to Him as well as all the nations of the earth. 
 Finally, I believe too, because of what I am taught in Scripture, 
 that if He has predestined us to His Son, and if He has chosen 
 His Son for the first of His predestined ones, it is because He 
 willed to make Him His Pontiff, in order to receive from Him, 
 and through Him from us, the adoration which is His due,3 for 
 this in a few words is the order of things: All belongs 
 to us, we belong to Jesus Christ, and Jesus Christ belongs 
 to God; “things present or things to come,” said St Paul, 
 “all are yours; and ye are Christ’s; and Christ is God’s.’’ 4 
 That is so because God is necessarily the end of all His 
 works. You must distinctly understand, Aristes, that God 
 loves all things in proportion as they are worthy of love, that 
 the law which He follows inviolably is nothing but the immutable 
 order, which I have told you several times can consist in nothing 
 but the necessary relations among the divine perfections. In 
 a word, you must understand that God acts according to what 
 He is, and you will then see without difficulty that He loves us 
 so much that He does for us all that He cando. Acting as He is 
 
 1 John iii 16. 2 Ps. ii. 8. 3 Matt. xxviii, 18; Eph.i. 4 1 Cor iii, 22, 23. 
 
ON METAPHYSICS 237 
 
 bound to act, you will understand that God loves the natures 
 that He has made to the extent to which they are as He has 
 made them, that He loves them, I say, according to the degree 
 of perfection which their archetype possesses, and that He will 
 give them happiness in proportion to the rewards they merit 
 by conforming to His law. You will understand that at first God 
 created man righteous and without fault, and that if He made 
 Him free, it was because He willed to make him happy without 
 detriment to what he owes to Himself. You will gladly believe 
 that God can still love men who have become sinners and 
 are therefore deserving of the divine anger with so much charity 
 and lovingkindness as to send His Son to deliver them from 
 their sins. You will not doubt that God cherishes men, 
 sanctified by Jesus Christ, so much that He has given them a 
 share of His heritage and of His eternal felicity. But you will 
 never understand how God can act solely for the sake of His 
 creatures or in an impulse of pure kindness, the motive of which 
 His reason does not discover in the divine attributes. Once 
 again, God need not act, but if He does act, He cannot but regulate 
 Himself in accordance with what He is, in accordance with the 
 laws which He finds in His substance. He can love men, 
 but only because of the relation in which they stand to Him. 
 He finds in the beauty which the archetype of His work 
 contains a motive for its realisation, but that is so because 
 this beauty does Him honour, because it possesses qualities in 
 which He glories, and which He is glad to possess. Thus the 
 love which God has for us is not interested in the sense that He 
 has need of us, but it is interested in the sense that He loves us 
 only by the love which He bears towards Himself, and to His 
 Divine perfections, which we give expression to in our nature 
 (this is the first glory which all beings of necessity render to 
 their author), and which we adore in judgments and actions 
 which are their due. This is the second glory which we 
 render to God through our sovereign Priest, Our Lord Jesus 
 Christ. 
 
 THEOoTIMUS. All this, Theodore, seems to me sufficiently 
 explained. The infinitely perfect Being is fully self-sufficient ; 
 this is one of the names which God gives Himself in Scripture, 
 and nevertheless He has made all things for Himself. ‘‘ The 
 Lord hath made all things for Himself.’”’! He has made all 
 
 t Prov. xvi. 4. 
 
288 NINTH DIALOGUE 
 
 things in Jesus Christ, and through Jesus Christ ‘‘all things 
 were created by Him and for Him’’;! all for the glory which 
 He deserves from His Church in Jesus Christ; “‘unto Him be 
 glory in the Church by Christ Jesus throughout all ages, world 
 without end.” 2 The Epistles of St. Paul are all full of these 
 truths. Therein is the foundation of our religion, and you have 
 shown us that there is nothing more in conformity with reason 
 and with the most exact notion of the infinitely perfect Being. 
 Let us proceed to something else. I hope that when Aristes 
 has given this matter full consideration he will become convinced 
 of the truth of what I have said. 
 
 ARISTES. I am _ persuaded of the truth of it already, 
 Theotimus. It is not my fault that Theodore does not follow 
 up the principle in its further applications. 
 
 IX. THEODORE. Let us endeavour, Aristes, to understand 
 the more general principles thoroughly. For afterwards the 
 rest will follow by itself, all will unfold itself to the mind in 
 orderly fashion and with a wonderful clearness. Let us then 
 try to discover further from the notion of the infinitely perfect 
 Being what God’s designs could be. I do not mean to say that 
 we can discover them in detail, but perhaps we may be able to 
 recognise the most general of them, and you will see from 
 the sequel that the little that we have already discovered will 
 be of great use tous. Do you not think, then, that God would 
 will to produce the most beautiful and the most perfect 
 work possible ? 
 
 ARISTES. Yes, without a doubt, for the more perfect His 
 work, the more will it express the qualities and perfections 
 in which God glories. This evidently follows from what you 
 have just said. 
 
 THEODORE. The universe then is the most perfect that 
 God could make? How can that be? Do all these mon- 
 strosities, all these disorders, this large number of infidels, 
 contribute to the perfection of the universe ? 
 
 ARISTES. You disconcert me, Theodore. God wills to 
 produce the most perfect world possible, for the more perfect 
 it is the more it will honour Him. This seems to be evident, 
 but I see quite well that it would be a more finished production 
 if it were free from thousands upon thousands of faults which 
 
 t Col. i. 16. * Eph, ili. 21. 
 
ON METAPHYSICS 289 
 
 disfigure it. We have here a contradiction which cuts me short. 
 It would seem that God did not accomplish His design, or that 
 He did not adopt that design, which was most worthy of His 
 attributes. 
 
 THEODORE. You think so because you have not yet suffi- 
 ciently understood its principles. You have not meditated enough 
 upon the notion of the infinitely perfect Being which contains 
 these principles. You do not yet understand how to make 
 God act in accordance with what He is. 
 
 THEOTIMUS. But, Aristes, mayit not be that the irregularities 
 of nature, the monstrosities and even the infidels are as the 
 shadow of a picture which give force to the work and relief to 
 the figures ? , 
 
 ARISTES. This idea has something in it which pleases the 
 imagination, but it does not satisfy the intellect. For I under- 
 stand quite clearly that the universe would be more perfect 
 if it had nothing irregular in any of the parts which compose 
 it, and on the contrary there is hardly any portion of it in which 
 there is not some fault. 
 
 THEOTIMUS. Must we hold, then, that God does not will 
 His work to be perfect ? 
 
 ARISTES. That cannot be so either, for God cannot desire 
 positively and directly irregularities which disfigure His work, 
 and which do not express any of the perfections which He 
 possesses and in which He glories. This seems to me evident. 
 God permits the disorder, but He does not produce it, He does 
 not will it. 
 
 THeEotimus. ‘“‘God permits.” I do not understand this 
 term. To whom is it that God gives permission to freeze the 
 vines and to ruin the harvests which He has caused to 
 grow? Why does He permit the admission into His work of 
 monstrosities which He does not produce and which He does 
 not will? Or is the universe not such as God has willed it to be ? 
 
 ARISTES. No, for the universe is not such as God made it. 
 
 THEOTIMUS. That seems to be true with regard to the disorder 
 which has crept into it through the bad use we make of our 
 freedom, for God has made no infidels. He only permits men 
 to search after Him. I understand this, though I do not know 
 the reason of it. But assuredly none but God has produced 
 the monstrosities that we find. 
 
 ARISTES. Monsters ars indeed strange creatures, if they 
 
240 NINTH DIALOGUE 
 
 do not render honour to Him who gave them being. Do you 
 know, Theotimus, why God, who to-day covers the whole country 
 with flowers and fruit, will ravage it to-morrow with frost and 
 hail ? 
 
 THEOTIMUS. Because the country will be more beautiful in 
 a barren state than in a fruitful one, though this does not suit 
 us. We often judge of the beauty of God’s works by the use 
 which we make of them, and we fall into error. 
 
 ARISTES. Still, it is better to judge of them by their utility 
 than by their inutility. Beautiful, indeed, is a country 
 destroyed by a storm! 
 
 THEOTIMUS. Very beautiful. A country inhabited by sinners 
 ought to be in desolation. 
 
 ArIsTEs. If the storm spared the lands of good people, you 
 would perhaps be right. Even then it would be more to the 
 purpose to refuse rain to the field of a brute than to make his 
 wheat spring up and grow, only in order to cut it down by 
 a hailstorm. This assuredly would be the shortest road. 
 But it is often rather the least guilty who are treated worst. 
 What apparent contradictions in God’s action! Theodore has 
 already taught me principles by the aid of which these contra- 
 dictions can be removed, but I have understood them so badly 
 that I no longer remember them. If you do not want to lead 
 me into the right path, Theotimus, for I see that you are amusing 
 yourself at my expense, allow Theodore to speak. 
 
 THEOTIMUS. That is fair. 
 
 X. THEODORE. You see quite well, Aristes, that it is not 
 enough to have half seen these principles, it is necessary to 
 master them in order that they should suggest themselves 
 to the mind when needed. Listen then, since Theotimus does 
 not want to tell you what he knows perfectly well. 
 
 You are not mistaken in believing that the more perfect 
 a work is, the more it expresses the perfections of its maker, and 
 that the work does Him the greater honour the more the per- 
 fections which it expresses please Him who possesses them, 
 and that therefore God would desire to make His work as perfect 
 as possible. But you have grasped but half of this principle, and 
 it is on this account that you are in an awkward position. God 
 wills that His work should do Him honour, this you under- 
 stand well enough. Yet observe, God does not will that His ways 
 
 
 
. ON METAPHYSICS 241 
 
 should dishonour Him, This is the other half of the principle. 
 God wills that His action just like His work should bear 
 the character of His attributes. Not content that the universe 
 should honour Him by its excellence and beauty, He wills that 
 His ways should glorify Him in their simplicity, fruitfulness, 
 universality, uniformity, and all the characteristics which express 
 qualities in the possession of which He glories. Do not, there- 
 fore, imagine that God willed to create the most perfect world 
 possible, but merely the most perfect in relation to the ways 
 most worthy of Him, for what God wills simply, directly, and 
 absolutely in His designs is always to act in as divine a manner 
 as possible, to make His procedure as well as His work bear the 
 character of His attributes, to act exactly in accordance with 
 what He is and with all that Heis. From all eternity God has 
 seen all the possible worlds and all the possible ways in which 
 each of them could be produced; and, as He acts only for the sake 
 of His glory, only in accordance with what He is, He has resolved 
 to will that work which could be produced in ways which in con- 
 junction with the work should honour Him more than any 
 other world produced in any other way. He has formed a plan 
 which is to bear, pre-eminently, the character of His attributes, 
 which is to express exactly the qualities which He possesses, 
 and which He glories in possessing. Grasp this principle firmly, 
 my dear Aristes, lest it should escape you, for of all principles 
 it is perhaps the most fruitful. 
 
 Furthermore, do not imagine that God ever makes a plan 
 blindly, I mean without having compared it with the methods 
 or means necessary for its execution. In this way men act who 
 are often sorry that they have made certain resolutions because of 
 the difficulties which they encounter thereby. To God nothing 
 is difficult ; but observe, all things are not equally worthy of 
 Him. His ways must bear the character of His attributes no less 
 than His work. It follows that God must attend to the ways 
 as well as to the work. It is not sufficient that His work should 
 honour Him by its excellence ; it is necessary, in addition, that 
 His ways should glorify Him by their divinity. And if a world 
 more perfect than ours could not be created and maintained 
 except by ways which were conversely less perfect, so that the 
 expression, so to speak, which this new world and its new ways 
 would give to the divine qualities would be less than that 
 of our world, I do not fear to say that God is too wise, loves His 
 
 16 
 
 
 
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 Se Sa 
 
 = 
 
 Se: 
 
 Su oe 
 a 
 
 ES Sa ae 
 
 ) 
 
 
 
242 NINTH DIALOGUE 
 
 glory too much, acts too exactly in accordance with what He is, 
 to be able to give it the preference to the world which He has 
 created ; for God is indifferent in His plans only when they are 
 equally wise, equally divine, equally glorious, equally worthy 
 of His attributes, only when the relation consisting in the beauty 
 of the work and the simplicity of the ways is exactlyequal. When 
 the relation is not equal, though God may do nothing at all 
 because He is self-sufficient, He yet cannot choose and adopt 
 the inferior course. He has the power not to act, but He cannot 
 act uselessly, nor can He multiply His ways without at the same 
 time increasing His glory. His wisdom forbids Him to adopt that 
 one out of all the possible designs which is not the wisest. The 
 love which He bears towards Himself does not permit Him to 
 choose that which does not honour Him most truly. 
 
 XI. ARISTES. I quite grasp your principle, Theodore. 
 God acts only in accordance with what He is, only in 
 a way which bears the character of His attributes, only for 
 the sake of the glory which He finds in the relation which His 
 work and His ways jointly have to the perfections which 
 He possesses and in the possession of which He glories. It is 
 the grandeur of this relation that God considers in framing His 
 designs ; for this is the principle: God can act only in accordance 
 with what He is, and can will absolutely and directly only for 
 the sake of His glory. If the defects of the universe, wherein we 
 dwell, diminish this relation, the simplicity, fruitfulness and 
 wisdom of its ways and laws which God follows increase it all 
 the more. A world more perfect, but produced in ways less 
 fruitful and less simple, would not bear to the same extent as 
 ours the character of the divine attributes. This is why the 
 world is full of infidels, monstrosities, disorder of all kinds. God 
 could convert all men, render impossible all disorders; but in 
 order to accomplish this He must not disturb the simplicity and 
 uniformity of His action, for He is bound to honour it by 
 the wisdom of His ways as well as by the perfection of His 
 creatures. He does not fermit monstrosities, He makes them. 
 But He makes them only in order not to change anything in 
 His procedure and only out of respect for the generality of His 
 ways, only in order to follow exactly the natural laws which He 
 has established and which nevertheless He has not established 
 because of the monstrous effects which they are wont to produce, 
 
 
 

 
 ON METAPHYSICS 243 
 
 but for effects more worthy of His wisdom and lovingkindness. 
 That is why one can say that He permits them, though none 
 but He is responsible for their production. For He wills 
 them only indirectly, only because they are a natural conse- 
 quence of His laws. | 
 
 THEODORE. How prompt you are in drawing conclusions |! 
 
 ARISTES. I can do so because the principle is clear, because 
 it is fruitful. | 
 
 THEODORE. At first it seems, Aristes, that the principle, 
 because of its generality, has no solidity. But when followed 
 closely, it takes hold of us to such an extent and so promptly by 
 the number of astonishing truths which it discloses to us that we 
 are charmed with it. Learn from this that the most general 
 principles are the most fruitful ones. They appear at first to 
 be mere chimeras. Their generality is the cause of this, for the 
 mind tends to ignore that which does not touch it. Yet hold 
 these principles firmly if you can and follow them; they will 
 teach you a good deal in a short time. 
 
 ARIsTES. I shall feel sure of this when I meditate a little upon 
 what you have told me, and even now, without any mental 
 effort, I see, it seems to me, in one glance, in your principle the 
 explanation of a number of difficulties which I have always felt 
 regarding the action of God. I see that all those effects which 
 contradict one another, those productions which conflict with 
 and destroy one another, those disorders which disfigure the 
 world,—1 see that all this indicates no contradiction in the cause 
 which governs it, no lack of intelligence, no want of power, but 
 an astounding fruitfulness and a perfect uniformity in the laws 
 of nature. 
 
 THEODORE. Gently, Aristes, for we shall explain all this 
 more exactly in the sequel. 
 
 XII. Artistes. I understand even that the reason of the 
 predestination of man must be found in your principle. I used 
 to believe that God had chosen from all eternity such and such 
 beings precisely because He so willed without there being 
 any reason for His choice, either on His part or ours, and that 
 subsequently He consulted His wisdom as to the means requisite 
 for sanctifying them and leading them safely to heaven. But 
 I understand now that I was mistaken. God does not make 
 ‘any plans blindly without comparing them with the means of 
 
244 NINTH DIALOGUE 
 
 their realisation. He is as wise in the formation of His decrees 
 as in their execution. There are reasons for the predestina- 
 tion of the elect. These are, namely, that the Church of the 
 future formed in the way which God adopts does Him more 
 honour than any Church formed in any other way. For God 
 can act only for the sake of His glory, only in a way which 
 best indicates the character of His attributes. God has not 
 predestined us, neither us nor even our divine Head, because 
 of our natural deserts, but in virtue of reasons furnished to 
 Him by His inviolable law, the immutable order, the necessary 
 relations of the perfections which He comprises in His sub- 
 stance. He wished to unite His Word with a particular nature 
 and to predestine certain people in His Son, because His 
 wisdom indicated to Him that He ought to deal with them 
 thus for the sake of His own glory. Am I following your great 
 principle rightly, Theodore ? 
 
 THEODORE. Quite rightly. But are you not afraid of going 
 too far into theology? You are already in the midst of the 
 greatest mysteries. 
 
 ARISTES. Let us return, forit is not my business to penetrate 
 into these mysteries. 
 
 THEOTIMUS. You do well, Aristes, to return promptly, for 
 St. Augustine, the great teacher of grace, wishes us not to look 
 for the reasons of the choice which God has made amongst men. 
 Predestination is entirely gratuitous, and the reason why God 
 takes a certain person and not another is that He shows pity 
 to whomsoever He pleases. 
 
 ARISTES. What, Theodore! Does St. Augustine maintain 
 that God does not consult His wisdom in the formation of His 
 designs, but only in their execution ? 
 
 THEODORE. No, Aristes. But apparently Theotimus is ex- 
 plaining St. Augustine after the manner of certain people. 
 The learned doctor writing against the heretics of his time is 
 rejecting the wicked reason which they gave for God’s choice 
 and for the distribution of His grace. Yet he was always 
 ready to accept any accounts which were in harmony with 
 faith and which did not destroy the free character of God’s grace. 
 The argument of the heretics put briefly is this; it is well 
 that you should know it and be in a position to refute it. 
 God wishes all men to be saved, and to arrive at the knowledge 
 of truth. They can, therefore, all be saved through their natural 
 
ae, ae Te 
 
 "yi 
 
 Aras aT, aie se 
 
 la nae 22 = ae mony 
 
 i + wal 
 
 
 
 ON METAPHYSICS 245 
 
 endowments. But if this is not possible, without the aid of 
 inner grace, said the more moderate amongst them, let us just 
 see to whom God will grant it. God elects some in preference 
 to others. Well, agreed; but at least let His choice or election 
 be reasonable. Now, it is a commonly accepted notion that 
 he who chooses the worse chooses badly. If, therefore, God 
 does not grant His grace to all alike, if He makes a selection, 
 He must needs prefer the best or less wicked to the more wicked, 
 for there can be no doubt that the selection which He makes 
 of some rather than others is a wise and reasonable selection. He 
 is no respector of persons. It follows necessarily that the reason 
 of His choice in the distribution of His grace is to be found in 
 the good use which we can still make of our natural endowments. 
 It is for us to will, to desire our recovery, to believe in the 
 Mediator, to implore His pity—in a word to begin, and God will 
 come to our aid. Through the good use that we make of our 
 free will we shall merit God’s gift of grace. 
 
 ARISTES. These people argued well. 
 
 THEODORE. Perfectly well, but on the basis of false ideas ; 
 they did not consult the notion of the infinitely perfect Being. 
 They made God act in the manner in which men act. For, 
 observe, why do you think that God sends us rain ? 
 
 ARISTES. To render fruitful the land which we cultivate. 
 
 THEODORE. Then it would only be necessary to sow a plant in 
 a field in order that it should rain; for since God does not cause 
 rain to fall upon all lands alike, since He makes a choice or 
 selection, He is bound to choose reasonably, and to cause rain 
 to fall upon lands which are under cultivation rather than upon 
 others, rather than upon sands and seas. Find from this com- 
 parison the fallacy in the arguments of the enemies of grace. 
 But do not quibble, pray. 
 
 ARISTES. I see what you mean, Theodore. Whether the 
 earth be cultivated or left sterile, it does not rain more or less 
 on that account. Usually it rains only in consequence of the 
 general laws of nature, in accordance with which God main- 
 tains the universe. In the same way the reason of the 
 distribution of grace is not derived from our natural merits. 
 God only bestows upon us the first gifts of grace, I mean those 
 whereby we are selected, in consequence of certain natural 
 laws.t For God does not act as men do, as particular causes 
 
 t Cf. Dialogue XII, Tyraité de la Nature et de la Grace, II, Réponse a la 
 Dissertation de M. Arnauld, Chs: VII, VIII, IX, X, XI, etc. 
 
246 NINTH DIALOGUE 
 
 and limited intellects. The reason of His choice comes from the 
 wisdom of His laws, and the wisdom of His laws from the relations 
 in which they stand to His attributes, from their simplicity, 
 their fruitfulness, their divinity. .The choice which God makes 
 of men in the distribution of His grace is thus reasonable and 
 perfectly worthy of the wisdom of God, though it is based neither 
 upon differences of nature nor upon inequality of merits. 
 
 THEODORE. You have accomplished your task, Aristes. Ina 
 few words you have upset the firmest basis of Pelagianism. A 
 man who should irrigate the sands or carry into the sea the water 
 which is needed for his field would not be wise. This is never- 
 theless what God does in consequence of His laws, and in doing 
 so He acts very wisely, divinely. This is sufficient to silence 
 those arrogant heretics who wish to teach God to make a wise 
 and reasonable selection amongst men. 
 
 Well, Theotimus, do you still fear that Aristes will fallinto the 
 precipice wherewith St. Augustine frightens, and with reason, those 
 who seek in their deserts the cause of their election? Aristes thinks 
 that the distribution of grace is purely gratuitous. We can be at 
 peace as far as he is concerned. Let us rather pity certain people 
 whom we know, who maintain that God chooses His elect out of 
 kindness to them, without wisdom and reason on His part; for it 
 is a horrible impiety to believe that God is not wise in the for- 
 mation of His designs as well as in theirexecution. Predestination 
 is gratuitous as far as we areconcerned. Grace is not distributed 
 according to our deserts, so St. Augustine maintains, following 
 St. Paul and the whole Church ; but it is regulated in accordance 
 with a law, from which God never departs. For God has formed 
 the design which involves the predestination of certain beings 
 rather than that of a number of others, because there is no design 
 wiser than this or worthier of His attributes. That is what 
 your friends cannot understand. 
 
 THEOTIMUS. What do you expect, Theodore? One naturally 
 falls into the trap of judging God by oneself. We all of us love 
 independence, and it is a kind of servitude for us to submit to 
 reason, a kind of impotence not to be able to do what it forbids. 
 Thus we are afraid of making God impotent in order to make 
 Him wise, but God is to Himself His own wisdom. The supreme 
 wisdom is eternal and consubstantial with Him. He loves it 
 necessarily ; and, though He is obliged to follow it, He yet remains 
 independent. All that God wills is wise and reasonable; not 
 
a oe 
 
 a 
 
 
 
 
 
 ON METAPHYSICS 247 
 
 that God is above reason, not that what He wills is just simply 
 and solely because He wills it, but because He cannot belie 
 Himself, because He cannot will anything which does not con- 
 form to law, to the immutable and necessary order of His divine 
 perfections. 
 
 THEODORE. Assuredly, Theotimus, it would mean to upset 
 everything to maintain that God is above reason, and that He 
 has no other rule in His designs than His will alone. This false 
 principle carries with it so profound an obscurity, that it con- 
 founds the good with the bad, the true with the erroneous, and 
 reduces all things to a chaos wherein the mind can no longer 
 know anything. St. Augustine has furnished irrefutable proofs 
 of the Fall based upon the disorders which we experience in 
 ourselves. Man suffers, therefore he is not innocent. The 
 mind depends upon the body, therefore man is corrupt; he 
 is no longer such as God has made him; God could not have 
 subjected the more to the less noble, because the order of things 
 does not permit it. What consequences these are for those who are 
 not afraid to say that God’s will is the sole rule of His actions ! 
 They can only reply that God has willed it thus; that it is our 
 self-love which makes us consider the pain we suffer an injustice ; 
 that it is our pride which is injured when it finds that the mind 
 is in subjection to the body; that since God has willed these 
 alleged disorders, it is an impiety to appeal to reason against 
 them, since the will of God does not recognise reason as the guide 
 of His action. According to this principle, the universe is 
 perfect, since it is the product of God’s will. Monstrosities are 
 productions completed just like the others according to God’s 
 designs. It is good to have our eyes at the top of our head, but 
 they would have been placed elsewhere with equal wisdom 
 if God had placed them elsewhere. Let the world be turned 
 upside down, let it be turned into a chaos, it will remain for 
 ever just as admirable, since its whole beauty consists in its 
 conformity to the Divine will, which is not itself obliged to 
 conform to order. But, then, this will is unknown to us. It 
 follows that all the beauty of the universe disappears if we 
 follow this grand principle that God is superior to the reason 
 which enlightens all minds, and His will alone is the sole rule of 
 His actions. 
 
 ARISTES. Ah, Theodore, how well all your principles are 
 linked together! I understand in addition, from what you 
 
248 NINTH DIALOGUE 
 
 have just said, that it is in God and in an immutable nature that 
 we see beauty, truth and justice, since we are not afraid to 
 criticise His work, to point out defects therein, and even to con- 
 clude that it is corrupt. The immutable order which we see 
 in part must be the law of God Himself, written upon His sub- 
 stance in eternal and divine characters, since we are not afraid 
 to judge His action by the knowledge which we have of this 
 law. We lay it down emphatically that man is not such as 
 God has made him, that his nature is corrupted, that God could 
 not when He created him have subjected his mind to his body. 
 Are we impious or fool-hardy to express opinions in this manner 
 as to what God ought or ought not to do? Not at all. We 
 should, on the contrary, be either impious or blind if we sus- 
 pended our judgment on these matters. For we do not judge 
 of God on our own authority, but on the supreme authority 
 of the divine law. 
 
 THEODORE. That is a reflection, my dear Aristes, worthy 
 of you. Do not forget, then, to study this law, since it is 
 from this sacred code of the immutable order that such important 
 conclusions can be derived. 
 
a 
 
 SS SS es 
 
 : 
 4 
 l 
 
 
 
 
 
 TENTH DIALOGUE 
 
 The magnificence of God in the greatness and infinite number of His different 
 works—The simplicity and fecundity of the ways in which He con- 
 serves them and develops them—The providence of God in the first 
 impression of movement which He communicated to matter—This 
 first action, which is not determined by general laws, is regulated 
 by an infinite wisdom. 
 
 THEOTIMUS. What do you think, Aristes, of the general prin- 
 ciples which Theodore put before us yesterday? Have youalways 
 followed them? Has not their generality, sublimity, dis- 
 couraged or fatigued you? For my part, I confess this to my 
 cost, I wanted to follow them, but they escaped me like phantoms, 
 so that I have given myself a great deal of useless trouble. 
 
 ARISTES. When a principle has nothing that can affect the 
 senses, it is very difficult to follow it and grasp it firmly. When 
 what one seizes has no body, what means are there for main- 
 taining a hold over it ? 
 
 THEOTIMUS. Quite naturally it is looked upon as a phantom, 
 for the mind being distracted, the principle vanishes, and one 
 finds to one’s surprise that nothing is left. We seize the prin- 
 ciple once again, but once more it escapes us. And though it 
 only escapes us when we close our eyes, as we often do without 
 being aware of the fact, we believe that it is the principle which 
 has vanished. That is why we look upon it as a phantom 
 deluding us. 
 
 ARISTES. That is true, Theotimus; it is, I believe, on this 
 account that general principles rather resemble chimeras, and that 
 the majority of people, who are not made for the work of atten- 
 tion, look upon them as chimerical. 
 
 THEOTIMUS. There is nevertheless a very great difference 
 between these two things, for general principles please the mind 
 which they enlighten by their clearness, whereas phantoms please 
 the. imagination, which indeed is responsible for their being. 
 
 And, although it seems that it is the mind which forms these prin- 
 249 
 
250 TENTH DIALOGUE 
 
 ciples, and generally all truths because they present themselves 
 to it in consequence of its attention, I think that you are well 
 aware that they are given to us, and that they do not derive 
 their reality from the efficacy of our own action, for all immut- 
 able truths are but relations subsisting between ideas, the 
 existence of which is necessary and eternal. But the phantoms 
 which the imagination produces, or which are produced in the 
 imagination as a natural result of the general laws of the con- 
 junction of soul and body, exist only for a time. 
 
 ARISTES. I believe, Theotimus, that nothing is more solid 
 than truth, and that the more general truths are, the more reality 
 and light they possess. Theodore has convinced me of this. 
 But I am so sensuous and gross that often I find no attraction 
 in them, and Iam sometimes tempted to abandon them altogether. 
 
 THEOTIMUS. You hear this, Theodore ? 
 
 THEODORE. You will do nothing of the kind, Aristes; truth 
 is of greater worth than onions and cabbages. It is an excellent 
 manna. 
 
 ARISTES. Quite excellent, I admit, but it sometimes appears 
 empty and of little solidity. It is not very much to my taste ; 
 and you want us to gather from it afresh day after day. That 
 is not too pleasant. 
 
 THEODORE. Well, Aristes, let us pass this day in the manne 
 in which the Jews do their Sabbath. Perhaps you did sufficient 
 work yesterday for two days. 
 
 Artistes. Assuredly, Theodore, I worked a good deal, but I 
 gained nothing. 
 
 THEODORE. Nevertheless, I left you quite busy drawing 
 conclusions. At the rate you were going on you ought to have 
 your two measures full of conclusions. 
 
 ARISTES. What measures? Two gomers?! Give to your 
 principles more body if you wish me to fill these measures ; make 
 them more tangible and palpable. They slip through my fingers ; 
 the slightest heat dissolves them, and after a good deal of work 
 I find that I have nothing. 
 
 THEODORE. You are benefiting, Aristes, without noticing the 
 fact. These principles which pass through the mind and yet 
 escape it always leave some vestige of light. 
 
 ARISTES. That is true. I know it quite well. But must I | 
 begin anew every day and leave behind my usual food? Could 
 
 ¢ Gomer or Omer, a Hebrew measure of capacity.—Tr. 
 

 
 a 
 
 eee pa 
 
 
 
 
 
 ON METAPHYSICS 251 
 
 you not make the principles of your philosophy more accessible 
 to the senses ? 
 
 THEODORE. Iam afraid, Aristes, that in doing so they would 
 become less intelligible. Believe me, I always make them as 
 tangible as possible. But I am afraid of corrupting them. It is 
 allowable to corporealise truth, in order to adapt it to our natural 
 weakness, and to sustain the attention of the mind which cannot 
 get agrip of that whichhas no body. Yet it is necessary that the 
 sensible should lead us to the intelligible, that the flesh should lead 
 us to reason, and that the truth should appear as it really is with- 
 out disguise. The information furnished by the senses is not 
 solid. Only the intelligible can through its evidence and light 
 supply food for intelligent minds. You know that is so. Try 
 to remember it and follow me. 
 
 ARISTES. Of what do you wish to speak ? 
 
 I. THEODORE. Of Providence in general, or of the ordinary 
 course of action which God adopts in the government of the 
 world. You have seen, Aristes, and perhaps even forgotten, that 
 the infinitely perfect Being, though self-sufficient, was able to 
 adopt the design of forming this universe ; that He created it for 
 Himself for the sake of His own glory ; that He has put Jesus 
 Christ at the head of His work, at the beginning of His designs 
 and ways, in order that all should be divine ; that He could not 
 undertake the most perfect world possible, but only the most 
 perfect that could be produced in the wisest and most divine 
 ways; so that any other work produced in any other way could 
 not express more exactly the perfections which God possesses and 
 in the possession of which He glories. Hence the Creator is, so to 
 speak, ready to come out of Himself, out of His eternal sanctuary, 
 ready to take the field by the production of creatures. Let us see 
 something of His magnificence in His work; but let us follow Him 
 closely in the majestic steps of His ordinary action. As to His 
 magnificence in His work, it shines forth from allsides. In what- 
 ever direction we may turn our eyes, we see a profusion of wonders. 
 
 -And if we cease to admire them it is because we cease to look 
 
 upon them with the attention they deserve, for the astronomers 
 who measure the magnitude of the planets, and who are eager 
 to know the number of the stars, are the more struck with ad- 
 miration the more they come to know about them. At one 
 time the sun appeared to them as great as the Peleponesus, 
 
252 TENTH DIALOGUE 
 
 but to-day the more expert among them think it a million times 
 larger than the earth. The ancients counted only a thousand and 
 twenty-two stars, but to-day no one dares to count them. God 
 indeed has told us that no man can ever number them! The 
 invention of telescopes compels us, however, to recognise that the 
 catalogues which we have of them are very imperfect. They 
 contain only those which can be discovered by the naked eye, that 
 is, of course, the smallest number. I believe even that there are 
 more than one will ever be able to render visible even by the aid 
 of the best telescopes, and meanwhile there is good ground for 
 believing that a very large proportion of these stars yield neither 
 in grandeur nor majesty to the vast body which to us on earth 
 appears the most luminous and most beautiful. How great then 
 God is in the heavens, how sublime in their depths, how mag- 
 nificent in their brilliance! how wise and powerful in the 
 regulation of their movements ! | 
 
 II. But, Aristes, let us leave the sublime. Our imagination 
 fails us in those immense spaces to which we dare not ascribe 
 limits, which yet we are afraid to leave without boundaries. 
 How great is the number of wonderful works upon the earth 
 which we inhabit,—upon this spot which is imperceptible to them 
 who measure only the celestial bodies! But this earth, which 
 our friends the astronomers think so little of, is still too vast 
 for me; I shut myselfup in your park. What flowers and fruit ! 
 The other day I was lying in the shade, and it occurred to me 
 to note the variety of herbs and small animals which I found 
 under my eyes. Without moving from my place, I counted 
 more than twenty kinds of insects in a very small space, and 
 at least as many different plants. I took hold of one of the 
 insects, the name of which I do not know, perhaps indeed it 
 had none; for the men who give diverse names, and often too 
 magnificent ones, to everything that comes from their hands 
 believe that they need not name those works of the Creator 
 which they have not learnt to admire. I took hold, I say, of 
 one of these insects, I examined it closely, and I do not hesitate 
 to say of it, what Jesus Christ said of the lilies of the field, that 
 Solomon in all his glory was not arrayed as one of these. After 
 having admired for some time this little creature, which is so 
 unjustly despised, and indeed so unworthily and cruelly treated 
 by the other animals to whom apparently it serves as food, I 
 
 
 
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 ON METAPHYSICS 253 
 
 began to read a book which I had with me, and I found therein a 
 very astounding thing, namely, that there is in the world an infinite 
 number of insects at least a million times smaller than the one 
 I had just been examining, fifty thousand times smaller than 
 a grain of sand. 
 
 Do you know, Aristes, what a “‘toise’’is ? I mean the standard 
 of measurement employed by people who wish to indicate the 
 smallness or, if you wish, the largeness of these living atoms ; 
 for though they are small in relation to us, they do not on that 
 account cease to be large as compared with others. The standard 
 I refer to is the diameter of the eye of these small domestic animals 
 which have annoyed men so much that they have been forced 
 to honour them with a name. It is by aid of this standard, 
 but reduced to feet and inches, for, taken as a whole, it is too big, 
 it is, I say, by aid of the parts of this new standard, that these 
 observers of the curiosities of nature measure the insects which 
 are found in liquids, and of which they prove, by means of geo- 
 metrical principles, that an infinite number can be found which 
 are a thousand times smaller at least than the eye of an ordinary 
 louse. Let not this standard shock you, it is one of the most 
 exact and most common. This little animal has made itself 
 sufficiently well known, and so can be found at all seasons. 
 These philosophers are very glad that the facts they put before 
 us can be verified at any time, and that people are able to appre- 
 ciate with certainty the multiplicity and delicacy of the wonderful 
 works of the author of the universe. 
 
 ARISTES. This rather surprises me; but pray tell me, Theodore, 
 are those animals which are imperceptible to the eye and almost 
 like atoms even under good microscopes the smallest? May there 
 not be many others which will for ever escape the ingenuity 
 of men? Perhaps the smallest which have as yet been seen 
 are to those which never will be seen as the elephant to the gnat. 
 What do you think of that ? 
 
 THEODORE. We are lost, Aristes, in the realm of the small, 
 just as we are in that of the great. There is no one who can 
 claim to have discovered the smallest animal. At one time 
 this was taken to be the midge, but to-day the little midge 
 has become prodigious in its size. The more our microscopes 
 are perfected, the more convinced do we become that the small- 
 ness of matter imposes no limit upon the wisdom of the Creator, 
 
 t Lettre de M. Leeuwenhoeck a M. Wren. 
 
254 TENTH DIALOGUE 
 
 that out of nothing, so to speak, out of an atom which is not 
 accessible to our senses, He produces works which transcend 
 our imagination, and which are beyond even the vastest intellect. 
 I am going to explain this to you. 
 
 III. When one is quite convinced, Aristes, that this variety 
 and this succession of beautiful things which adorn the universe 
 is but a consequence of the general laws of the communication 
 of motion, which can all be reduced to the simple and natural 
 law, that bodies in motion, or when impelled, move always in 
 the direction of least resistance, and that they will always move 
 with the velocity which is reciprocally proportional to their 
 masses, provided the energy remains unaltered; when, I say, 
 one is convinced that all the figures and modifications of matter 
 have no other cause than movement, that all communication of 
 motion takes place according to a law, so natural and simple that 
 it seems as though nature acted only out of a blind impetuosity, 
 one understands clearly that it is not the earth which produces 
 plants, and that it is not possible that the union of the two sexes 
 should produce a work so wonderful as the body of an animal. 
 One can very well believe that the general laws of the com- 
 munication of motion are sufficient to develop and cause the 
 growth of organic bodies, but one can never persuade oneself 
 that they could produce so complicated a machine. We see quite 
 well, that, if we do not wish to have recourse to an extraordinary 
 Providence, we are bound to believe that the germ of a plant 
 contains in miniature the plant which it engenders, and that the 
 animal contains in its organs the creature that will come out 
 of it. We understand even that it is necessary that every seed 
 should contain the whole species which it can produce, that every 
 grain of corn, for example, contains in miniature the ear which it 
 will eventually produce, every grain of which in its turn contains 
 its ear, all the grains of which again can always be just as fruitful 
 as those of the first ear. Assuredly, it is not possible that the 
 bare laws of motion could adjust to one another and in relation 
 to certain ends an almost infinite number of organic parts which 
 constitute what is called an animal or plant. It is much, 
 that these simple and general laws should suffice to cause the 
 silent growth and the appearance in their due time of all these 
 wonderful works of God formed in the first days of the creation 
 of the world. Not that the small animal or the germ of the 
 
 
 
 
 

 
 ON METAPHYSICS 255 
 
 plant has between all its parts precisely the same proportion of 
 size andsolidity and figure as the animals and plants; but that all 
 the parts which are essential for the mechanism of animals and 
 plants are so wisely arranged in their germs that in the course 
 of time and in consequence of the general laws of motion they 
 are bound to assume the figure and form which we observe in 
 them. Grant this: 
 
 IV. And reflect, Aristes, that a fly has as many organic parts 
 as, or perhaps more than, a horse or an ox. A horse has but 
 four feet, a fly has six, and in addition it has wings of a wonderful 
 structure. You know how the head of an ox is formed. Look 
 then one day at the head of a fly through the microscope and 
 compare the one with the other; you will see quite well that I 
 am not imposing upon you. Remember once more that a cow 
 yields but two calves a year, and that a fly yields a swarm con- 
 taining more than a thousand flies; for the smaller animals are 
 the more prolific they are. And you are aware, perhaps, that at 
 present bees have no longer a king that they honour, but only 
 a queen that they make much of, and that alone produces an 
 entire swarm. ‘Try, then, to imagine the amazing smallness, 
 the wonderful delicacy of all the bees, and of the thousands 
 of organised bodies which the mother bee carries within its 
 ovary. And although your imagination staggers at the thought, 
 do not think that a fly is made out of a grub without being con- 
 tained therein, nor the grub out of an egg, for that is inconceivable. 
 
 ARISTES. Since matter is infinitely divisible, I understand 
 quite well that God could make in the realm of the small all 
 that we see in that of the great. I have heard that a Dutch 
 scientist 7 has discovered a method enabling one to see in the 
 chrysalis of a caterpillar the butterflies which are to come out 
 ofit. I have often seen in the middle of winter bulbs containing 
 entire tulips with all the parts which they have in the spring, 
 Thus I am quite willing to grant that all seeds contain a plant 
 and all eggs an animal similar to that out of which they came. 
 
 V. THEODORE. You have not got far as yet. It is about 
 six thousand years since the world was made, and bees have 
 been producing swarms. Let us suppose that these swarms 
 
 : According to M. Swammerdam, one bee produces about four thousand. 
 2 Swammerdam, Histoire des Insectes. 
 
256 TENTH DIALOGUE 
 
 are each a thousand in number. The first bee must, therefore, 
 have been a thousand times larger than the second, and the second 
 a thousand times larger than the third, and the third a thousand 
 times larger than the fourth, and so on, diminishing regularly 
 down to asix-thousandth, in the progression of a thousand to one. 
 That is clear from our hypothesis, since that which contains 
 is larger than that which is contained. Realise, then, if you 
 can the wonderfully delicate structure which contained, in the 
 first bee, all those of the year 1687. 
 
 ARISTES. That is quite easy. One need only find the exact 
 values of the last term of a progression, whose common ratio 
 is a thousandth carried to six thousand terms, and the first of 
 which stands for the value of the natural size of a honey-bee. 
 The bees of this year were in the beginning of the world a thousand 
 times smaller, nay, Theodore, five thousand nine hundred and 
 ninety-seven thousand times smaller. That is their exact size 
 if we grant your assumptions. 
 
 THEODORE. I understand you, Aristes. In order to express 
 the relation between the natural size of the bee and the size 
 which the bees of 1687 had in the beginning of the world, granting 
 that it is six thousand years since they were created, it is only 
 necessary to write down a fraction, having unity for its numerator 
 and unity also for denominator, but only accompanied by 
 eighteen thousand ciphers. What a nice fraction! But are you 
 not afraid that a unity broken up and shattered so much will 
 fade away, and that your bee will come to resemble nothing at all ? 
 
 ARISTES. No, not at all, Theodore. For I know that matter 
 is infinitely divisible, and small and great are purely relative 
 terms. I see without difficulty, though my imagination shrinks 
 therefrom, that since what we call an atom can be divided 
 indefinitely, any part of extension is in a sense infinitely great, 
 and that God can do in the realm of the small all that we see in 
 that of the great in the world which we wonder at. Yes, the 
 smallness of bodies can never arrest the divine power; I can see 
 this clearly, for geometry teaches us that there is no unity in 
 extension, and that matter can be eternally divided. 
 
 THEODORE. That is all right, Aristes. You can see, then, 
 that if the world has endured several thousands of centuries, 
 God was able to preform within a single bee all those bees which 
 were to come out of it, and to adjust the simple laws of the 
 communication of movement in such a wise manner to the 
 
ON METAPHYSICS 257 
 
 design which He had of making them increase insensibly and of 
 producing them each year that their species could never die out. 
 What structures of wonderful delicacy are hidden in so small 
 a portion of space as is filled by the body of a single bee! For 
 without prophesying about the uncertain duration of the world, 
 it is about six thousand years since bees have been putting forth 
 their swarms. How many bees, then, do you think did the first 
 bee which God created, assuming that He only created one, carry 
 within its ovary, in order to be able to supply bees up to the 
 present time ? 
 
 ARISTES. That can be easily calculated, certain assumptions 
 being made. How many females, do you think, does each mother- 
 bee yield in each swarm? There is only this and the number 
 of years to be determined. 
 
 THEODORE. Do not linger over this calculation. It is too 
 easy! But apply, in due proportion, what you have just found 
 in reference to bees to an almost infinite number of other animals. 
 Judge by means of it of the number and the delicacy of the plants 
 which existed in miniature in the first plants, and which every 
 year unfold themselves in order to reveal themselves to mankind. 
 
 VI. THEoTIMus. Let usleave all these speculations, Theodore. 
 God supplies us with an abundance of works at our very doors 
 without our having to go to those which we cannot see. There 
 is not an animal or plant which does not sufficiently indicate 
 by its wonderful construction that the wisdom of the Creator 
 is infinitely beyond our comprehension. And He produces them 
 year by year with such profusion that His magnificence and 
 grandeur ought to impress and astonish the most stupid of men. 
 Without going beyond ourselves, we find in our own bodies 
 a machine made up of a thousand springs, and all so wisely 
 adjusted to their end, so well connected with and subordinated 
 to one another, that this alone is sufficient to humble us and 
 prostrate us before the author of our being. I have not long 
 since read a book about the movements of animals which deserves 
 consideration.t The author examines with care the plan of the 
 machine which is necessary for locomotion. He explains in an 
 exact manner the strength of the muscles, and the reasons for 
 their various positions—all according to the principles of geometry 
 and mechanics. But, although he only deals with what is most 
 
 t Borelli, De Motu Animalium. 
 17 
 
258 TENTH DIALOGUE 
 
 easily discovered in the animal mechanism, he makes us recognise 
 so much skill and wisdom in Him who made it that he fills the 
 mind of the reader with admiration and surprise. 
 
 ARISTES. It is true, Theotimus, that the anatomy of the 
 human body alone, or of the most despised of animals, gives so 
 much light to the mind and strikes it so vividly that one must 
 be senseless not to recognise its author. 
 
 VII. THEODORE. You are both nght. But as for me, what 
 I find most wonderful is the fact that God forms all these 
 excellent works, or at least makes them grow and develop 
 before our eyes, by following exactly certain general, simple and 
 very fertile laws, which He has prescribed to Himself. I do 
 not admire the trees covered with fruits and flowers so much as 
 their marvellous growth in consequence of natural. laws. A 
 gardener takes an old rope, rubs it with a fig, and buries it in 
 a furrow, and some time afterwards I see that all those little 
 seeds which we feel in our teeth when we eat figs have pierced 
 the earth, and have pushed forth on one side roots and on another 
 a nursery of fig-trees. That is what I wonder at. To irrigate 
 the fields in consequence of natural laws and with a little water 
 to cause entire forests to spring forth from the earth; an animal 
 to conjoin itself. brutishly and mechanically with another, and 
 thereby to perpetuate its species ; a fish to follow its female and 
 to fertilise the eggs which she loses in the water; a field ravaged 
 by hail to be in a short time rejuvenated, covered with plants 
 and the usual wealth; by aid of the wind to transport grains 
 from distant countnes and through the rain to spread them over 
 those which have been desolated—all these are an infinity of 
 effects produced by the simple and natural law that all bodies 
 should move in the direction of least resistance, and that assuredly 
 is something one cannot sufficiently admire. Nothing is more 
 beautiful, nothing more magnificent in the universe than this 
 profusion of animals and plants such as we have recognised. 
 But, believe me, nothing is more divine than the way in which 
 God fills the world, than the use which God knows how to make 
 of a law which is so simple that it seems to be good for nothing. 
 
 ARISTES. JI am of your opinion, Theodore. Let us leave it 
 to the astronomers to measure the magnitude and the motions 
 of the stars for the purpose of predicting eclipses. Let us leave 
 it to anatomists to dissect the bodies of animals and plants so 
 
ON METAPHYSICS 259 
 
 as to find out the mechanism and the relations of the parts. 
 In a word, let us leave it to the natural philosophers to study 
 the detail of nature, in order to admire all its marvels. Let us 
 deal mainly with the general truths of your metaphysics. We 
 have, it seems to me, sufficiently discovered the magnificence 
 of the Creator in the infinite multiplicity of His marvellous works. 
 Let us follow Him a little in the measures which He adopts in the 
 course of His procedure. 
 
 VIII. THEODORE. You will admire much more than you 
 do all the parts of the universe, or rather the infinite wisdom 
 of its author, when you will have considered the general laws 
 of Providence. For when one examines the work of God without 
 any regard to the ways of its construction and maintenance, 
 what a number of defects stare us in the face, and often disturb 
 the minds even of philosophers so much that they look upon 
 this wonderful work either as the necessary effect of a blind 
 nature or as a monstrous mixture of good and bad creations, 
 which owe their being to a good and an evil God respectively. But 
 when one compares it with the ways in which God must govern it, 
 in order to make His action bear the character of His attributes, 
 all these defects which disfigure the creation do not fall to the 
 account of the Creator, for if there are any defects in His work, 
 if there are monstrosities and thousands upon thousands of dis- 
 orders, nothing is more certain than that there are none in His 
 course of action. You have already seen that this is the case, 
 but I must try to make you understand it better. 
 
 IX. Do you still remember what I have demonstrated to 
 you! that there is a contradiction in supposing that a created 
 thing can move a bit of straw by its own efficacy ? 
 
 ARISTES. Yes, Theodore. I remember your demonstration 
 quite well and am convinced of its truth. The Creator of matter 
 alone can be its mover. 
 
 THEODORE. The Creator alone, therefore, can effect any 
 change in the material world, since all the possible modifications 
 of matter consist but in the sensible or insensible figures of its 
 parts, and all these figures have no other causes than motion. 
 
 ARISTES. I do not quite understand what you are saying now. 
 I suspect a surprise. 
 THEODORE, I have proved to you,? Anistes, that matter and 
 t Dialogue VII. a Dialogues I, 2; III, 11, 12. 
 
260 TENTH DIALOGUE 
 
 extension are one and the same; remember this. It is upon 
 this assumption, or rather upon this truth, that I base my argu- 
 ment, for nothing but extension is necessary for the production 
 of a material world, or at least of a world quite similar to the 
 one we inhabit. If you do not agree with me so far, it will 
 be of no avail to proceed. 
 
 ARISTES. I remember quite well that you have proved to 
 me that extension is a being or substance and not a modifi- 
 cation of substance, for the reason that we can think of it with- 
 out thinking of any other thing. For, in truth, it is evident 
 that whatever can be thought of in itself is not a mode of being 
 but a being or substance. In this way alone can substances 
 be distinguished from their modifications. I am convinced of 
 this. But may not matter be a substance other than extension ? 
 This idea keeps on recurring to my mind. 
 
 THEODORE. The terms are different, but not the things in- 
 dicated by them, providing that by matter you understand that 
 whereof the world which we inhabit is composed. For assuredly 
 it is composed of extension, and I do not take you to be maintain- 
 ing that it is composed of two substances. One of them would 
 be useless, and I think that this would be yours, for I do not see 
 how anything solid could be made out of it. How could one, 
 Aristes, make a writing-desk, or chairs, or any furniture out of 
 your matter? Such furniture would be rare and precious indeed. 
 But give me extension, and there is nothing which I could not 
 make out of it by the aid of motion. 
 
 ARISTES. That is just the point that I do not understand so 
 well. 
 
 X. THEODORE. Nevertheless, it is quite easy, provided we 
 judge of things by the ideas which represent them, and are not 
 misled by the prejudices of the senses. Think, Aristes, of an in- 
 definite extension. If between all the parts of this extension there 
 subsisted the same relation of distance, we should have nothing 
 but a huge mass of matter. But if any motion enters into it, 
 and its parts keep on ceaselessly changing position in relation 
 to one another, an infinity of forms is introduced, I mean an 
 infinity of figures and configurations. By figure I understand 
 the form of a body sufficiently large to make itself perceptible, 
 by configuration the figure of the insensible particles of which 
 large bodies are made up. 
 
ON METAPHYSICS 261 
 
 ARISTES. Yes, we get thus all sorts of figures and configura- 
 tions. Yet still we do not perhaps get in this way all the differ- 
 ent bodies which we see. The bodies you make out of your 
 extension alone differ only accidentally ; but most of the bodies 
 that we see differ perhaps essentially. Earth is not water, a 
 stone is not bread. But it seems to me that out of your extension 
 alone you could only make bodies of the same kind. 
 
 THEODORE. The prejudices of the senses confuse you once 
 more, Aristes. Astone is not bread, that istrue. But pray tell me, 
 is flourcorn? Is bread flour? Our blood, flesh, bones, are they 
 bread or grass? Are these bodies of the same or different species ? 
 
 ARISTES. Why do you ask me this? Who does not see that 
 bread, flesh, bones, are essentially different bodies ? 
 
 THEODORE. It is out of corn that one makes flour, out of 
 flour bread, and out of bread flesh and bones. Throughout 
 it is the same matter. If, despite all this, you think that all 
 these bodies differ in kind, why do you not think that out of the 
 same extension bodies essentially different could be produced ? 
 
 ARISTES. Because your figures and configurations are acci- 
 dental to matter and do not change its nature. 
 
 THEODORE. It is true, matter remains ever the same 
 whatever figure be given to it; but it may be said that a round 
 body is different in kind from a square one. 
 
 ARISTES. What! If I take some wax and change its figure, 
 will it not remain the same wax ? 
 
 THEODORE. It will be the same wax, the same matter; but 
 one might say it will not be the same body, for assuredly what is 
 round is not square. Let us have done with equivocations. For 
 a round body it is essential that all the parts of its surface should 
 be equally distant from the part constituting its centre, but 
 it is not essential that its inner or insensible particles should 
 have any given configuration ; in the same way it is essential for 
 the wax that the small particles of which it is composed should 
 have a certain configuration, but it is not changed whatever 
 figure one gives to its mass. Finally, it is essential for matter 
 to be extended, but it is not essential for it either to have any 
 particular figure in its mass, or any particular configuration 
 in the insensible particles of which it is composed. Observe, 
 then, what happens to the corn when it passes through the 
 mill ? What happens to the flour when it has been ground and 
 baked ? It is clear that a change has taken place in the positions 
 
262 TENTH DIALOGUE 
 
 and configurations of the insensible particles, as well as in the 
 figure of the mass as a whole; and I cannot see how there 
 could come about a change which was more essential. 
 
 XI. ARISTES. It is maintained, Theodore, that over and 
 above this change there supervenes a substantial form. 
 
 THEODORE. I am well aware that that is what is maintained. 
 But I cannot see anything that is more accidental to matter 
 than this chimera! What change can it bring about in the 
 corn which one grinds ? 
 
 ARISTES. Merely the change which causes it to become flour. 
 
 THEODORE. What! Cannot corn which has been well ground 
 be reduced to flour without that ? 
 
 ARISTES. It may be perhaps that flour and corn do not differ 
 essentially. They are perhaps two bodies of the same kind. 
 
 THEODORE. And flour and dough, are they also the same 
 kind? Observe then! Dough is nothing but flour and water 
 well mixed together. Do you think that one could not make dough 
 by thorough kneading without the aid of a substantial form ? 
 
 ARISTES. Yes; but without such form bread cannot be made. 
 
 THEODORE. A substantial form, then, it is which transforms 
 the dough into bread. Let us see. When is it that the form 
 is added to the dough ? 
 
 ARISTES. When the bread is baked, well baked. 
 
 THEODORE. That is so; for doughy bread is not, strictly 
 speaking, bread. The latter has as yet no other substantial 
 form than that of corn or of flour or dough; for these three 
 bodies are of the same kind or species. But if the substantial 
 form failed to supervene, would well-baked dough not be bread ? 
 Now, it does not receive this form until the dough is baked. 
 Let us try then to eliminate it. After all it is very difficult 
 to seize it on account of the potency of its matter! One does 
 not know how to set about it. 
 
 ARISTES. I see quite well, Theodore, that you want to amuse 
 yourself; but let it not be at my expense, for I assure you I have 
 always looked upon these assumed forms as figments of the 
 human imagination. Tell me, rather, how it is that so many 
 people have come to believe in this doctrine. 
 
 THEODORE. Because the senses lead us to such a view quite 
 naturally. As we experience essentially different sensations on 
 the presence of sensible objects, we are induced to believe that 
 
ON METAPHYSICS 263 
 
 these objects differ in essence. And this is true in a sense; for 
 the configuration of the invisible particles of wax are essentially 
 different from those of water. But as we do not see these small 
 particles, their configuration, their difference from one another, 
 we conclude that the masses which they constitute are substances 
 of different kinds. Now, experience teaches us that in all bodies 
 there is a common substratum, since they can be produced out 
 of one another. We conclude, therefore, that there is something 
 which is responsible for their specific difference; and it is this 
 characteristic which we attribute to the substantial form. 
 
 XII. Artistes, I see, Theodore, quite well that the great 
 principle which you proved to me long ago in our previous 
 talks! is indeed necessary, namely, that we must not judge 
 of the nature of bodies by the sensations which they excite in us, 
 but only by the idea which represents them, and in accordance 
 with which they have been formed. Our senses are false witnesses, 
 to which we must not listen except as compelled by facts. 
 They give us but confused information as to the relation sub- 
 sisting between the bodies of our environment and our own, 
 sufficient indeed for the preservation of life, but having nothing 
 accurate in their testimony. Let us always follow this principle. 
 
 THEODORE. Let us follow it, Aristes, and comprehend that 
 all the modifications of extension are and can only be modifi- 
 cations of figures, configurations, movements, whether sensible or 
 not—in a word, nothing but relations of distance. An indefinite 
 extension without movement, without change in the relation 
 of distance between its parts, would be nothing but a huge mass 
 of unformed matter. Let motion be introduced into this mass, 
 and move its particles in an infinite number of ways, and we have 
 an infinite number of different bodies, For observe, it is impossible 
 that all the parts of this extension should change their relations 
 of distance in an equal manner with regard to all the other parts ; 
 it is on this account that we can understand how the parts 
 of extension move, and that we can discover therein an infinity 
 of different figures or bodies. Since your head, for example 
 persists as it does in the same relation of distance to your 
 neck and the other parts of your body, all these make up but 
 one body. But as the particles of the air surrounding you move 
 in different ways upon your face and upon the remainder of your 
 
 1 Dialogues III, IV, V. 
 
264 TENTH DIALOGUE »- 
 
 organism, this air is not one with your body. Consider each 
 particle of the fibres in your body and remember that the relation 
 of distance which subsists between any determinate particle and 
 any given neighbouring particle does not change at all or but little, 
 and that the relation of distance subsisting between it and a 
 number of certain of its other neighbouring particles keeps on 
 changing incessantly, and you will thus construct an infinity of 
 small channels in which the humours circulate. Any given particle 
 of the fibres of your hand does not move away from another neigh- 
 bouring particle of the same fibres, but it ceaselessly changes its 
 position in relation to the animal spirits, the blood, the humours, 
 and the infinite number of small bodies which come into touch 
 with it in passing, and which continually escape through the pores 
 which the intertwining of our fibres leavesin the flesh. It is this 
 which makes any given part precisely what itis. Consider then all 
 the particles of which such fibre is composed. Compare them with 
 one another and with the fluid humours of your body, and you will 
 see without any difficulty what I wish to make you comprehend. 
 
 ARISTES. I follow you, Theodore. Assuredly nothing is 
 clearer than that all the possible modifications of extension are 
 only relations of distance, and that it is only through the 
 variety of motion and rest of the particles of matter that this 
 variety of different figures and bodies is brought about which 
 we admire in the world. When one judges of objects by the 
 sensations which one has of them, one finds oneself strangely em- 
 barrassed at every moment, for one often has essentially different 
 sensations of the same object and similar sensations of quite 
 different objects. The testimony of the senses is always obscure 
 and confused. It is necessary to judge of all things by the ideas 
 which represent their nature. If I consult my senses, snow, hail, 
 rain, vapour are bodies differing in kind. But by consulting the 
 clear and luminous idea of extension I see quite well, it seems to 
 me, that a little motion can reduce ice to water, and even to 
 vapour, without changing the configurations of the small particles 
 of which these bodies are composed. I see even that by changing 
 their configuration there is nothing that could not be made out 
 of them, for since bodies differ essentially only in the size, con- 
 figuration, motion, and rest, of the insensible particles of which 
 their masses are composed, it is evident that in order to make 
 gold, for example, out of lead, or whatever else you please, it is 
 necessary only to divide or rather to join the small particles of the 
 
ON METAPHYSICS 265 
 
 lead and to give them the size and configuration essential to the 
 small particles of gold, or which cause a given matter to be gold. 
 This can be seen without difficulty. Yet I believe, nevertheless, 
 that those who look for the philosopher’s stone will sooner reduce 
 their gold to ashes or smoke than make any new gold. 
 
 THEODORE. That is true, Aristes, for who knows the size and 
 configuration of the small particles of this choice metal? And 
 assume this to be known, who can tell the configuration of the 
 small parts of lead or quicksilver? But let us even assume that 
 instead of working blindly and at haphazard, they know that these 
 particles of quicksilver, combined in a certain way, will produce 
 exactly one of those small particles of which gold is made up: I defy 
 them to combine these particles so accurately as to produce even 
 one particle resembling those of gold. Assuredly the subtle matter 
 which finds its way everywhere will prevent them from combining 
 them accurately. They may perhaps fix the mercury, but so 
 badly, so imperfectly, that it will not feel the fire without evapor- 
 ating into vapour. Let them even succeed in fixing it in sucha 
 way as to render experimentation possible, what will itendin ? A 
 new metal, more beautiful than gold I grant, but perhaps looked 
 down upon. The particles of the quicksilver will be combined in the 
 proportion of 4 to 4,5 to 5, 6 to 6, but unfortunately it was neces- 
 sary that they should be in the proportion of 3 to 3. They will 
 be combined in one way instead of in another. <A vacuum will 
 be left between them which will cause its weight to decrease, 
 and which will give it a colour which will be disliked. Bodies, 
 Aristes, can easily be transformed into others when it is not 
 necessary that the configuration of theirinsensible particles should 
 be changed. Vapours are easily transformed into rain, because 
 for this purpose it is sufficient that they should diminish their 
 motion, and that several of them should be joined together im- 
 perfectly. And for a similar reason only a cold wind is necessary 
 to harden rain into hail. Yet in order to change water into any 
 of those things which are needful for plants, it is necessary to have 
 in addition to motion, without which nothing can be done, moulds 
 made expressly for fixing in a certain way this fluid matter. 
 
 THEOTIMUS. Well now, Theodore, why do you linger over 
 this point? You wanted to speak of Providence, and you 
 embark upon questions of physics. 
 
 THEODORE. I thank you, Theotimus. Perhaps I was wander- 
 ing from the point. Nevertheless, it seems to me that all that 
 
266 TENTH DIALOGUE 
 
 we have just been saying is not far removed from our subject. It 
 was necessary that Aristes should understand that it is through 
 motion that bodies change as regards figure in their mass, 
 and as regards configuration in their insensible particles. It was 
 necessary, so to speak, to make him feel this truth, and I think 
 that what we have just said may serve for this purpose. Let us 
 come, then, to Providence. 
 
 XIII. It is assuredly through the sun that God animates 
 the world which we inhabit. It is through the sun that He raises 
 vapours. Itis through the movement of vapours that He produces 
 winds. It is through the crossing of the winds that He gathers 
 together the vapours and resolves them again into rain, and it 
 is through rain that He renders our earth fruitful. Whether this 
 is so, or whether it is not exactly as I have told you, is, Artistes, 
 a question of no importance. You believe, for example, that the 
 rain causes the grass to grow, for if it does not rain everything is 
 parched. You believe that a certain herb has the power of purging, 
 another of nourishing, another still of poisoning ; that fire softens 
 wax, and hardens clay, that it burns wood and reduces a part to 
 ashes, and finally into glass. In a word, you do not doubt that 
 all these bodies have certain qualities or virtues, and that the 
 ordinary providence of God consists in the application of these 
 virtues, by means of which He produces the variety which we 
 admire in His work. Now, these virtues, just as the application of 
 them, consist only in the efficacy of movement, since it is through 
 movement alone that everything is effected; for it is evident 
 that fire burns only through the movement of its particles, that 
 it has the power of hardening clay only because those particles 
 which it diffuses in all directions meeting the water which is 
 in the earth drive it away through the movement which they 
 communicate to it, and similarly with regard to the other effects. 
 Fire, then, has force or virtue only through the movement of its 
 particles, and the application of this force to a given object comes 
 only from the movement which has brought the object near the 
 fire. In the same way. | 
 
 ARISTES. What ks are ssagiris with regard to fire I exten 
 to all natural causes and effects. 
 
 XIV. THEODORE. You see, then, that ordinary Providence 
 resolves itself mainly into two things: into laws of the com- 
 
ON METAPHYSICS 267 
 
 munication of movement, since everything in bodies is effected 
 by means of movement, and into the wise combination which 
 God has contrived in the order of His productions at the time 
 of their creation, that His work should be preserved by the 
 natural laws which He has resolved to follow. 
 
 With regard to the natural laws of movement, God has chosen 
 the simplest ones. He has willed and wills now that every body 
 in motion should move or tend to move in a straight line, that 
 when it encounters other bodies it should be diverted from the 
 straight line as little as possible, that every body should be carried 
 in the direction in which it is impelled, and that if it is impelled at 
 the same time by movements of contrary direction, the stronger 
 movement shall have the victory over the weaker one, but 
 that if these two movements are not contrary, it should move in 
 a line which is the diagonal of a parallelogram, the sides of which 
 stand to one another in the same proportion as these movements. 
 In a word, God has chosen the simplest law on the basis of the 
 unique principle that the stronger shall conquer the weaker; 
 and, subject to this condition, that there shall always be in the 
 world the same quantity of motion. I add the condition because 
 experience teaches us that the motion which animates matter 
 is not dissipated in time through the clashing of bodies coming 
 from different directions, and besides that, God being immutable in 
 His nature, the more uniformity one ascribes to His actions, 
 the more does one make His procedure bear the character of His 
 attributes. 
 
 It is not necessary, Aristes, to enter more fully into the details 
 of those natural laws which God follows in the ordinary course of 
 His providence. Let them be whatever you please, it matters 
 little. You know quite certainly that God alone sets bodies in 
 motion, that He accomplishes everything in them by means of 
 motion, that He only communicates motion from one body to 
 another according to certain laws, whatever those laws may be, 
 and that the application of such laws comes from the encounter 
 of bodies. You know that collision of bodies is in consequence 
 of their impenetrability, the occasional or natural cause which 
 determines the efficacy of the general laws. You know that 
 ' God acts always in a simple and uniform way, that a body in 
 motion goes straight, and that impenetrability compels the moving 
 body to change, but that nevertheless it changes as little as 
 possible, whether because it always follows the same laws or 
 
268 TENTH DIALOGUE 
 
 because the laws which it follows are the simplest of any. This 
 is sufficient so far as the general laws of the communication of 
 movement are concerned. Let us come now to the formation 
 of the universe, and to the wise combination which God has 
 effected between all the parts at the time of the creation for all 
 generations, and by reference to these general laws, for it is 
 this which is so marvellous in the divine Providence. Follow 
 me, please. 
 
 XV. I am thinking, Aristes, of a mass of matter without 
 any movement. So far it is a mere block. I wish to make a 
 statue out of it. A little motion will soon produce it, for let 
 the superfluous matter be removed which, when at rest, formed 
 one body with it, and our task is done. I wish this statue to 
 have not merely the figure of a man, but also the organs and all 
 the parts which we do not see. A little motion will form them, 
 for let the matter around that piece of matter out of which I 
 wish, for example, to make the heart move, the other parts re- 
 maining at rest, and it will cease to be one body with the heart. 
 Thus, then, the heart is formed. In the same way I can obtain, 
 in idea, all the other organs, such as I conceive them to be. This 
 is evident. Finally, I not only wish my statue to have the organs 
 of the human body, but I also wish that the mass of which it is 
 made should be transformed into flesh and bones, animal spirits, 
 and blood, brain, etc. Once more a little movement will satisfy 
 my demand; for, granting that flesh consists of fibres of a certain 
 configuration intertwined in a certain way, if the matter which 
 fills the spaces between the fibres were to begin moving or were to 
 have no longer the same relation of distance as that of which the 
 fibres are composed, we should obtain flesh; and in the same way, 
 with a little motion, the blood, the animal spirits, the bloodvessels, 
 and all the rest of the human body can be produced. But what 
 is infinitely beyond the capacity of the human mind is to know 
 which parts are to be moved, which are to be taken away, and 
 which left. Let us suppose now that I want to take a very small 
 portion of matter out of the mechanism thus resembling ours and 
 to give it to a certain figure, organs, and any configuration of 
 parts I please, all this can be effected by means of movement, and 
 cannot be executed except by means of movement. For it is 
 evident that a part of matter which is one with another can only 
 be detached by means of movement. Thus I conceive, without 
 

 
 ON METAPHYSICS 269 
 
 difficulty, that in a human body God can make another one, 
 of the same kind a thousand or ten thousand times smaller, 
 and in this one yet another, and so on in the same proportion 
 of a thousand or ten thousand to one, and all this at once by 
 communicating an infinity of different movements of which 
 He alone is cognisant to the infinitesimal particles of a certain mass 
 of matter. 
 
 ARISTES. What you are saying then with regard to the human 
 body can be easily applied to the organic bodies of all animals 
 and plants. 
 
 XVI. THEODORE. Very well, then, Aristes. Conceive, how- 
 ever, an indefinite mass of matter as large as the universe out of 
 which God wills to make a beautiful world, but one which will 
 endure and whose beauties will be preserved and perpetuated 
 after their kind. How will He set about it? Will He just 
 move the parts of matter in haphazard fashion, and then gradually 
 construct the world out of them, by following certain laws, or will 
 He construct it all at once? Be careful. The infinitely perfect 
 Being knows all the consequences of all the movements which 
 He can communicate to matter, whatever you may suppose the 
 laws of the communication of movement to be. 
 
 ARISTES. It seems to me clear that God will not move matter 
 to no purpose; and, since the first impression which He com- 
 municates to the parts is sufficient to produce all sorts of results, 
 assuredly He would not think of forming them little by little 
 by means of a number of useless movements. 
 
 THEOTIMUS. But what will become of the general laws of the 
 communication of movement, if God does not make use of them ? 
 
 ARISTES. That rather embarrasses me. 
 
 THEODORE. What is your difficulty? These laws as yet 
 lead to nothing, or rather indeed have no being; for it is the 
 impact of bodies which is the occasional cause of the laws of 
 the communication of movements. Now, without an occasional 
 cause there can be no general law. Hence before God had set 
 matter in motion, before bodies could impel one another, God 
 did not have to, and was not able to, follow the general laws 
 of the communication of movements. Moreover, God only follows 
 general laws in order to render His action uniform, and to 
 make it bear the character of His immutability. Thus, the first 
 step of this procedure, the first movements, cannot and ought not 
 
270 TENTH DIALOGUE 
 
 to be determined by these laws. Finally, an infinity of general 
 laws would be necessary (which means that they would hardly 
 be general) in order that He should be able by following them 
 to form the organic bodies of animals and plants. Thus, since 
 the first impression which God gave to matter ought not, and 
 could not, have been regulated in accordance with general laws, 
 it had to be regulated solely by reference to the beauty of the 
 work which God willed to form and which He was to preserve 
 in the course of time in consequence of general laws. Now, this 
 first impression of motion wisely distributed was sufficient for 
 the production by means of one act of animals and plants which 
 are the most excellent works which God has made out of matter, 
 and all the rest of the universe. This is evident, since bodies differ 
 from one another only by the figure of their masses and by the 
 configuration of their particles, and since a little motion can bring 
 all this about, as you have just now granted. You were, therefore, 
 right, Aristes, in saying that God made out of each mass of matter 
 whatever He willed to make out of it in one act. For though 
 God made the parts of the universe one after another as we seem 
 to be taught in Scripture, it does not follow that He took any 
 time, and followed certain general laws, in order to bring them 
 gradually to perfection. Dixit et facta sunt. The first impression 
 of movement was sufficient to produce them in an instant. 
 
 XVII. THEoTImus. This being so, I see that it is waste of 
 time to wish to explain the history with which Scripture furnishes 
 us of the creation by means of Cartesian principles or by any 
 other principles resembling them. 
 
 THEODORE. Certainly one is mistaken if one claims to prove 
 that God created the world by following certain general laws 
 of the communication of movement; but one does not waste 
 one’s time if one seeks to ascertain what must happen to 
 matter in consequence of the laws of motion. And for this 
 reason. Though God made each part of the universe in one act, 
 He had yet to pay attention to the laws of nature which He 
 willed constantly to follow in order to make His action bear 
 the character of His attributes. For assuredly His work could 
 not have been preserved in its beauty if He had not adapted 
 it to the laws of motion. A square sun could not have endured 
 so long; a sun without light would soon have become quite 
 brilliant. You have read M. Descartes’ Physics, Theotimus, and 
 
 
 

 
 ON METAPHYSICS 271 
 
 you, Aristes, will read it some day, for it is well worth while. It 
 is, therefore, not necessary for me to explain this more fully. 
 One ought, however, to examine what this first impression of 
 motion must have been by the aid of which God formed the 
 whole universe in one act for a certain number of centuries. 
 For this is the point of view, so to speak, from which I wish to 
 make you see and admire the infinite wisdom of Providence in 
 the arrangement of matter. 
 
 But I am afraid lest your imagination, perhaps already tired, 
 on account of the too abstract things we have just spoken about, 
 will not leave you sufficient power of attention to contemplate 
 so vast a subject ; for, Aristes, how great is the wisdom which 
 the first step of God’s procedure, the first impression of movement, 
 involves! What relations, what combinations of relations ! 
 Certainly, God knew clearly before this first impression all 
 the consequences and all the combination of consequences, 
 not merely all the physical combinations, but all the com- 
 binations of the physical with the moral, and all the 
 combinations of the natural with the supernatural. He com- 
 pared with one another all these consequences with all the 
 consequences of all possible combinations on all sorts of 
 suppositions. He made all these comparisons, I say, in His 
 aim to produce the most excellent work, in the simplest, wisest, 
 most divine ways. He neglected nothing that could make His 
 action bear the character of His attributes; and it was this which 
 without hesitation determined Him to take the first step. Try 
 to see, Aristes, whither this first step led. Observe how a 
 grain of matter driven at first to the right instead of to the left, 
 driven with a degree of force more or less great, was able to change 
 everything in the physical, the moral, yea, even the supernatural 
 spheres! Think, then, of the infinite wisdom of Him who com- 
 pared and regulated all things so well, that since the first step 
 which He took He orders everything for its end, and goes along 
 majestically, immutably, even divinely, without ever repenting, 
 up to the time when He takes possession of the spiritual temple 
 which He constructed through Jesus Christ, and to which He 
 directs all the steps of His procedure. 
 
 AristEs. Truly, Theodore, you are right in concluding our 
 discussion, for we should soon be lost in so vast a subject. 
 
 THEODORE. Think of it, Aristes, because to-morrow we shall 
 have to deal with it. 
 
272 TENTH DIALOGUE 
 
 ARISTES. If we embark upon this ocean, we shall perish. 
 
 THEODORE. No, we shall not perish, provided we do not 
 desert the vessel which is to carry us. Let us remain inthe Church, 
 always submitting to its authority; if we knock lightly against 
 the rocks, we shall not suffer shipwreck. Man is made to adore 
 God in the wisdom of His action. Let us try to lose our- 
 selves happily in its depths. The human mind is never better 
 occupied than when in enforced silence it adores the divine 
 perfections. But this silence of the soul can come to us only 
 after contemplating what is beyond us. Courage then, Aristes ! 
 Contemplate, admire the general providence of the Creator. 
 I have placed you at a point of view from which you ought to 
 discover an incomprehensible wisdom. 
 

 
 ELEVENTH DIALOGUE 
 
 The same subject continued—General Providence in the arrangement of 
 bodies and the infinitely infinite combinations of the physical with 
 the moral, of the natural with the supernatural. 
 
 THEODORE. Have you, Aristes, made any attempt to compare 
 the first impression of movement which God communicated to 
 matter, the first of His proceedings in the universe, with the general 
 laws of His ordinary providence, and with the various works which 
 were to be preserved and developed through the efficacy of those 
 laws ? For it is from this first impression of movement that 
 we must consider God’s action ; that is, from the point of view 
 of general Providence; for God never repents, never belies His 
 own nature. Have you looked, then, from this point of view upon 
 the beautiful order of created beings and upon the simple and 
 uniform action of the Creator ? 
 
 ARISTES. Yes, Theodore, but my view is too short. I have 
 discovered a good deal of land, but withal so confusedly that 
 I do not know what to say to you. You have raised me to 
 heights too high for me. One makes discoveries from a distance, 
 but one does not know what one sees. You have lifted me, so 
 to speak, above the clouds, and I am dizzy when I look down. 
 
 THEODORE. Ah well, Aristes, let us come down a little. 
 
 THEOTIMUS. But too low down we shall see nothing. 
 
 ARISTES. I beg of you, Theodore, a little more detail. 
 
 THEODORE. Let us descend, Theotimus, since Aristes desires 
 it. But let none of us three forget our point of view; for 
 it will be necessary to ascend as soon as our imagination has 
 been a little reassured and strengthened by some details nearer 
 to the senses and more within our reach. 
 
 I. Recall to mind, Aristes, the bees we spoke about yesterday. 
 This little animal is a wonderful piece of work. How many 
 different organs, what order, what connections, what relations 
 
 18 273 
 
274 ELEVENTH DIALOGUE 
 
 between all the parts! Do not imagine that it has less parts 
 than the elephant. Apparently it has more. Comprehend, then, 
 if you can, the number and the marvellous interplay of all the 
 contrivances of this little mechanism. It is the feeble action 
 of light which frees these contrivances ; it is the mere pressure 
 of objects which determines and regulates all their movements. 
 Judge, then, from the construction of these small animals formed 
 with such accuracy, finished with such diligence, not of their 
 wisdom and foresight, for they have none, but of the wisdom and 
 foresight of Him who has gathered together so many contrivances 
 and has arranged them with such wisdom in relation to so many 
 diverse objects andso many different ends. Assuredly, Aristes, 
 you would be wiser than any philosopher that ever lived if you 
 knew exactly the reasons of the construction of the parts of 
 this little animal. 
 
 ARISTES. I believe it, Theodore. That is already more than 
 we can grasp. But if such great skill and such profound 
 intelligence are needed for the formation of a simple fly, how 
 marvellous is then the production of an infinite number of them 
 contained within one another and consequently decreasing 
 constantly in size in geometrical progression whose common 
 ratio is a thousandth, since one of them produces a thousand, 
 and that which contains is greater than that which is contained ? 
 This staggers the imagination, but let the intellect recognise the 
 wisdom of the author of so many wonderful things ! 
 
 THEODORE. Why, Aristes? If the small bees are of the 
 Same organic structure as the large ones, whoever conceives a 
 large one can conceive an infinite number of them contained 
 in one another. It is, then, only the multiplicity and the small 
 size of these closely similar animals which ought to increase 
 your admiration for the wisdom of the Creator. But your 
 imagination is struck with wonder when it sees on a small 
 scale what it has been accustomed to see only on a large scale. 
 
 ARISTES. I thought, Theodore, that I could not have too 
 much admiration. 
 
 THEODORE. Yes, but one should admire for good reasons. 
 Do not fear; if admiration pleases you, you will find enough 
 scope for it in the multiplicity and smallness of these bees 
 contained in one another. 
 
 ARISTES. How so then ? 
 
 THEODORE. Because they are-not all alike. 
 

 
 ON METAPHYSICS 275 
 
 ARISTES. I thought so myself; for what evidence is there to 
 show that the grubs of these flies and the eggs of these grubs 
 have aS many organs as the flies themselves, as you assert 
 they have? 
 
 II. THEODORE. But you are wrong, Aristes, for, quite on the 
 contrary, the grubs have all the organic parts which flies have, 
 yet they have in addition those which are essential to grubs, 
 that is to say, those which are absolutely necessary to render them 
 able to seek, devour, and prepare the nourishing juice of the 
 fly which they carry with them and which they preserve through 
 the instrumentality of the organs and under the form of a grub. 
 
 ARISTES. Indeed! According to this way of looking at the 
 matter grubs are more wonderful than flies; they have more 
 organic parts. 
 
 THEODORE. Yes, Aristes, and the eggs of the grubs are 
 more wonderful than the grubs themselves, and so on all along 
 the line. So that the flies of this year had more organs a thousand 
 years ago than they have at present. There is a strange paradox 
 for you! But observe, it is easily seen that the laws of the 
 communication of motion are too simple for the construction 
 of organic bodies. 
 
 ARISTES. That is true,asit appears to me. Itisa great deal 
 if those laws are sufficient to explain their growth. There are 
 people who maintain that insects come from putrefied objects. 
 But if a fly has as many organic parts as an ox, I should prefer 
 saying that this big animal can be made out of clay to main- 
 taining that flies are generated out of rotten flesh. 
 
 THEODORE. You are right. But since the laws of move- 
 ment are not enough to account for the construction of complex 
 bodies, possessing an infinite number of organic parts, it follows 
 necessarily that flies are contained in the grubs out of which they 
 spring. Do not, however, Aristes, imagine that the bee, when 
 as yet in the grub from which it is to come forth, has the same 
 proportions of size, solidity and configuration between its parts 
 as it has when it has come forth, for it has often been noted 
 that a chick’s head, for example, when within the egg and when 
 it appears under the form of a grub is much larger than the rest 
 of the body, and that the bones acquire consistence later than 
 the other parts. I maintain merely that all the organic parts of 
 bees are formed in their grub stage, and are so well adapted to the 
 
276 ELEVENTH DIALOGUE 
 
 laws of motion that through their own construction and the 
 efficacy of these laws they can grow, without God intervening 
 again, so to speak, by an extraordinary providence ; for it is in 
 this that the incomprehensible wisdom of the divine providence 
 consists. It is this alone which can justify the frequent genera- 
 tion of monstrosities, for God may not perform a miracle in 
 order to prevent their coming to be. At the time of the Creation 
 He constructed animals and plants for all future generations ; He 
 laid down the laws of motion which were necessary to make them 
 grow. Now He rests, for all He has to do is to follow these laws. 
 
 ARISTES. What wisdom there is in the general providence of 
 the Creator! 
 
 THEODORE. Would you like us to ascend a little to a 
 point of view whence we can make a survey of the marvels of 
 Providence ? 
 
 ARISTES. I am there already, it seems to me, Theodore. I 
 admire and adore with all the respect of which I am capable 
 the infinite wisdom of the Creator in the variety and incom- 
 prehensible accuracy of the different motions which He has once 
 for all communicated to this small portion of matter, within which 
 He has formed in one stroke bees for all generations—nay, why 
 do I say bees ? an infinity of grubs which may be looked upon 
 as animals of a different species, and has supplied them within 
 so small a portion of space with non-sensuous food in thousands 
 of ways which are altogether beyond us; all this by reference to 
 the laws of motion, laws so simple and so natural that, although 
 God does everything in the ordinary course of His providence 
 by their means, it seems as though He never touches anything, 
 never intervenes anywhere—in a word, that He is at rest. 
 
 THEODORE. You find then, Aristes, that this procedure is 
 divine, and more excellent than that of a God who were to act at 
 all moments by means of particular volitions, instead of following 
 such general laws; or who, in order to free Himself from the 
 care of governing His work, were to give souls to all flies, or rather 
 intelligences sufficiently enlightened to form their bodies, or at 
 least to guide them according to their needs and to regulate all 
 their work ? 
 
 ARISTES. What a comparison ! 
 
 III, THEODORE. Courage then, Aristes. Cast your glance 
 further still. At the moment when God gave the first impression 
 

 
 ON METAPHYSICS 277 
 
 of movement to the parts of this small portion of matter out of 
 which He made bees, or any other insect you please, for all 
 generations to come, do you think He foresaw that a certain 
 one of these animals which was to be born in a certain year 
 was on a certain day, a certain hour and under certain circum- 
 stances, to direct its eyes to someone with the object of a vicious 
 passion, or imprudently to put itself in the nostrils of a horse 
 and cause this horse to make a movement fatal to the best Prince 
 of the world who will thereby be thrown and killed—a tragic 
 death, and involving an infinity of sad consequences ; or, in order 
 not to combine the physical with the moral, for this involves 
 difficulties the solution of which depends upon certain principles 
 which I have not yet explained, do you think that God foresaw 
 that this insect was through a particular movement to produce 
 something monstrous and irregular in the purely material world ? 
 ARISTES. Who can doubt that God foresaw all the con- 
 sequences of this first impression of motion, which in an instant 
 gave rise to a whole species of a particular insect? He even 
 foresaw in a general way all the consequences of the infinite 
 and quite different movements which He could have communi- 
 cated to this same portion of matter. He foresaw in addition all 
 the consequences of all the combinations of this portion of 
 matter with all the others and their different movements on 
 the assumption of every possible kind of general laws. 
 THEODORE. Admire, then, Aristes, adore the depth of the 
 wisdom of God who has thus regulated this first impression of 
 movement given to such a small portion of matter, after an infinite 
 number of comparisons of relations, all laid down by an eternal 
 act of His intelligence. From this portion of matter pass to 
 another and from it to a third, traverse the whole universe, and 
 in one comprehensive glance judge of the wisdom infinitely 
 infinite which has regulated the first impression of movement 
 through which the whole universe was formed in all its parts and 
 for all time ; formed, too, in such a manner that it is assuredly 
 the most beautiful work that could be produced by the most 
 general and the simplest means; formed in such a manner, rather, 
 that the work and the means should express the perfections which 
 God possesses, and in the possession of which He is glorified better 
 than in that of any other work produced in any other way. 
 ARISTES. What an abyss! what immeasurable depths! 
 What a number of relations and combinations of relations He 
 
278 ELEVENTH DIALOGUE 
 
 had to consider in the first impression of matter in order to 
 create the universe, and to adapt it to the general laws of motion 
 which God follows in the ordinary course of His providence! 
 You have brought me veritably to a point from which one can 
 discern the infinite wisdom of the Creator. 
 THEODORE. Do you know, Aristes, that you see nothing as yet ? 
 ARISTES. How nothing? 
 
 IV. THEODORE. Much, no doubt, Aristes; but this is as 
 nothing when compared with the rest. You have glanced over 
 the infinitely infinite combinations of the movements of matter. 
 But combine the physical with the moral, the movements of 
 the body with the volitions of angels and of men. Combine in 
 addition the natural with the supernatural, and bring all this 
 in relation with Jesus Christ and His Church, for since the latter 
 is the principal of God’s designs, it is not likely that in the first 
 impression which God communicated to matter He should have 
 neglected to regulate His action in accordance with the relation 
 which such movements would have with His great and main work. 
 Realise, then, with what wisdom it was necessary to regulate the 
 first movements of matter, if it be true that the order of nature 
 is subordinate to that of grace, if it be true that death overtakes 
 us now in consequence of natural laws, and that there is nothing 
 miraculous in a man finding himself crushed when a horse falls 
 upon him, for you know it is upon the happy or unhappy moment 
 of death that our eternity depends. 
 
 ARISTES. Gently, Theodore. It is God who regulates this 
 moment. Our death depends upon Him. God alone can bestow 
 upon us the gift of preservation. 
 
 V. THEODORE. Who doubts it? Our death depends upon 
 God in several ways. It depends upon God because it depends 
 upon us; for it is in our power to leave a house which threatens 
 ruin, and it is God who has given us the power. It depends 
 upon God because it depends upon His angels, for God has given 
 to the angels power and has entrusted them with the commission 
 of governing the world, or the external side, so to speak, of His 
 Church. Our happy death depends upon God because it depends 
 upon Jesus Christ, for God has given us in Jesus Christ a chief 
 who watches over us, and who will not allow death to overtake 
 us unhappily if we beseech Him in a fitting manner for the gift 
 of continuance. But do you not think that our death also 
 

 
 ON METAPHYSICS 279 
 
 depends on God in this sense that He has regulated and produced 
 that first impression of movement, one of the results of which 
 is that a certain house shall collapse at a certain time and under 
 certain circumstances ? Everything depends upon God, because 
 it is He who has established all causes, free as well as necessary, 
 and because His foresight is so great that He makes use of the 
 former as happily as of the latter, for God has not communicated 
 His power to minds at haphazard ; He did so only after having 
 foreseen all the consequences of their movements as well as 
 those of matter. Moreover, everything depends upon God, 
 because all causes can act only through the efficacy of the 
 divine power. Finally, everything depends upon God because 
 He can interrupt by means of miracles 'the ordinary course of 
 His providence, and because He never fails to do so when the 
 immutable order of His perfections requires it, I mean when 
 what He owes to His immutability is of less importance than 
 what He owes to His other attributes. But we shall explain 
 all this with greater precision in the sequel. Understand then, 
 Aristes, that our safety is already assured in the interconnection 
 of causes, free as well as necessary, and that all the effects of 
 general Providence are so linked together that the smallest 
 movement of matter may in consequence of general laws coincide 
 with an infinity of considerable events, and that each event 
 depends upon an infinity of subordinate causes. Admire, then, 
 once again the profundity of God’s wisdom, who before taking 
 the first step certainly compared the first movements of matter 
 not only with all the natural or necessary consequences, but 
 for still stronger reasons with all the moral and supernatural 
 consequences, on all possible assumptions. 
 
 ArIsTEs. Assuredly, Theodore, from this point of view I dis- 
 cern a wisdom which has no limits. I understand clearly and 
 distinctly that general Providence bears the character of an 
 infinite intelligence, and that it is incomprehensible quite in 
 another way than those who never examine it imagine. A 
 Providence based on an absolute will is less worthy of the 
 infinitely perfect Being; it bears in a lesser degree the character 
 of the divine attributes than that which is regulated by the 
 inexhaustible treasures of wisdom and foresight. 
 
 VI, THEODORE, That is what I wanted you to see, Let us 
 come down now to some details, in order to refresh your mind, 
 
280 ELEVENTH DIALOGUE 
 
 and in order to render accessible to your senses a portion of the 
 things which you have just conceived. Have you never amused 
 yourself by feeding in a box some caterpillar or other small 
 insect which is commonly believed to undergo a transformation 
 into a butterfly or fly ? 
 
 ARISTES. Oh, Theodore! all at once you descend from the 
 great to the small. You keep on coming back to insects. 
 
 THEODORE. I do so because I am very glad that we should 
 be admiring what everybody despises. 
 
 ARISTES. When I was a child I remember finding silkworms. 
 I took a delight in watching them making their cocoons and 
 burying themselves alive in them, only to revive after a while. 
 
 THEOTIMUS. And I, Theodore, have at present in a box 
 full of sand an insect which amuses me, and the history of which 
 I know to some extent. Its Latin name is formtca leo (ant-lion). 
 It transforms itself into one of those kinds of flies which have 
 long bellies, and which are called, I think, demoiselles. 
 
 THEODORE. I know what you are referring to, Theotimus, 
 but you are mistaken in believing that it transforms itself into 
 a demoiselle. 
 
 THEOTIMUS. I have seen it, Theodore; this fact is estab- 
 lished. 
 
 THEODORE. And the other day, Theotimus, I saw a mole 
 being transformed into a blackbird. In what way do you think 
 does one animal become transformed into another? This is 
 as difficult as the formation of insects out of a little putrid 
 flesh. 
 
 TuHEOTIMUS. I understand you, Theodore; the formica leo 
 does not transform itself, but merely strips itself of its garb and 
 arms ; it casts its horns with the aid of which it makes holes and 
 seizes the ants which fall therein. In fact, I have noticed these 
 horns in the burrow, which the insects make for themselves in the 
 sand, and from which they come out no longer in the character 
 of a formica leo, but in that of a demoiselle, or in a form more 
 magnificent. 
 
 THEODORE. Quite so. The formica leo and the demoiselle 
 are not, properly speaking, two animals differing in kind: the 
 first contains the second, or all the organic parts of which 
 it is made up; but observe, that it possesses in addition what 
 it needs for seizing its prey, obtaining food for itself, and pre- 
 paring for the other a fitting nourishment. Let us now try 
 
ee 
 
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 tox... a eee ae 
 
 ON METAPHYSICS 281 
 
 to picture to ourselves the mechanism which is necessary for 
 the movements accomplished by this little animal. It moves 
 backwards in a spiral line, burying itself all the while in the sand, 
 so that, throwing back the sand which it takes up with its horns 
 at every one of its movements, it makes a conical burrow at 
 the bottom of which it hides itself, its horns open and are 
 ready to seize ants and other animals which cannot keep their 
 hold when on the brink of the burrow. When the prey escapes 
 it and makes sufficient effort to cause it to apprehend its loss, it 
 overwhelms it and crushes it by throwing sand upon it, and 
 through this means makes the sides of the burrow more steep. 
 Then it seizes the prey, draws it under the sand, sucks its blood ; 
 and, taking it between its horns, throws it away as far as possible 
 from the burrow. Finally, it constructs for itself, in the finest and 
 most mobile sand, a perfectly round tomb, decorates it very nicely 
 in preparation for its death, or rather for resting at ease, and 
 finally after a few weeks it is seen coming out in all its new glory 
 and in the shape of a demoiselle, after having thrown off the 
 several coverings and skins of the formica leo. Now, how many 
 organic parts are necessary for these movements ? How many 
 vessels are needed to carry the blood upon which the formica leo 
 and its demoiselle feed? It is clearthen that this animal, having 
 stripped itself of all these parts in its tomb, has a much smaller 
 number of organs when it appears under the form of a fly than 
 when it is seen under that of a formica leo, unless one should 
 be inclined to maintain that organs can be formed and adapted 
 to one another in consequence of the laws of movement. For 
 to suppose that God has commissioned some intelligence to 
 provide for the needs of these insects and preserve their species 
 and always to form new ones out of these would be to humanise 
 the divine Providence and to make it bear the character of a 
 limited intelligence. 
 
 ARISTES. Assuredly, Theodore, there is a greater diversity of 
 organs in the formica leo than in the fly, and for the same reason 
 in the silkworm than in the butterfly, for these worms also strip 
 themselves of many skins, because they give up a sort of head, a 
 large number of feet, and all the other organs required for 
 searching, devouring, directing and distributing the food adapted 
 for grubs and butterflies. Similarly I see that there is more 
 art in the eggs of grubs than in the grubs themselves, for, 
 granted that the organic parts of grubs are in the egg, as you 
 
282 ELEVENTH DIALOGUE 
 
 say, it is clear that the whole egg involves more art than does 
 the grub alone, and so on ad infinitum. 
 
 THEODORE. I wish you had read M. Malpighi’s book on 
 the silkworm, and what he has written about the formation of 
 a chick within the egg.t You would see perhaps that what 
 I am telling you is not without foundation. Yes, Aristes, the 
 egg is the work of an infinite intelligence. Men do not find 
 anything in the egg of the silkworm, and in the egg of a hen 
 all they see is the white and yolk and perhaps the chalaze or 
 knots; yet they take them for the germ of the chick. But. . 
 
 ARISTES. What! the germ of the chick! Are you referring 
 to what one finds immediately on opening an egg, which is white 
 and somewhat hard and rather unpleasant to eat? 
 
 THEODORE. No, Aristes; it is one of the knots which serves 
 to keep the yolk suspended in the white in such a manner that 
 in whatever way the egg be turned that side of the yolk which 
 is the least heavy, or where the chick is, should always be upright 
 against the warm breast of the hen. There are two of these 
 knots which are attached on one side to the point of the egg 
 and on the other to the yolk, one at each end. 
 
 ARISTES. What a wonderful mechanism ! 
 
 THEODORE. In this there is not much intelligence. But 
 you can see from this that more art and skill is required for 
 the formation of an egg and all that it contains than of a mere 
 chick, since the egg contains the chick, and has in addition its 
 own particular structure. 
 
 VII. Conceive then now, if you can, I beg of you, what ought 
 to be at present the construction of the organs of the egg or of 
 the grubs which are to be butterflies six thousand years hence 
 in consequence of the laws of motion. Admire, too, the variety 
 of the organs of all the grubs and all the eggs which are contained 
 in one another for all this time. Try to picture to yourself 
 what the food could have been upon which the grubs and 
 butterflies of to-day fed six thousand years ago. There is a 
 great difference between the form of a demoiselle and that of 
 a formica leo, but perhaps there is an equally great difference 
 between the /formica leo and the egg which contains it and so 
 on. The silkworm feeds upon the leaves of the mulberry-tree, 
 but the small grub contained within the egg feeds upon noe ; 
 
 t De Bombyce. 
 

 
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 ena nn 
 
 er re 
 
 re ee ga ey ee ae 
 
 ST OF ee ee 
 
 SE ens Sw ee 
 
 ie ie 
 
 ON METAPHYSICS 283 
 
 it has near it all that it needs. It is true that it does not 
 always eat, but it maintains itself without eating, and it has 
 been maintaining itself for six thousand years. It is looked 
 upon as strange when certain animals spend the winter with- 
 out any food. How marvellous isit, then, that silkworms should 
 husband theirs so exactly, and that it should not fail them except 
 when they are strong enough to break through their prison wall, 
 and when the mulberry-trees have put forth tender leaves where- 
 upon they can feed anew! 
 
 How wonderful is Providence in having enclosed, for example, 
 within the eggs from which the chicks are hatched all that is 
 needed to make them grow and even to feed them during the first 
 days after they are hatched! For, as they do not yet know 
 how to eat, and drop all that they peck up, the yolk of the egg, 
 a half of which is not used up, and which remains in their stomach, 
 feeds them and strengthens them. But this same Providence 
 is seen even better in the neglected eggs which insects drop 
 everywhere. It is necessary either that the hen should hatch 
 its eggs itself, or that the industry of man should come to the 
 rescue ; but even if the insects’ eggs are not hatched, the insects 
 do not fail to come out very successfully. The sun through its 
 heat stimulates them, so to speak, to devour their food at the 
 same time as it prepares fresh food for them, and as soon as 
 the grubs have broken through their prison walls they find them- 
 selves in an abundance, in the midst of young buds or tender 
 leaves adapted to their needs. The insect to which they owe 
 their birth has taken care to put them into a place suited for them, 
 and has left the rest to the more general order of Providence. 
 One insect lays its eggs underneath a folded leaf, attached to a 
 branch, for fear that it might fall down in the winter; another 
 fixes them in a safe place near their food; the demoiselle formica 
 leo hides them in the sand, sheltered from the rain; most of them 
 drop them in the water. Ina word, they all put them in places 
 where they can have their wants provided, not through any par- 
 ticular intelligence which guides them, but as a result of the 
 arrangement of the parts making up their mechanism, and in 
 consequence of the general laws of the communication of motion. 
 
 ARISTES. It is incomprehensible. 
 
 THEODORE. Quite true; but it is well to understand 
 clearly that the providence of God is absolutely incompre- 
 hensible. 
 
284 ELEVENTH DIALOGUE 
 
 VIII. THEotTimus. I must tell you of an experiment which I 
 have made. One day in the summer I took a small piece of meat, 
 put it in a bottle, and covered it with a piece of silk. I observed 
 that various flies came and laid their eggs or their grubs on the 
 silk, and that as soon as they were hatched they gnawed through 
 the silk and dropped upon the meat, which they devoured in a 
 short time. As, however, this smelt badly I threw it all away. 
 
 THEODORE. In this way flies come from that which is putre- 
 fied. They lay their eggs or grubs on meat and forthwith fly 
 away ; the worms feed on it and the meat gets putrid. When 
 these grubs have gorged themselves they enter into their cocoons 
 and come out as flies, and on this ground most men believe that 
 insects come from that which is putrefied. 
 
 THEOTIMUS. What you say is certain; for I have several 
 times put some meat upon which no flies had yet been into a 
 hermetically sealed flask, and I have never found any grubs in it. 
 
 ARISTES. But how is it that so many large grubs are to be 
 found in all kinds of fruits ? 
 
 THEODORE. They are full grown when we find them, but they 
 were small when they came into the fruit. Search thoroughly 
 and you will discoversome little hole or scar in the skin. But let 
 us not dwell any longer upon the proofs which are furnished 
 to show that these animaJs owe their origin to putrefaction, 
 for these proofs are so weak that they do not deserve 
 refutation. Mice are found in newly made vessels or in a 
 place where previously there were none. Hence it follows 
 that this animal must have been generated out of matter 
 in a state of putrefaction, as though these animals were for- 
 bidden to attend to their wants during the night, and to pass 
 over the planks and over the ropes into boats, and from them 
 into the large ships, or as though the vessels would not be built 
 elsewhere than on the waterside! JI cannot understand how 
 so many people of good sense can fall into so gross and palp- 
 able an error on such slender evidence ; for what can be more in- 
 comprehensible than that an animal should be formed by nature 
 out of putrefied flesh? It is infinitely easier to conceive that 
 a bit of rusty iron might be transformed into a perfect watch; 
 for there are infinitely more contrivances and more delicate ones 
 in a mouse than in the most complicated timepiece. 
 
 ARISTES. Assuredly, we cannot comprehend how a machine 
 which is composed of an infinite number of different organs, 
 
Matai St = ee ee a ee a 
 
 Le ee en cae a ee nna a i 
 
 
 
 ODP oS 
 
 $e 
 
 fea. 
 
 ON METAPHYSICS 285 
 
 perfectly well adapted to one another and intended for different 
 ends, can be the effect of the simple and natural laws that all 
 bodies must move in the line of least resistance; for this law is 
 much more calculated to destroy the machine than to produce 
 it. Neither can we comprehend how animals of the same species, 
 following one another in regular succession, could all be contained 
 in the first of them. 
 
 THEODORE. If one does not understand how this can be, one 
 understands at least that it is not impossible, since matter is 
 infinitely divisible; but one will never understand how the laws 
 of movement can produce bodies made up of an infinite number 
 of organs. One finds it sufficiently difficult to conceive how these 
 laws can bring about their growth little by little. What one does 
 see quite well is that the laws in question can destroy them ina 
 thousand different ways. One cannot see how the union of the two 
 sexes can be the cause of pregnancy; but one can understand that 
 this is not impossible on the assumption that the bodies are 
 already formed. But that this union should be the cause of the 
 organisation of the parts of the animal and of a particular animal, 
 it seems to me one can see quite well is not possible. 
 
 ARISTES. I have heard, nevertheless, that M. Descartes had 
 begun a treatise on the formation of the foetus, in which he 
 attempted to explain how an animal can be formed from the 
 mingling of the semen of the two sexes. 
 
 THEODORE. The rough sketch given by this philosopher 
 may help us to understand how the laws of motion are sufficient 
 to bring about the gradual growth of the parts of an animal. 
 But that these laws should form such parts and link them together 
 issomething that no one will ever prove. Apparently M. Descartes 
 recognised this himself, for he did not press his ingenious con- 
 jectures very far. 
 
 ARISTES. His undertaking was somewhat bold. 
 
 THEODORE. Very bold, if he intended to give an account 
 of the construction of animals, as God has made them; for 
 they have an infinite number of appliances which he ought 
 to have known before looking for the causes of their formation. 
 But apparently he did not think of this; for he would not be 
 wise who should seek to explain exactly how a watchmaker makes 
 a watch without knowing beforehand of what parts this watch 
 is composed. 
 
 ARISTES. This philosopher would, perhaps, have done better 
 
286 ELEVENTH DIALOGUE 
 
 to explain the generation of plants rather than that of animals 
 by means of the laws of motion. 
 
 IX. THEODORE. Bynomeans. The undertaking would have 
 been equally impossible. If the seeds did not contain in miniature 
 what we see on a large scale in plants, general laws could never 
 render them fertile. 
 
 ARISTES. Plantsin the seeds, an apple-tree in a kernel! One 
 always finds it rather difficult to believe these things, though 
 one knows quite well that matter is infinitely divisible. 
 
 THEOTIMUS. I have made an experiment which has con- 
 tributed a good deal to convince me of it. Not that I believe, 
 by any means, that, for example, the apple-tree which is in the 
 germ of the kernel has the same proportions of magnitude and 
 other qualities between its branches, leaves and fruits as large 
 trees have; and assuredly Theodore does not maintain this 
 either. I maintain merely that all the organic parts of the 
 apple-tree are so formed and so well adapted to the laws of motion 
 that through their own construction and the efficacy of these laws 
 they can grow without the aid of a particular providence. 
 
 ARISTES. I understand your opinion quite well. Tell us 
 about your experiment. 
 
 TueEotimus. I took, Aristes, about a score of the largest 
 beans. I opened two or three, and I noticed that they were made 
 up inside of two parts easily separable from one another, and 
 which I found are called its cotyledons (or lobes) ; that the germ 
 was attached to both of these lobes; that on one side it ended in 
 a point tending outwards, and that on the other it was hidden 
 between the lobes. That is what I saw at first. I sowed the 
 other beans so as to make them germinate and to see how they 
 grew. Two days afterwards I began to dig them up. I continued 
 for fifteen days, and I noticed distinctly that the root was con- 
 tained in that part of the germ which tends outwards and which 
 ends in a point; that the plant was contained in that part of 
 the germ which passes between the two lobes ; that the root was 
 itself a plant which had its roots in the substance of the two 
 lobes of the bean from which it derived its food; that when it 
 sprouted into the earth as plants do in the air, it abundantly 
 furnished to the plant the necessary juice; that the plant as 
 it grew passed between the lobes, which, after having contributed 
 to the growth of the root, changed into leaves and protected the 
 
Se 
 
 a 
 
 ST GR a a ee 
 
 ON METAPHYSICS 287 
 
 plant from being injured by the air. In this way I convinced 
 myself that the germ of the bean contained the root of the plant 
 and the plant itself, and that the lobes of the bean were the 
 store in which this small plant had already been sown and already 
 had its roots. Take, Aristes, some of these large beans which 
 are eaten in the beginning of the summer; open them gently; 
 and examine them carefully. Without a microscope you will see 
 to some extent what I have just been telling you. You will 
 soon discover the first leaves of the plant in that small part of the 
 germ folded up between the two lobes.! 
 
 ARISTES. I am ready to believe allthis. But that this seed 
 contains the plant which we may see in twenty years is some- 
 thing which it is difficult to imagine, and which your experi- 
 ment does not prove. 
 
 THEOTIMUS. That is true; but we already see that the plant 
 is in the seed, we see even without the aid of a microscope that 
 even in the winter the tulip isin the bulb. We cannot at present 
 see in the seed all the parts of the plant. Well, Aristes, we must 
 try to imagine them. We cannot imagine how the plants which 
 will appear twenty years hence are in the seed. We must 
 try to conceive it; at least it is conceivable. But one does 
 not see how plants can be formed solely in consequence of 
 the general laws of the communication of motion. One cannot 
 imagine how this can be so; one can still less conceive it. What 
 reason, therefore, can one adduce in favour of it and against the 
 view which Theodore has just put before us? 
 
 ARISTES. I should be very much inclined to believe that 
 God preserves animals and plants by means of particular volitions, 
 if Theodore had not pointed out to me that to remove from 
 Providence its simplicity and generality would be to humanise 
 it and to make it bear the character of a limited intelligence. 
 We must, therefore, give up this idea and believe that God in 
 the first impression of movement which He communicated to 
 matter distributed it so wisely, that in one stroke He formed 
 all animals and all plants for all generations. This is possible, 
 since matter is infinitely divisible. And this is what has 
 happened since this procedure is more worthy of the infinitely 
 perfect Being than any other. 
 
 TuHEoTimus. Add to this, Aristes, that Scripture teaches us 
 that now God rests, and that at first He did not merely make the 
 
 t Cf, L’Anatomie des Planies, by M. Grew and M. Malpighi. 
 
288 ELEVENTH DIALOGUE 
 
 plants of the first year of the creation, but also the seeds fos 
 all the others. ‘‘ And God said, let the earth put forth grass, 
 herb yielding seed and fruit-tree yielding fruit after its kind, 
 wherein is the seed thereof, upon the earth.’’! These last words,. 
 ‘‘wherein is the seed thereof,’ added to these: ‘‘ And on the 
 seventh day God ended His work which He had made,’’2 indicate, 
 it seems to me, that God, in order to preserve His creatures, no 
 longer acts as He did when He made them. Now He acts in two 
 ways alone, either by means of particular volitions or by general 
 volitions or laws. He does nothing now, therefore, but follow 
 His laws, unless He has good reasons which compel Him to 
 interrupt the course of His providence—reasons which I do not 
 believe you could find in the needs of animals or of plants. 
 
 X. ARISTES. No, doubtless not; for even if they were 
 decreased by half their number, there would be only too many 
 of them. For, pray tell me, Theodore, of what avail are all those 
 many plants which are useless for our purpose, all those insects 
 which annoy us? These small animals are the work of an infinite 
 wisdom, I grant. But it is exactly this fact which is the source 
 of my difficulty ; for why produce so many excellent things to 
 feed the swallows and devour our buds? Isit, Theodore, because 
 the world would not be as perfect as it is if caterpillars and 
 small insects did not strip the trees of their fruits and leaves ? 
 
 THEODORE. If you judge, Aristes, of the works of God solely 
 by their relation to you, you will soon blaspheme against Provi- 
 dence; you will soon entertain strange opinions about the 
 wisdom of the Creator. 
 
 ARISTES. What! Is it not for the good of man that God 
 has made everything ? 
 
 THEODORE. Yes, Aristes, for the sake of that man to 
 whom God has subjected everything without any exception; 
 for the sake of that man of whom St. Paul speaks in the second 
 chapter of the Epistle to the Hebrews. God has made everything 
 for the sake of His Son, everything for the sake of His Church, 
 and His Church for His sake. But if He made flies for man, 
 He did so assuredly in order to annoy and punish him. Most 
 animals have parasites peculiar to them, but man has this ad- 
 vantage over them, that there are many different kinds for him 
 alone, so true is it that God has made everything for him. 
 
 1 Gen, i. It. @ Ibid) we 2: 
 
ee ne ee a EE 
 
 ON METAPHYSICS 289 
 
 It is in order to devour his corn that God made locusts. It is in 
 order to sow his fields that He gave wings as it were to the seed 
 of thistles. It is in order to wither his fruits that He produced 
 insects differing infinitely in kind. In this sense, if God did not 
 make everything for man, He came pretty near doing so. 
 
 Observe, Aristes, the infinite foresight of God. In accordance 
 with this foresight, He was bound to regulate all His designs. 
 Before giving to matter that first impression of movement which 
 formed the universe for all generations, He knew clearly all the 
 consequences of all the possible combinations of the physical 
 with the moral, on the basis of all kinds of suppositions. He 
 foresaw that under such and such circumstances man would 
 sin, and that his sin would be communicated to all his posterity 
 in consequence of the laws of the conjunction of soul and body. 
 Hence, because He willed to permit this fatal fall, He was bound 
 to make use of His foresight and to combine the physical with 
 the moral so wisely, that all His works should give rise between 
 them and for all generations to the most beautiful harmony 
 possible. And this marvellous harmony consists partly in the 
 order of justice, that man having revolted against the Creator, 
 which revolt God foresaw was bound to occur, all creatures 
 should revolt so to speak against him, and punish him for his 
 disobedience. That is why there are so many different animals 
 waging war upon us. 
 
 XI. ARISTES. What! Before man had sinned, had God 
 already prepared the instruments of His vengeance? For you 
 know that man was created only after everything else had been 
 created. This seems to me very harsh. 
 
 THEODORE. Before his fall man had no enemies. His body 
 and everything in his environment were in submission to him ; 
 he suffered no pain against his own will. It was just that God 
 should protect him by means of a special providence, or that 
 He should put him under the guardianship of some tutelary 
 angel, in order to prevent any grevious consequences of the laws of 
 the communication of motion. Had man preserved his innocence, 
 God would always have had the same care for him, for He never 
 fails to deal justly with His creatures. But now! do you not 
 desire God to make use of His foresight and to choose the wisest 
 
 t Recherche Il, ch. vii, and the Eclaiycissement on this chapter, 
 2 Eccl. xxxix. 35. 
 
 19 
 
290 ELEVENTH DIALOGUE 
 
 combination possible between the physical and the moral ? 
 Do you desire an infinitely wise Being not to make His action 
 bear the character of His wisdom, or to have made man and 
 have tried him before making the creatures which inconvenience 
 us, or finally to have changed His plan and reformed His work 
 after the fallof Adam? God, Aristes, never repents, never belies 
 Himself. The first step which He takes is regulated by the 
 foresight of all that is to follow it. Nay, indeed, God only 
 decides to take this first step after having compared it not only 
 with what is to follow it but with an infinity of other suppositions 
 and other combinations of all kinds of the physical with the 
 moral, and of the natural with the supernatural. 
 
 Once again, Aristes, God foresaw that man under such and 
 such circumstances would revolt. After having compared 
 everything, He thought that He ought to permit the Fall. I 
 Say permit because He did not compel man to fall. Hence 
 by a wise combination of the physical with the moral He had 
 to make His action bear the mark of His foresight. But, 
 say you, has He, then, before the Fall prepared the instruments 
 of His vengeance ? Why not, if He foresaw this Fall and willed 
 to punish it? Had God made man unhappy when innocent, 
 had He made use of those instruments before the Fall, one would 
 have had cause for complaint. But is it forbidden to a father 
 to keep some rods ready for chastising his child, especially if 
 he foresees that the child will not fail to disobey him? Ought 
 he not even to show him these menacing rods in order to keep 
 him on the path of duty? Can one doubt that bears and 
 lions were created before the Fall? And is it not enough to 
 believe that these cruel beasts whom God uses now for our 
 punishment respected in Adam his innocence and the Divine 
 Majesty ? But if you find it ill that before the Fall God should 
 have prepared instruments for punishing it, console yourself; 
 for by His foresight He also found the remedy for this evil before 
 it had occurred. Certainly, before the Fall of the first man God 
 had already designed to sanctify His Church through Jesus 
 Christ ; for St. Paul teaches us that, in their marriage which 
 preceded the Fall, Adam and Eve were the symbol of Jesus Christ 
 and His Church. ‘‘ This is a great mystery; but I speak con- 
 cerning Christ and the Church,’’! the first Adam being, till his 
 Fall, the figure of Him that was to come.? God’s foresight being 
 
 : Eph. v. 32. * Rom. v. 14. 
 
I a er 
 
 a a ee 
 
 ON METAPHYSICS 291 
 
 infinite, everything, Aristes, is regulated in accordance with it. 
 God permitted the Fall. Why? Because He foresaw that His work 
 retrieved in a certain manner would be of greater value than the 
 same work as at first constructed. He laid down general laws, 
 in accordance with which the fields were to suffer from ice and 
 hail; He created cruel beasts and an infinite number of very 
 incommodious animals. Why? Because He foresaw the Fall. He 
 instituted an infinite number of marvellous connections between 
 all these works. He typified Jesus Christ and His Church 
 in a thousand ways. This is an effect and a sure indication 
 of His foresight and wisdom. Do not think it ill, then, that 
 God made use of His foresight, and that He has once and 
 for all wisely combined the physical with the moral, not for 
 the short time during which the first man was to preserve his 
 innocence, but having regard to him and all his children as they 
 were to be to the end of all generations. Adam could not com- 
 plain of the animals devouring one another, while they rendered 
 to him, as their sovereign, the respect which was his due. 
 Rather was he bound to learn from this fact that they were 
 only brutes, incapable of reason, and that God had distinguished 
 him from among all His creatures. 
 
 XII. Artistes. I thoroughly appreciate what you are saying. 
 God had good reasons for the creation of large animals capable 
 of punishing us. But why so many small insects that do us 
 neither good nor evil and the mechanism of which is perhaps 
 even more wonderful than that of the large animals, a mechanism, 
 moreover, which is hidden from us, and which does not cause 
 us to recognise the wisdom of the Creator ? 
 
 THEODORE. Without stopping to prove to you that there 
 is no animal, however small, which cannot in one way or another 
 stand in some relation to us, I reply that the main design of 
 God in the formation of these small insects was not to do us 
 any good or evil by their means, but to adorn the universe with 
 works worthy of His wisdom and of His other attributes. Most 
 men despise insects, but there are some who have regard for them. 
 Apparently, the angels themselves admire them. But even if all 
 intelligent minds ignore them, the fact that these small animals 
 express the divine perfections and render the universe more perfect 
 in itself, though less comfortable for sinners, is sufficient reason 
 for their creation, granting that God was able to preserve them 
 
292 ELEVENTH DIALOGUE 
 
 without multiplying His ways ; for God has assuredly made the 
 most perfect work by the simplest and most general means. 
 He foresaw that the laws of movements were sufficient to preserve 
 in the world any species of insects you like. He willed to 
 make all possible use of His laws in order to render His work 
 more finished. He, therefore, made from the very first whole 
 species of this insect by means of a wonderful division of a 
 certain portion of matter; for it is necessary always to bear well 
 in mind that it is by means of movement that everything is 
 effected in bodies, and that, in the first determination of move- 
 ments, it was a matter of indifference to God whether the bodies 
 should be made in one way or another, there being no general 
 laws of the communication of movements before bodies had 
 come into contact with one another.! 
 
 ARISTES. I see that, Theodore. A world filled with an 
 infinity of animals small and large is more beautiful and 
 reveals greater intelligence than another world wherein there 
 arenoinsects. Now, such a world does not cost God, so tospeak, 
 any more than another, nor does it require a more complex 
 and particular Providence, and consequently it bears just as well 
 as any other world the character of the divine immutability. 
 It should not, therefore, surprise us to find that God has made 
 so large a number of insects. 
 
 XIII. THEODORE. What we are saying now, Aristes, is 
 general in character and does not exclude an infinity of reasons 
 which God had for making the world in the way He did. 
 
 ARISTES. I must tell you, Theodore, of a thought which 
 occurred to me when you spoke of the apparent transformation 
 of insects. Worms creep upon the earth. There they lead a 
 sad and debasing life. But they make for themselves a tomb 
 whence they come out glorious. I thought that by this God 
 desired to typify the life, death and resurrection of His Son, 
 and even of all Christians. 
 
 THEODORE. I am very glad, Aristes, that this thought should 
 have occurred to you, for though it seems to me quite sound, 
 I should not have dared to propose it to you. 
 
 ARISTES. Why not ? 
 
 THEODORE. Because it has something base in it which dis- 
 pleases the imagination. Besides, this word alone,—namely, 
 
 t Dialogue X, 17, 
 
ON METAPHYSICS 293 
 
 worm or insect,—when joined to the great idea which we ought 
 to have of the Saviour, may excite ridicule; for I suppose you 
 know that the ridiculous consists in the junction of the small 
 with the great. 
 
 ARISTES. Yes ; but what seems ridiculous to the imagination 
 is often very reasonable and just ; for often enough do we despise 
 what we do not know. 
 
 THEODORE. Quite true, Aristes. The lily of the field which 
 we neglect is more finely arrayed than Solomon in all his glory. 
 Jesus Christ did not fear ridicule when He advanced this 
 paradox. The imagination is satisfied, as well as the reason, 
 when one compares the magnificence of King Solomon with the 
 glory of the resurrected Jesus Christ. Butit is not satisfied when 
 one seeks in the beauty of the lilies an image of the Saviour. 
 Nevertheless, Solomon’s magnificence was but the work of man, 
 whereas it is God who has given to the flowers all their adorn- 
 ments. 
 
 ARISTES. Do you think, then, that God has typified Jesus 
 Christ in plants as well as in insects ? 
 
 THEODORE. | I believe, Aristes, that God has connected every- 
 thing with Jesus Christ in a thousand different ways, and that 
 created things not only express the divine perfections, but are 
 also as much as that is possible emblems of His well-beloved Son. 
 The seed which one sows must, so to speak, die in order to be 
 resuscitated and yield its fruit. I think that this is a natural 
 symbol of Jesus Christ, who died in order to come to life again 
 gloriously. ‘‘ Except a corn of wheat fall into the ground and 
 die, it abideth alone: but if it die, it bringeth forth much fruit.” ! 
 
 THEOTIMUS. One can make use of whatever one likes for 
 the purpose of comparisons. But it does not follow on that 
 account that God desired to symbolise Jesus Christ by means of 
 all the things which have but an arbitrary relation to Him. 
 
 THEODORE. If I did not know, Theotimus, that God’s 
 principal design is Jesus Christ and His Church; that nothing 
 is acceptable to God except through Jesus Christ ; and that it 
 is in Jesus Christ and through Jesus Christ that the universe 
 subsists, because there is no one but Jesus Christ to sanctify it, 
 extract it from its profane state, and render it divine,? I should look 
 upon what I now take to be natural symbols as arbitrary and 
 quite unworthy comparisons. Yes, Theotimus, I believe that 
 
 t John xii. 24, 2 Dialogue IX, 6. 
 
294 ELEVENTH DIALOGUE 
 
 God had Jesus Christ so much in view when He formed the 
 universe that perhaps the most wonderful thing in providence 
 is the relation or connection which it establishes incessantly 
 between the natural and the supernatural, between what happens 
 in the world and what occurs in the Church of Jesus Christ. 
 
 XIV. ARIsTES. Assuredly, Theotimus, that in the trans- 
 formations of insects God desired to symbolise Jesus Christ 
 is a fact which stares us in the face. A worm is despicable 
 and impotent; was not Jesus Christ despised? ‘‘ But I am 
 a worm and no man; a reproach of men and despised of the 
 people.”’! Was He not burdened with our infirmities and our 
 weakness ? “ Surely He has borne our griefs and carried our 
 sorrows.”2 A worm shuts itself up in its tomb and revives some- 
 time afterwards without being corrupted. Jesus Christ, too, 
 died and rose, without His body having been subjected to the 
 power of corruption ; “‘ neither did His flesh see corruption.” 3 
 The resurrected worm has a body which is, so to speak, all 
 spirit. It doesnot creep, it flies. Itno longer feeds upon putrefied 
 things, it only seeks flowers. It has nothing despicable; a 
 more magnificent adornment it could not have. In the same way 
 Jesus Christ rose from the dead, and was overwhelmed with 
 glory ; He rose into the heavens, He no longer crept about, so to 
 speak, in Judea from village to village. He was no longer subject 
 to the weakness and infirmity of His laborious life. He rules over 
 all the nations, and can break them as one breaks an earthen 
 pot, as the Scripture saith. Supreme power was given to Him 
 in heaven and upon earth. Can it be said that this analogy 
 is arbitrary ? Assuredly it is natural. 
 
 THEODORE. You are forgetting, Aristes, some points of 
 resemblance too close to be neglected. 
 
 ARISTES. What are they ? 
 
 THEODORE. These worms before their transformation keep 
 on growing. But flies, butterflies and generally everything that 
 flies after having been a worm, all that has undergone trans- 
 formation, remains ever in the same state. 
 
 ARISTES. It is so because on earth one can keep on 
 increasing one’s merits, whereas in heaven one remains as one is. 
 
 THEODORE. I have noted that insects do not procreate 
 unless they are resuscitated and, so to speak, glorified. 
 
 t Ps. xxii. 6. 2 [sa. ]iii, 4. 3 Acts ii. 35. ¢ Ps. cx. 
 
ON METAPHYSICS 295 
 
 ARISTES. You are right. It is because Jesus Christ only 
 sent the Holy Spirit to His Church, only rendered it fruitful, 
 after His resurrection and after He had entered into posses- 
 sion of His glory. ‘‘ For the Spirit was not yet given,” 
 says St. John,t ‘‘ because Jesus was not yet glorified’; and 
 Jesus Christ Himself said, ‘“‘ It is expedient for you that I go 
 away: for if I go not away, the Comforter will not come 
 unto you; but if I go, I will send Him unto you.”?, I am no 
 longer surprised that God has made such a large number of 
 insects. 
 
 THEODORE. If God takes pleasure in His work, Theotimus, 
 it is because He sees everywhere in it his well-beloved Son; 
 for we ourselves are acceptable to God, only because we are 
 expressions of Jesus Christ. Matter cannot, through the modifi- 
 cation of which it is capable, express exactly the inner disposition 
 of the saintly soul of Jesus, His charity, His humility, His patience. 
 But it can very well imitate the different forms which His adorable 
 body assumes. And I think that the honour which the arrange- 
 ment of matter, that symbolises Jesus Christ and His Church, 
 does to the love of the Father for the Son is greater than the 
 honour which any other arrangement might do to His wisdom 
 and to His other attributes. 
 
 ARISTES. Perhaps even it isin the arrangements of matter 
 suited to typify Jesus Christ that there is most skill and intelli- 
 gence ; for when a living animal makes for itself a tomb in order 
 to shut itself up therein and to rise from it gloriously, can one 
 conceive a more wonderful mechanism than that through which 
 these movements are executed ? 
 
 THEOTIMUS. I quite see your point, and, moreover, Theodore, 
 I believe that God has even symbolised in the dispositions of 
 bodies those of the saintly soul of Jesus, and principally the excess 
 of His love for His Church; for St. Paul teaches us3 that this 
 violent passion of love which causes one to leave one’s father 
 and mother for the sake of one’s wife is an image of the excess 
 of the love of Jesus for His spouse. Now, though animals, strictly 
 speaking, are incapable of love, they express in their movements 
 this great passion and reproduce their species almost in the 
 manner of men. They, therefore, typify naturally this violent 
 love of Jesus Christ, which caused Him to shed His blood for 
 His Church. In fact, to express emphatically and vividly the 
 
 t John vii. 39. * Ibid. xvi. 7. 3 Eph, v. 
 
296 ELEVENTH DIALOGUE 
 
 folly of the cross, the annihilation of the Son of God, the excess 
 of His love for mankind, a blind and wanton passion, so to speak, 
 would be necessary, a passion which knows no limits. 
 
 ARISTES. Let us admire, then, the incomprehensible wisdom 
 of the Creator in the wonderful relations which He has established 
 amongst His works, and let us not regard as useless those created 
 things which perhaps do us neither good nor evil; they render 
 God’s work more perfect ; they express the divine perfections ; 
 they are symbols of Jesus Christ. It is that which constitutes 
 their excellence and their beauty. 
 
 THEODORE. Quite so, Aristes. But since God loves His 
 creatures only in proportion to the relation in which they stand 
 to His perfections, only in so far as they are expressions of 
 His Son, let us be perfect as our Heavenly Father is perfect, and 
 let us shape ourselves in accordance with the model which He 
 has given us in His Son. It is not enough for Christians to 
 typify Jesus Christ as the animals and material things do, or 
 even as Solomon did by the outward show of a brilliant glory. 
 It is necessary to imitate His virtues, those virtues which He 
 practised during His humiliating and painful life, those virtues 
 which are suitable for us whilst we creep upon the earth, well 
 knowing that a new life is reserved for us in heaven, where 
 we expect our glorious transformation. ‘‘ For our conversation 
 is in heaven; from whence also we look for the Saviour, the 
 Lord Jesus Christ: who shall change our vile body, that it 
 may be fashioned like unto His glorious body.” ! 
 
 s°Phil, 313,20, / 21, 
 
Af ee er ee ee 
 
 TWELFTH DIALOGUE 
 
 The Divine Providence in the laws of the conjunction of soul and body— 
 Through this conjunction God brings us into relation with all His 
 works—The laws of the union of the mind with Reason—tThe for- 
 mation of societies through these two sorts of law—The distribution 
 among men, through the aid of the angels, of temporary goods, and 
 through Jesus Christ of inner grace and all kinds of good—The 
 generality of Providence, 
 
 ARISTES. Ah, Theodore, how wonderful God is in His works, 
 what depth there is in His designs, what relations and combina- 
 tions of relations He had to compare in order to give to matter 
 that first impression which formed the universe with all its 
 parts, not for one moment, but for all generations! What 
 wisdom there is in the subordination of causes, in the inter- 
 linking of effects, in the conjunction of all the bodies which 
 make up the world, in the infinite combinations, not only of 
 the physical with the physical, but of the physical with the moral, 
 and of both with the supernatural ! 
 
 THEODORE. If the mere arrangement of matter, if the 
 necessary effects of certain very simple and very general laws 
 of motion, appear to us to be something so very marvellous, 
 what ought we to think of the different societies which arise 
 and maintain themselves in consequence of the laws of the 
 conjunction of the soul and body ? What ought we to say of the 
 Jewish people and its religion, and finally of the Church of Jesus 
 Christ ? What should we think, my dear Aristes, of the heavenly 
 Jerusalem, if we had a clear idea of the nature of the material 
 out of which this saintly city will be constructed, and could form 
 a conception of the order and harmony of all the parts of which 
 it will be composed ? For, after all, if out of the vilest of created 
 things, out of matter namely, God has made so magnificent 
 a world, what ought to be the temple of the true Solomon, a 
 temple which will be constructed only out of intelligent spirits ? It 
 
 is the impact of bodies which determines the efficacy of natural 
 207 
 
298 TWELFTH DIALOGUE 
 
 laws; and this occasional cause, blind and simple though it be, 
 produces, through the wisdom of the providence of the Creator, 
 an infinity of wonderful works. What, then, will be the beauty 
 of the house of God, being as it is an intelligent nature, illu- 
 mined by the eternal wisdom, and subsisting in the eternal 
 wisdom ; for, as I shall soon explain, it is Jesus Christ who 
 determines the efficacy of the supernatural laws by the aid of 
 which God executes this great work? How magnificent this 
 temple of the true Solomon will be! Will not this universe 
 be so much the more perfect because souls are more perfect 
 than bodies and the occasional cause of the order of grace is 
 more excellent than that which determines the efficacy of natural 
 laws? Assuredly, God is always like unto Himself. His wisdom 
 is not exhausted by the wonders which He has accomplished. 
 He will no doubt produce out of the realm of spirit beauties 
 which will infinitely surpass all that He has made out of matter. 
 What do you think of this, my dear Aristes ? 
 
 ARISTES. I think, Theodore, you delight in precipitating 
 me from abyss to abyss. 
 
 THEODORE. Yes, from deep abysses into still deeper ones. 
 Do you want to consider only the beauties of this visible world, 
 only the providence of the Creator, in the division of matter, 
 in the formation and arrangement of bodies? This earth 
 which we inhabit is made only for the sake of the societies which 
 arise thereon. If men are capable of building up societies, it is 
 in order to serve God in one and the same religion. Every- 
 thing is by nature connected with or related to the Church of 
 Jesus Christ, to the spiritual temple wherein God is to dwell for 
 all eternity. We must not, therefore, linger over the first abyss 
 of God’s providence in the division of matter and the arrange- 
 ment of bodies; we must leave this abyss in order to enter 
 into a second, and thence into a third, until we arrive 
 where all things terminate and where God brings all 
 things into connection. For it is not enough to believe and 
 to say that God’s providence is incomprehensible; it is neces- 
 sary to know this, to understand it. And in order to make 
 sure to ourselves that it is incomprehensible in every way, we 
 must try to consider it in every sense and to follow it up 
 everywhere, 
 
 ARISTES. But we shall never exhaust the subject of Provi- 
 dence if we follow it up into the heavens. 
 
ON METAPHYSICS 299 
 
 THEODORE. Yes, if we follow it up there; but we shall 
 soon lose sight of it. We shall be obliged, Aristes, to pass 
 over lightly what ought to detain us most, whether on 
 account of the magnificence of the work, or on account of the 
 wisdom of its management. For the providence of God over 
 His Church is an abyss in which even the mind illumined by 
 faith can hardly discover anything. But let us come to the 
 point. 
 
 I. You know, Aristes, that man is composed of two substances, 
 
 soul and body, ‘the modifications of which are reciprocal as a 
 
 result of the general laws, which are the causes of the conjunc- 
 tion of these two natures; and you are not ignorant of the fact 
 that these laws are nothing but the constant and ever effective 
 volitions of the Creator. Let us just glance at the wisdom of 
 these laws. 
 
 At the moment a torch is lighted, or the sun rises, it sheds 
 light in all directions, or rather it pushes the matter of its 
 environment in all directions. The surfaces of bodies being 
 variously situated, they reflect the light in different ways, or 
 rather, they modify in different ways the pressure which the 
 sun causes. (Picture this to yourself in any way you please, 
 it matters not at present. For my part I believe that these 
 modifications of pressure consist merely in vibrations or dis- 
 turbances which the subtle matter receives from that which 
 touches it lightly in gliding incessantly over the surface of the 
 bodies between it and these same bodies.) All these vibra- 
 tions or modes of pressure, alternatively more or less strong, 
 spread out and are communicated in circular fashion from all 
 sides, and in an instant because there is no void. Thus, so soon 
 as one opens one’s eyes, all the rays of light reflected from the 
 surface of bodies, and entering through the apple of the eye, 
 disperse in the humours of the eye in order to become united 
 again in the optic nerve. (The mechanism of the eye is a 
 wonderful thing when considered in relation to the action of 
 light, but with this we cannot deal at present. Those who wish 
 to study this subject can consult the Dioptric of M. Descartes.) 
 The optic nerve is thus affected in several different ways by the 
 diverse vibrations of matter which freely come into contact 
 with it, the affections of this nerve are communicated 
 to that part of the brain with which the soul is closely united. 
 
300 TWELFTH DIALOGUE 
 
 Whence it happens, in consequence of the laws of conjunction 
 of soul and body,— 
 
 II. rx. That we are given warning of the presence of 
 objects. For, though bodies are in themselves invisible, the 
 sensations of colour which we have in ourselves, and even despite 
 ourselves on the occasion of their presence, make us believe 
 that we see them as they are, because the operation of God 
 upon us has nothing sensuous in it. And since colours affect 
 us lightly, we attribute them to objects, instead of looking upon 
 them as sensations which belong to us. In this way we judge 
 that objects exist, and that they are white and black, red 
 and blue—in a word, such as we see them. 
 
 2. Although the different kinds of the reflected light of objects 
 consist merely in vibrations of pressure more or less rapid, 
 nevertheless the sensations of colour which correspond to these 
 vibrations or modifications of light have essential differences, 
 in order that by this means we may distinguish objects from 
 one another the more easily. 
 
 3. Thus, through the sensible different kinds of colours which 
 determine in an exact manner the intelligible parts which we 
 find in the idea of space or extension, we discern in one glance 
 an infinity of different objects, their magnitude, figure, situ- 
 ation, movement or rest; all this with great exactness so far 
 as the preservation of life is concerned, but otherwise con- 
 fusedly and very imperfectly; for we must always remember 
 that the senses are not given to us in order to reveal to us the 
 truth, or to indicate the exact relations subsisting amongst 
 things, but in order to preserve our body and everything that 
 may be of use to it. As everything that we see is not, for 
 example, always either good or bad for our health, and as often 
 two different objects may reflect the light in the same way 
 (for are not many objects equally white or black ?), the sensa- 
 tions that we have of colour hardly touch or affect us. They 
 are of use to us in distinguishing objects rather than in uniting 
 ourselves to or separating ourselves from them. It is to the 
 objects that we refer these sensations, and not to the eyes which 
 receive the impression of light. For we always refer our 
 sensations to that a reference to which is conducive to the good 
 of the body. We refer the pain of a pin-prick, not to the pin, 
 but to the pricked finger. We refer heat, smell, taste, both 
 
ON METAPHYSICS 301 
 
 to the organs and to objects. As to colour, it is referred to 
 objects alone. It is clear that all this must be for the good of 
 the body, and it is not necessary for me to explain it to you. 
 
 III. This, Aristes, is what seems to be the simplest and most 
 general aspect of the sensations of colour. Let us now just see 
 how all this is accomplished ; for it seems to me that an infinite 
 wisdom is necessary to regulate these details of the colours 
 in such a way as to cause us to see near or distant objects 
 almost in accordance with their magnitude. When I say dis- 
 tant I do not mean that they are distant to an excessive 
 degree; for when bodies are so small or so distant that they 
 can do us neither good nor harm, they escape our notice. 
 
 ARISTES. Assuredly, Theodore, an infinite wisdom is neces- 
 sary in order to bring about at each twinkling of the eye this 
 distribution of colours upon the idea which I have of space, 
 in such a manner that out of it there should be formed, so to 
 speak, within my soul a new world and a world which 
 stands in a sufficiently clear relation with the world in which 
 we dwell. But I doubt whether God is so exact in the sen- 
 sations which He causes in us; for I know that the sun does not 
 decrease in magnitude in proportion as it gets further away 
 from the horizon, and yet it appears to me smaller. 
 
 THEODORE. But at least you are sure that God is always 
 exact in causing you to see the sun as becoming smaller in 
 proportion as it gets further away from the horizon. This 
 exactness means something, Aristes. 
 
 ARISTES. I believe it does; but how does it come about ? 
 
 THEODORE. It comes about because God, in consequence of 
 these laws, gives us all at once those sensations of colours which 
 we should give to ourselves if we knew optics as the Divine Being 
 does, if we were thoroughly familiar with all the relations sub- 
 sisting amongst the figures of the bodies which project them- 
 selves into the interior of our eyes; for God only determines 
 Himself to act upon our souls in any particular manner through 
 the changes which take place in our body; He acts upon it as 
 though He knew nothing of what takes place outside, by the 
 knowledge which He has of what takes place in our organs. 
 This is the principle; let us follow it up. 
 
 The more distant an object is, the smaller is the image which 
 is traced in the interior of the eye. Now, when the sun rises or 
 
302 TWELFTH DIALOGUE 
 
 sets, it appears further away from us than at noon, not only 
 because we see a great deal of land between ourselves and the 
 horizon where the sun is then, but also because the sky looks 
 like a flattened spheroid. Hence the image of the rising 
 sun in the interior of our eyes ought to be smaller than that of 
 the sun when it has risen. But it is equal, or nearly equal ; 
 hence the sun must appear larger when it is near the horizon 
 than when it is elevated above the horizon. 
 
 THEOTIMUS. I have made an experiment which proves the 
 truth of what you are saying, namely, that the reason why the 
 sun appears to change in magnitude is that it appears noticably 
 to change its distance. I took a piece of glass covered with 
 smoke in such a way as that looking through it I saw nothing 
 but the sun, and I noticed that this apparent magnitude dis- 
 appeared every time I looked at it through the glass, because, 
 as the smoke shut out all the other objects between ourselves 
 and the horizon, I could no longer sensibly see the distance 
 beyond which I could place the sun. 
 
 ARISTES. Would not this be due to the fact that the glass, 
 darkened by the smoke, admitted only a few rays to the eye? 
 
 THEOoTIMUS. No, Aristes, for when far above the horizon the 
 sun always appeared to me to be of the same magnitude, whether 
 I looked at it through the glass or not. 
 
 ARISTES. That is conclusive. 
 
 IV. THEODORE. Observe then, Aristes, that although you are 
 persuaded that the sun is not smaller at noon than in the evening, 
 it nevertheless appears to you much smaller, and learn from this 
 fact that the sensation of a luminous circle which represents this 
 star to you comes to indicate exactly a certain magnitude, only 
 by reference to the colours of all the objects which we see between 
 ourselves and it, since it is the sensuous view of those objects 
 which makes us believe it distant. Learn from this also that 
 all apparent magnitudes, not only of the sun, but generally 
 of everything that we see, ought to be regulated by reasoning 
 similar to that which I have just submitted to you, in order to 
 account for the different appearances of the magnitude of the 
 sun; and comprehend if you can the wisdom of the Creator, who, 
 without hesitation on your aprt, so soon as your eyes are open, 
 gives you an infinity of different sensations of colour, of an in- 
 finity of different objects,—sensations which indicate to you their 
 
OE EE AE LLL READ Ni, AG LS RA ATA Rig DS SORE CRG OAL OA LAP OA 
 
 SSS er 
 
 ON METAPHYSICS 303 
 
 difference and their magnitude, not in proportion to the 
 difference and the size of the images which are traced in your 
 eyes, but—and this is to be noted—determined by the most 
 exact optical reasons possible. 
 
 ARISTES. In this I do not wonder so much at the wisdom, 
 accuracy and uniformity of the Creator as at the stupidity of 
 those philosophers who imagine that it is the soul itself 
 which forms ideas of all the objects of our environment. I 
 admit, nevertheless, that an infinite wisdom is necessary in 
 order to effect within our soul, as soon as we open our eyes, that 
 distribution of colours which partially reveals to us how the 
 world is made. But I would that our senses never deceived 
 us, at least in matters of importance, and not in so palpable 
 a way. The other day, as I was walking quickly down by the 
 river, it appeared to me as though the trees on the shore were 
 moving, and I have a friend who often sees things turning in 
 front of him so that he cannot keep upright. These are very 
 palpable and troublesome illusions. | 
 
 V. THEODORE. God was unable, Aristes, to contrive things 
 better if He willed to act upon us by means of certain general 
 laws; for you must remember the principle which I have been 
 indicating to you. The occasional causes of that which is 
 to take place in the soul are to be found only in what takes 
 place in the body, since it is the soul and the body which God 
 has willed to join together. Thus, God can be determined to act 
 upon our soul in any particular manner only by the different 
 changes which occurin the body. He must not act upon it as 
 though He knew what is taking place outside us, but as though 
 He knew of all the things of our environment only through the 
 knowledge which He has of what is taking place in our organs. 
 Once again, Aristes, this is the principle. Imagine that your 
 soul knows exactly of everything new that is taking place in its 
 body and that it gives itself all those feelings or sensations 
 which are best adapted to further the preservation of life ; 
 that will be exactly what God does in it. + 
 
 You are walking, let us say, and your soul has an inner feeling 
 of the movements which are taking place at the moment in 
 your body. Accordingly, though the traces of the objects within 
 your eyes shift their position, your soul sees those objects as 
 immobile. But supposing you are in a ship. You do not feel 
 
304 TWELFTH DIALOGUE 
 
 that you are being moved, since the movement of the ship 
 effects no change in your body which could serve as an indica- 
 tion to you. The whole shore ought, therefore, to appear to you 
 to be moving, since the images of the objects within your eyes 
 keep on changing their position continually. 
 
 Similarly, if you bend your head, or turn your eyes, or look 
 at a clock from between your legs, you ought not to see it 
 turned upside down; for, though the image of the clock be 
 inverted in your eyes, or rather in your brain, since the images 
 of objects within the eyes are always inverted, your soul, being 
 aware of the position of your body through the changes effected 
 by this position in your brain, must conclude that the clock is 
 upright. 
 
 Now, once more, God in consequence of the laws of the 
 conjunction of soul and body gives us sensations of objects in 
 the same way as our own soul would give them, if it could 
 reason in an exact manner about the knowledge which it should 
 have of what takes place in the body or in the principal part 
 of the brain. But note that the knowledge we have of the 
 magnitude or situation of objects does not help us at all in 
 rectifying our sensations, unless this knowledge is sensuous and 
 is acquired at the moment through some change then taking 
 place in the brain ; for, though I know that the sun is not larger 
 in the evening or morning than at noon, it appears to me larger 
 all the same ; though I know the shore is not moving, it never- 
 theless seems to me to be moving ; though I know that a certain 
 medicine is good for me, I nevertheless find it unpleasant ; 
 and so on with the other feelings or sensations, because God 
 regulates the sensations which He gives to us only by the 
 activity of the occasional cause which He has established for 
 that purpose, that is to say, only by the changes of that prin- 
 cipal part of our body to which our soul is immediately united. 
 Now, it happens occasionally that the flow of the animal spirits 
 is so impetuous and irregular that it prevents the present change 
 in the arrangement of the nerves and muscles from being com- 
 municated to this principal part of the brain, and then every- 
 thing is upside down, one sees two objects instead of one, one 
 can no longer maintain one’s equilibrium in order to remain 
 upright, and this is perhaps what happens to your friend. Yet 
 what would you have? The laws of the union of body and soul 
 are infinitely wise and always exactly followed; but the occa- 
 
Csr a = 
 
 ON METAPHYSICS 305 
 
 sional cause which determines the efficacy of those laws often 
 fails at the moment of need because the laws of the communi- 
 cation of movements are not in submission to our wills. 
 ARISTES. What order and wisdom there is in the laws of 
 the conjunction of soul and body! As soon as we open our 
 eyes we see an infinity of different objects and their different 
 relations without any effort on our part. Assuredly, nothing 
 is more marvellous, though no one reflects upon the matter. 
 
 VI. THEODORE. Through this means God not only dis- 
 closes His works to us, but He unites us to them in a thousand 
 different ways. If, for example, I see a child about to fall, 
 the mere fact of my seeing it, the mere affection of my optic 
 nerve, will let loose in my brain certain contrivances which 
 will make me step forward to help him and to cry out to 
 others to help him; and, at the same time, my soul will be 
 touched and moved, as it ought to be for the good of the human 
 race. If I look into a man’s face, I can see whether he is sad 
 or happy, whether he esteems or despises me, whether he wishes 
 me good or ill—all this through certain movements of eyes 
 and lips which have no relation with what they signify; for 
 when a dog shows me his teeth I conclude that he is angry, but 
 though a man were to show me his teeth I should not think 
 that he wished to bite me. A man’s laugh inspires me with 
 confidence, the bark of a dog with fear. Painters who wish to 
 represent the passions are often embarrassed ; they often take one 
 expression of the face, or one grimace, for another. But when a 
 man is moved by some passion, those who look at him notice 
 this quite well, though perhaps they do not notice whether 
 his lips are raised or not, whether his nose turns up or not, 
 whether his eyes open or close. That is so because God joins 
 us together by means of the laws of the conjunction of soul and 
 body ; and not only men with men but also each creature with 
 all else that may be of use to it, each in its own way ; for if I see, 
 for example, my dog fawning upon me, i.e. wagging his tail, bend- 
 ing his back, lowering his head, the sight of this binds me to him 
 and gives rise in my soul not only to a kind of friendship but 
 even to certain movements in my body which in turn also 
 attach him to me. And what occasions the love of a man for 
 his dog, or the fidelity of the dog towards his master, is a little 
 light liberating certain contrivances in the organisms combined 
 
 ' 20 
 
306 TWELFTH DIALOGUE 
 
 by the wisdom of the Creator in such a way that they should 
 mutually conserve one another. This is common to both of them ; 
 but man has, besides the mechanism of the body, also a soul, 
 and consequently feelings and movements corresponding to the 
 changes that occur in his body; the dog, on the other hand, 
 is a pure mechanism, whose movements, which are adapted to 
 their ends, ought to make us admire the infinite intelligence 
 of Him who constructed it. 
 
 ARISTES. I understand, Theodore, that the laws of the 
 conjunction of soul and body serve not only to unite our mind 
 to a certain portion of matter, but also to the rest of the uni- 
 verse, to certain parts, of course, much more than to others, 
 according as they are the more needed by us. My soul diffuses 
 itself, so to speak, in my body by means of pleasureand pain. It 
 separates itself therefrom by means of the other less vivid feelings. 
 And through light and colour it reaches everywhere even to 
 the skies. It interests itself even in what takes place there. It 
 examines the celestial movements, it is pained by, or rejoices in, 
 the phenomena which it observes, and brings them all into 
 relation with itself as though it had a right to all created 
 things. Truly wonderful is this chain of connections ! 
 
 VII. THEODORE. Consider rather the consequences of these 
 laws in the establishment of societies, in the education of children, 
 in the growth of the sciences, in the formation of the Church. 
 How is it that you know me? You only see my face, a certain 
 arrangement of matter visible only through its colours. I dis- 
 turb the air with my words. This air strikes your ear and 
 you become aware of what I am thinking. We not only train 
 our children as we do horses and dogs, we also inspire them 
 with sentiments of honour and honesty. In your books you have 
 the opinions of philosophers and the history of all the centuries ; 
 but without the laws of the conjunction of soul and body your 
 whole library would be of no greater use than so much black 
 and white paper. Follow these laws in the case of religion. 
 How is it that you are a Christian ? Youare a Christian because 
 you are not deaf. It is through our ears that faith is poured 
 into our hearts. It is because of the miracles we have seen 
 that we are certain of those which we do not see. It is through the 
 power which these laws give us that the minister of Jesus Christ 
 is able to move his tongue in order to preach the gospel and 
 
ON METAPHYSICS 807 
 
 to absolve us from our sins. It is evident that these laws are 
 of paramount importance in religion, morality, in the sciences, 
 in societies, for the good of the whole and for the good of each. 
 It follows that they constitute one of the most important means 
 of which God avails Himself, in the ordinary course of His 
 providence, for the maintenance of the universe and the realisation 
 of His designs. 
 
 VIII. Now, consider how many relations and combinations 
 of relations had to be discerned in order to establish these 
 wonderful laws, and in order so to apply them to their effects 
 as to make all the consequences of these laws the best and the 
 most worthy of God. Do not consider these laws only in relation 
 to the preservation of the human species. That is as yet infi- 
 nitely beyond us. But do not despair: compare them with all 
 the things to which they are related, however despicable they 
 may appear to you. Why, for example, have not wheat and 
 barley small wings such as thistles and teasels possess, so that 
 they might be transported and scattered over the fields by 
 the wind? Is it not because God foresaw that men who 
 cleared those fields of thistles would take enough trouble to sow 
 wheat in them? How is it that the dog has so fine a sense of 
 smell for the odours emitted by animals and that he cannot 
 smell flowers? Is that not so because God foresaw that man 
 and this animal would go together to the chase? If God, 
 when He created plants and animals, took into consideration 
 the use men would make of the power which they have as 
 as a result of the laws of the conjunction of soul and 
 body, assuredly He would not have neglected anything needed to 
 make these laws have consequences advantageous to society and 
 religion. Judge, then, of the incomprehensible wisdom of God’s 
 Providence in the establishment of these laws as you have 
 judged of it in the case of the first impression of movement 
 which he communicated to matter when he formed the universe. 
 
 ARISTES. The mind loses itself in reflections of this sort. 
 
 THEOTIMUS. That is true; but it does not fail to apprehend 
 that the wisdom of God in His general providence is incompre- 
 hensible in every way. 
 
 IX. THEODORE. Let us, then, continue. The mind of 
 man is united to his body in such a manner that through his 
 
308 TWELFTH DIALOGUE 
 
 body he is connected with everything in his environment, not 
 only with sensible objects, but also with invisible substances, 
 since men are attached to one another and joined together by 
 means of the mind as well as of the body, all this in conse- 
 quence of general laws of which God avails Himself in govern- 
 ing the world; and this is what is marvellous in Providence. 
 The mind of man is also united to God, to the eternal Wisdom, 
 the universal Reason which enlightens all intelligent beings. And 
 it is united to Him also through the general laws of which our 
 attention is the occasional cause, determining their eficacy. The 
 disturbances which arise in my brain are the occasional or 
 natural causes of my sensations. But the occasional cause of 
 the presence of ideas to my mind is my attention. I can 
 think of whatever I like. It depends upon me whether I shall 
 examine the subject upon which we are engaged or any other 
 subject ; but it does not depend upon me whether I shall feel 
 pleasure, hear music, or see such and sucha colour. That is so 
 because we are not made to know the relations subsisting between 
 the objects of sense and our body; for it would not be apt that 
 the soul should be compelled, in order to preserve life, to 
 attend to everything that may deprive us of life. It was 
 necessary that it should be able to discern any such threatening 
 object by the short but sure testimony of instinct or sensation, so 
 that it might devote itself entirely to the fulfilment of its duties 
 to God, and to the search after the true goods, the goods of 
 the spirit. It is true that at present our feelings introduce 
 trouble and confusion into our ideas, and that on that account 
 we do not always think of what we wish to think. But that 
 is a consequence of the Fall, and if God permitted the Fall it 
 was because He knew that it would give occasion to the sacrifice 
 of Jesus Christ, from which He derives more glory than from 
 the preservation of the first man. Besides, since Adam had 
 all the assistance necessary for his preservation, God was not 
 constrained to give him that predisposing grace which is suitable 
 only for a weak and feeble nature. But this is not the time 
 to examine the reasons why God permitted the Fall. 
 
 X. It is then our attention which is the occasional or natural 
 cause of the presence of ideas to our mind in consequence of 
 the general laws of its union with the universal Reason. And 
 God was bound to arrange it thus in accordance with His 
 
ON METAPHYSICS 309 
 
 design of making us perfectly free and capable of deserving 
 heaven ; for it is clear that if the first man had not been master 
 of his ideas by means of his attention, his inattention would 
 not have been voluntary,—that inattention which was the first 
 cause of his disobedience. Since we cannot love except through 
 our love of the good, we determine ourselves always to that 
 which appears to us to be the best at the moment when we 
 determine ourselves. It follows that if we were never masters 
 of our attention, or if our attention were not the natural 
 cause of our ideas, we should neither be free nor in a position 
 to merit freedom, as we should not even be able to refuse our 
 consent, seeing that we should not have the power to consider 
 the reason which might induce us to do so. Now, God desired 
 that we should be free, not only because this quality is 
 necessary for us in order that we should merit heaven for 
 which we were made, but also because He desired to make the 
 wisdom of His providence shine forth, as also His quality of 
 searching all hearts, thus using in a happy way both free causes 
 and necessary causes in the realisation of His designs. 
 
 For you must know that God establishes all societies, that 
 He governs all the nations, the Jewish people, the Church of 
 the present and the Church of the future, by the general laws of 
 the union of spirits with the eternal Wisdom. It is by the aid 
 of this Wisdom that sovereigns reign happily and lay down 
 excellent laws. ‘‘ By me kings reign and princes decree justice.” ! 
 It is, indeed, by consulting it that the wicked succeed in 
 their pernicious designs; for in consequence of the general laws 
 one can make use of the light of Reason to further injustice. 
 If a good bishop watches over his flock, if he sanctifies it, if God 
 makes use of him in order to put certain people among the 
 elect, it is partly due to the fact that this minister of Jesus 
 Christ consults Reason through his attention to the order of 
 his duties. And if, on the contrary, a miserable wretch cor- 
 rupts the minds and hearts of those who look to him for guid- 
 ance, if God permits him to be the cause of their ruin, it is 
 partly due to the fact that this minister of the devil abuses 
 the light which he receives from God in consequence of the 
 natural laws. The angels, all the blessed spirits, and even the 
 saintly manhood of Jesus Christ, though each in a different 
 manner, are all united to the eternal Wisdom. Their attention 
 
 t Prov. vill. 15. 
 
810 TWELFTH DIALOGUE 
 
 is the occasional and natural cause of their knowledge. Now, 
 Jesus Christ governs souls, while the angels have power over 
 bodies. God makes use of Jesus in order to sanctify His Church, 
 just as He made use of the angels in order to guide the Jewish 
 people. Since, therefore, all the blessed spirits, even more than 
 ourselves, always consult the eternal Wisdom in order to do 
 anything which does not conform to the order of things, it is 
 clear that God makes use of the general laws of the union of 
 spirits with the infinite Reason in order to carry into effect all 
 the designs which He has entrusted to intelligent beings. He 
 even avails Himself of the malice of demons, and of the use which 
 He foresaw with certainty that they would make of the natural 
 light which was left to them. Not that God acts at every 
 moment by means of particular volitions, but that He only 
 laid down certain laws for certain circumstances, because He 
 knew what wonderful effects would follow from them ; for His 
 foresight has no limits, and His foresight is the rule of His 
 providence. 
 
 XI. ArRisTEs. It seems to me, Theodore, that you are con- 
 sidering the wisdom of Providence only in the establishment 
 of general laws and in the interlinking of causes with their 
 effects, making all creatures act in accordance with their 
 nature, the free creatures freely, and the necessitated according 
 to the power which they have in consequence of the general 
 laws. You want me to admire and adore the impenetrable 
 profundity of God’s foresight in the infinitely infinite combina- 
 tions which He had to make in order to choose from out an 
 infinity of ways in which the universe could be produced that 
 way which He had to follow in order to act in the most divine | 
 manner possible. Assuredly, Theodore, this is the most beautiful 
 feature in the action of Providence, but not the most agreeable 
 one. This infinite foresight is the basis of that generality and 
 uniformity of procedure which bear the character of the wisdom 
 and immutability of God; but it does not, it seems to me, bear 
 the character of His goodness towards men, nor of the severity of 
 His justice against the wicked. It is not possible for God, acting 
 by means of a general providence, to punish those who do us 
 any injustice, nor to provide for all our needs. And how can > 
 we be content so long as something is still lacking? Thus, 
 Theodore, I admire your Providence, but I am not quite satisfied © 
 
~~ a a 
 
 ON METAPHYSICS 311 
 
 with it. It is excellent for God, but not altogether good for 
 us; for I want God to provide for all His creatures. 
 
 THEODORE. He does provide for them quite abundantly. 
 Do you want me to set forth the blessings of the Creator ? 
 
 ARISTES. I know that God bestows upon us thousands of 
 blessings every day. It would seem that the whole world exists 
 only for us. 
 
 THEODORE. What more do you want ? 
 
 ARISTES. That we should be in want of nothing. God has 
 made all things for our sake, yet So-and-so has no bread. 
 A Providence that would give equal shares to all equally de- 
 serving creatures, and that would distribute good and ill 
 exactly according to deserts, would be a veritable Providence. 
 Of what avail is the infinite number of stars? What does 
 it matter whether the movements of the heavens are regu- 
 lated so precisely ? Let God leave all this and think a little more 
 of us. The earth is devastated by the injustice and malignity 
 of its inhabitants. Why does not God cause Himself to be 
 feared ? It seems that He does not interfere with the details 
 of our affairs. The simplicity and generality of His ways has 
 suggested this thought to my mind. 
 
 THEODORE. I understand you, Aristes, You are acting the 
 part of those who will have no Providence, and who imagine 
 that upon this earth it is chance which makes and regulates 
 all things. And I understand that in this way you want to 
 dispute the generality and uniformity of God’s action in the 
 government of the world, because this action does not accom- 
 modate itself to our needs orinclinations. But pray observe that I 
 am arguing from admitted facts and from the idea of the infinitely 
 perfect Being; for after all the sun rises indifferently upon the just 
 and the unjust, it sometimes scorches the fields of good people 
 whilst it renders fertile those of the unbelievers. Men, in a word, 
 are not wretched in proportion to their guilt; and this fact it is 
 which we have to reconcile with a Providence worthy of the 
 infinitely perfect Being. 
 
 Hailstones, Aristes, lay waste the harvests of a good man. 
 Either this sad effect is due to natural consequences of general 
 laws, or God produces it by a particular providence. If! God 
 produces this effect by a particular providence, then, so 
 far from providing for all, He positively wills and brings it 
 about that the best men of the country lack bread. It will, 
 
312 TWELFTH DIALOGUE 
 
 therefore, be better to maintain that the sad effect is a natural 
 result of general laws. And this, too, is what is commonly 
 meant when it is said that God has permitted such-and-such a mis- 
 fortune. Again, you agree that to govern the world by means 
 of general laws is a procedure beautiful and great and worthy 
 of the divine attributes. You maintain only that it does not 
 sufficiently bear the character of His paternal goodness towards 
 the good, and of the severity of His justice towards the wicked. 
 You do not take note of the misery of the good and the 
 prosperity of the infidels; for, things being as we see they are, 
 I submit that a particular providence would not bear at all 
 the character of His goodness and justice, since very often the 
 just are overwhelmed with misfortune, while the wicked are 
 loaded with favours. But granting that God’s action must 
 bear the character of His wisdom as well as of His goodness 
 and justice, I do not find, though at present misfortune and 
 fortune are not in proportion to deserts, any hardness in His 
 general providence. For, in the first place, I submit that, 
 out of an infinity of possible combinations of causes with 
 their effects, God chose that which harmonised in the most 
 beneficial manner the physical with the moral, and that the 
 hailstorm which it was foreseen would fall upon the land of a 
 good man was not one of God’s motives in making His 
 choice, but rather the hailstorm which He foresaw would fall 
 upon the land of a wicked man. I say one of the motives. 
 Notice the significence of this term; for if God afflicts the 
 just, it is because He wishes to test them and make them 
 deserve His reward; therein lies His real motive. I maintain, 
 in the second place, that all men being sinners, no one deserves 
 that God should abandon the simplicity and generality of 
 His ways in order to apportion good and harm to merits and 
 demerits; that sooner or later God will deal with each 
 according to his deeds, at least on the day when He will come 
 to judge the living and the dead, and when to punish them He 
 will establish general laws which will endure for all eternity. 
 
 XII. Nevertheless, Aristes, do not imagine me to hold that 
 God never acts by means of particular volitions, and that all 
 that He does now is to follow the natural laws, which He has 
 laid down once and for all. I hold merely that God never 
 departs from the simplicity of His ways and the uniformity — 
 
ON METAPHYSICS 8138 
 
 of His procedure without important reasons. For, the more 
 general His providence is, the more it bears the character of 
 His attributes. 
 
 ARISTES. But when does He have these important reasons ? 
 Perhaps He never has them. 
 
 THEODORE. God has these important reasons, when the glory 
 which He can derive from the perfection of His work counter- 
 balances that which He would receive from the uniformity of His 
 action. He has these important reasons when what He owes to 
 His immutability is of equal weight with, or of less weight than, 
 what He owes to another of His attributes. Ina word, He has 
 these reasons when, in departing from the general laws which 
 He has laid down, He is acting as much or more in accordance 
 with what He is than in following them; for God always acts 
 in accordance with what He is. Inevitably He follows the 
 immutable order of His own perfections, because it is in His 
 own substance that He finds His law and because He cannot 
 but do justice to Himself and act for the sake of His glory 
 in the sense which I explained the other day.t If you 
 ask me when it happens that God in departing from general 
 laws acts as much or more in accordance with what He 
 is than in following them, my reply is that I do not know. 
 But I know quite well that this happens sometimes. I know 
 it, I say, because my faith teaches me that it is so; for reason, 
 which shows me that this is possible, does not give me any 
 assurance that it actually happens. 
 
 ARISTES. I see what you mean, Theodore, and I know of 
 nothing more in conformity with reason and even with experience ; 
 for really we see quite distinctly from all the effects which are 
 known to us that they have their natural causes, and that, there- 
 fore, God governs the world in accordance with the general laws 
 which He has established for this purpose. 
 
 XIII. THEotTimus. This is true, but nevertheless Scripture 
 is full of miracles which God performed for the Jewish people ; 
 and I do not think that He neglects His Church so much as 
 not to depart in its favour from the generality of His procedure. 
 
 THEODORE. Assuredly, Theotimus, God performs infinitely 
 more miracles for His Church than for the synagogue. The Jewish 
 people were accustomed to see what are called miracles. A pro- 
 
 + Dialogue IX, 
 
814 TWELFTH DIALOGUE 
 
 digious quantity of them was necessary, since the abundance of 
 their land and the prosperity of their arms were connected with 
 their care in observing the commandments of the law; for it 
 is not likely that the physical and the moral could be har- 
 monised so exactly that Judea should always be fertile in pro- 
 portion as its inhabitants were good. Thus, we get an infinity 
 of miracles among the Jews.' But I believe that many more 
 miracles take place amongst us, not in order to apportion 
 temporal good and evil to our deeds, but in order to freely 
 distribute the true goods or the aid necessary in their acquisi- 
 tion ; this is accomplished, nevertheless, without God departing 
 every moment from the generality of His procedure. It is 
 necessary that I should explain this to you, for it is assuredly 
 what is most wonderful in Providence. 
 
 XIV. Man, being a complex of mind and body, stands in need 
 of two kinds of goods, those of the mind and those of the body. 
 God had provided these goods in abundance through the estab- 
 lishment of general laws of which up to now I have been 
 speaking. For not only was the first man placed in a terrestrial 
 paradise where he found fruit in abundance, and one among 
 others which was capable of rendering him immortal, but his 
 body was so well shaped and so submissive to his mind, that 
 in consequence of the general laws he could enjoy all those 
 goods without deviating from the true good. In another way 
 he was united to the universal Reason; and his attention, over 
 which he was absolute master, was the occasional or natural 
 cause of his knowledge. Never did his feelings or sensations 
 confuse his ideas against his will; for he was exempt from that 
 craving which incessantly tempts the mind to renounce reason 
 and follow the passions. He was, then, well provided for, both 
 so far as the mind and the body were concerned; for he knew 
 the true good already and could not lose it. He felt the goods 
 of the body and was able to enjoy them ; all this in consequence 
 of the general laws of the union of the soul on the one hand 
 with the body, and on the other with the universal Reason ; 
 and these two unions were not in conflict with one another, 
 the body being in submission to the mind. 
 
 But man having fallen, he found himself all of a sudden badly 
 
 t By miracles I understand effects depending upon general laws which are 
 not naturally known to us. Cf. the second letter of my Réponse au Vol, I, 
 des Réflexions Philosophiques et théologiques de M. Arnauld, 
 
ON METAPHYSICS 815 
 
 provided with these two kinds of goods; for as the order, which 
 God follows inviolably, does not permit that for the benefit 
 of a rebel there should be exceptions every moment to the 
 general laws of the communications of movements, it was a neces- 
 sity that the influence of objects should be communicated to the 
 principal part of the brain, and that the soul should be affected 
 by it, in consequence of the laws of the conjunction of soul 
 and body. Now the mind, disturbed despite itself by hunger, 
 thirst, fatigue, pain, or a thousand other feelings, can neither 
 love nor seek as is befitting after the true goods; and, instead of 
 peacefully enjoying the goods of the body, the least want 
 makes it unhappy. It results from this that man rebels against 
 God; having lost the authority which he had over his body, 
 he finds himself, through the loss of this power alone, deprived 
 of all the goods with which Providence had provided him. Let 
 us now see how God is going to save him from this unfortunate 
 state of things without doing anything contrary to His justice, 
 and without changing the general laws which He has established. 
 
 XV. Before the Fall man submitted and had to submit to 
 God alone; for naturally the angels had no authority over spirits 
 who were their equals; they had power only over bodies, or 
 inferior substances. Now, as Adam was master of whatever 
 took place in the principal part of his brain, the demons, even 
 if they could disturb the economy of his body by means of the 
 influence of objects or otherwise, would not have been able to 
 disturb him or render him unhappy. But having lost nearly 
 all the power which he had over his body—for so much was left 
 to him as was necessary for the preservation of the human race, 
 which God did not desire to destroy because of the Redeemer,— 
 man found himself necessarily subjected to angels, who can now 
 disturb and tempt him by making traces in his body adapted to 
 excite in his mind grievous thoughts. Seeing that man was sinning, 
 so to speak, at the direction of the Devil and was surrounded 
 by an infinity of creatures who could cause his death, deprived 
 as he was of all help, God put him under the guidance of the 
 angels, him and his whole posterity, and mainly the nation 
 out-of which the Messiah was to be born. Thus, you see that 
 God distributes temporal goods among men despite their 
 being sinners, not by a blind providence but by the action of an 
 intelligent nature. As for the goods of the spirit, or that inner 
 
316 TWELFTH DIALOGUE 
 
 grace which counter-balances the efforts of passion, and which 
 delivers us from the captivity of the Fall, you know that God 
 gives them to us through the sovereign priest of the true good, 
 our Lord Jesus Christ. 
 
 Assuredly, Aristes, this action of God is worthy of admira- 
 tion. Through sin man became the slave of the Devil, the 
 most evil of creatures, and dependent upon the body, the 
 vilest of substances. God subjected him to the angels both 
 for the sake of justice and out of kindness. In so doing He pro- 
 tected us against the Devil and shared out temporal good and 
 evil according to our deeds, as they were good or evil. But 
 observe, He changed nothing in the general laws of motion 
 nor even in the laws of the conjunction of the soul with 
 the body, or with the universal Reason; for, after all, in the 
 supreme power which God gave to Jesus Christ as man, 
 extending generally over all things, and in the power which 
 the angels have over all that concerns temporal good or evil, 
 God did not in the very least depart from the simplicity of 
 His ways and the generality of His providence, because He only 
 communicated His power to His creatures through the establish- 
 ment of certain general laws. Follow me, I beg of you. 
 
 XVI. The power which the angels possess extends only 
 over bodies; for if they act upon our minds it is because of 
 the conjunction of soul and body. Now, nothing takes place 
 in the body except by movement, and there is a contradiction 
 in supposing that the angels could produce movement as real 
 causes.! Therefore, the power of the angels over bodies, and 
 consequently over us, is due to nothing but a general law which 
 God has laid down for Himself to move bodies at the will of 
 the angels. Accordingly, God does not depart from the generality 
 of His providence when He makes use of the agency of the 
 angels in governing the nations, since the angels act only by 
 the efficacy and in consequence of a general law. 
 
 Similar remarks apply to Jesus Christ as man, as Head of 
 the Church, as Supreme Priest of the true good. His power 
 is infinitely greater than that of the angels. It extends over 
 all, even over hearts and minds. But it is through His 
 intercession that our Mediator exercises His power: ‘‘ Semper 
 vivens ad interpellandum pro nobis ’’2 (‘‘ seeing He ever liveth 
 
 1 Dialogue VII, 6 sqq.. 2 Heb, vil. 25. 
 
ON METAPHYSICS 317 
 
 to make intercession for us’’), by desires, namely, which are 
 always efficacious because they are always heard: “‘ Ego autem 
 sciebam quia semper me audis ”’ ! (‘and I knew that Thou hearest 
 me always’’). In truth, it is not by a moral intercession 
 resembling that of aman who intercedes for another, but by an 
 intercession which is powerful and never failing in virtue of the 
 general law which God has laid down never to refuse anything 
 to His Son ; by an intercession resembling that of the practical 
 desires which we have to move our arm, to walk, to speak. For 
 all the desires of men are powerless in themselves, they are 
 efficacious only through the divine power; they do not act 
 independently ; they are, at bottom, merely prayers. But as 
 God is immutable in His action, and as He follows strictly the 
 laws which He has laid down, we have the power to move our 
 arm, and the Head of the Church has the power to sanctify 
 it, because, for our good, God has laid down the laws of the 
 conjunction of soul and body, and because He has promised His 
 Son to hearken to all His desires, according to the utterance 
 of Jesus Christ Himself: “‘ All power is given unto me in 
 heaven and in earth;’’2 and to what was said by His Father 
 after His resurrection: ‘“‘ Ask of me, and I will give thee the 
 uttermost part of the earth for thy possession.’ 3 
 
 XVII. AristES. I am convinced, Theodore, that creatures 
 have no power of their own, and that God only communicates 
 His power to them through the establishment of some general 
 laws. I have the power to move my arm; but I have it in 
 consequence of the general laws of the conjunction of soul and 
 body, and because God, being immutable, is constant in His 
 decrees. God gave to the guiding angel of the Jewish people 
 the power to punish and reward that people because He desired 
 that the volitions of the angel should be followed by their effects. 
 I agree, but it is God Himself who issued commands to this 
 agent as to all that he should do. God gave supreme power 
 to Jesus Christ, but He prescribed to Him all that He should do. 
 It is not God who obeys the angels; it is the angels who obey 
 God. And Jesus Christ teaches us that He told us nothing 
 on His own account, and that His Father had indicated to Him 
 everything that He should tell us. Jesus Christ interceded, 
 but it was for those whom His Father had placed among the elect. 
 
 t John, xi. 42. a Matt, xxviii, 18. 3 Pew ii, +3, 
 
318 TWELFTH DIALOGUE 
 
 He disposes of everything in His Father’s house, but He does 
 not dispose of anything of His chief. Thus, God does depart 
 from the generality of His providence ; for, though He executes 
 the will of Jesus Christ and of the angels in consequence of 
 general laws, He gives rise to those volitions in them by means 
 of particular inspirations. For this there is no general law. 
 
 THEODORE. Are you so sure of it, Aristes? Assuredly, 
 if God commands, in particular fashion, the saintly soul of the 
 Saviour and the angels to form all the desires which they have 
 in relation to us, God departs in doing so from the generality 
 of His providence.t But do you think that the guiding angel 
 of the Jewish people had need of much light in order to govern 
 that people, and that the true Solomon had to be united in a 
 particular manner to the eternal Wisdom in order to succeed 
 in the construction of His great work ? 
 
 ARISTES. Yes, certainly. 
 
 THEODORE. Why, the most stupid and least enlightened 
 could succeed just as well as the wisest of men, if everything 
 that he has to do, and the way in which it ought to be done, 
 is indicated to him, especially if all that he has to do is to form 
 certain desires under certain circumstances. Now, according 
 to you neither the guiding angel of this people nor Jesus Christ 
 Himself desired anything but what was already ordained by 
 His Father in detail. I do not, then, see that for such work He 
 needed an extraordinary wisdom. But now tell me, pray, in 
 what this supreme power which Jesus Christ received consisted. 
 
 ARISTES. It consisted in the fact that all His prayers were 
 hearkened unto. 
 
 THEODORE. But, Aristes, if Jesus Christ can desire nothing 
 except by the express command of His Father, if His desires are 
 not in His power, how can He be capable of receiving any real 
 power? You have the power to move your arm; but that is 
 because it depends upon you whether you shall move it or not. 
 Cease to be the master of your will, and forthwith you lose all 
 your power. Is not this evident? Be careful, then, not to 
 insult the wisdom of the Saviour and not to deprive Him of 
 His power. Do not take away from Him the glory which He © 
 ought to derive from the part which He plays in the construc- 
 
 : This is explained at great length in my Réponses 4 M. Arnauid, chiefly 
 in the Réponse @ la Dissertation and in my first Letive regarding Vol. III. of 
 his Réflexions. 
 
Te 
 
 SS a ee a 
 
 ON METAPHYSICS 319 
 
 tion of the eternal temple. If He has nothing to do but to form 
 impotent desires enjoined upon Him by particular commands, 
 His work could not, it seems to me, do Him much honour. 
 
 XVIII. Aristes. No, Theodore; but then God derives from 
 it all the more glory. 
 
 THEODORE. If that be so, you are right; for God ought to 
 derive more glory from the magnificence of the eternal temple 
 than the wise Solomon who constructed it. But let us 
 see. Let us compare with one another the two- principal 
 modes of God’s providence, in order to ascertain which is the 
 more worthy of the divine attributes. According to the first, 
 God forms once and for all a certain design, independently of the 
 means of its realisation. He chooses the architect and endows 
 him with wisdom and intelligence. In addition, He indicates 
 to him all the desires which he ought to have, and all the 
 circumstances under which he ought to have them. And, finally, 
 He Himself carries into effect in a very exact manner all 
 the desires which He had ordered should arise. This is the 
 idea which you have of God’s action, since you want Him 
 to give rise by the help of particular volitions to all the 
 desires of the saintly soul of Jesus Christ. And this is the idea 
 which I have of it.t I believe that God, through His infinite 
 foresight, having foreseen all the consequences of all the pos- 
 sible laws which He could establish, has united His Word to 
 such a human nature and under such circumstances that the 
 work which was to follow from this union should do Him more 
 honour than any other work produced in any other way. 
 Furthermore, God having foreseen that acting in the saintly man- 
 hood of our Mediator in very simple and very general ways,—I 
 mean in ways most worthy of the divine attributes,—this soul of 
 Jesus Christ would use its power in such a way, and with per- 
 fect liberty would form a series of desires of such a character 
 that these desires having been granted, and on account of His 
 sacrifice deserving to be granted, the future Church which was 
 to result from those desires would be greater and more perfect 
 than it would have been had He chosen any other nature under 
 any other circumstances, 
 
 Compare then, I pray you, the idea which you have of Provi- 
 dence with my idea of it. Which of the two shows more 
 wisdom and foresight ? Mine bears the character of the most 
 
 t Dialogue X. 
 
320 TWELFTH DIALOGUE 
 
 inscrutable quality of the Divinity which is to foresee the free 
 acts of a creature under all sorts of circumstances. According 
 to my idea, God makes use just as readily of free causes as of 
 necessary ones in the realisation of His designs. According to 
 my idea, God does not form His wise designs blindly. Before 
 forming them, humanly speaking, He compares all the possible 
 works with all the possible means necessary for their realisation. 
 According to my idea, God must derive an infinite glory from 
 the wisdom of His procedure ; but His glory does not in any way 
 diminish that of the free causes to whom He has communicated 
 His power without depriving them of their liberty. God gives 
 them a share in the glory of His work and of theirs, by allow- 
 ing them to act freely according to their nature, and in doing 
 so He increases His own glory. For it is infinitely more diffi- 
 cult to realise His designs with certainty by means of free 
 causes than by means of necessary or necessitated causes, or 
 causes which are insuperably determined by express com- 
 mands and invincible impressions. 
 
 ARISTES. Iagree, Theodore, that there is more of wisdom, and 
 that God derives more glory, as does also the saintly manhood 
 of our Mediator, according to this idea of Providence than 
 according to any other. 
 
 THEODORE. You might add that according to this idea 
 one can comprehend that Jesus Christ did not recelve supreme 
 power over all nations to no purpose, and why it was necessary 
 to unite His saintly manhood with the eternal Wisdom in order 
 that He might execute His work successfully. But it is sufficient 
 that you should agree that one of these two modes of providence 
 is wiser than the other ; for one must be quite an infidel to attri- 
 bute to God the one that seems to be the less worthy of His 
 attributes. 
 
 XIX. ARISTES. I surrender, Theodore. But pray explain to 
 me how it is that Jesus Christ Himself says that He is faith- 
 fully executing the will of His Father. ‘‘ For I do always 
 those things that are pleasing to Him,’’ He says ;! and in another 
 place, ‘‘ For I spake not from Myself; but the Father which sent © 
 Me, He hath given Me a commandment, what I should say, and — 
 what I should speak. And I know that His commandment is life — 
 eternal ; the things therefore which I speak, even as the Father — 
 
 t John viii, 29. ) 
 
ON METAPHYSICS 321 
 
 hath said unto me, so I speak.’?! How can you reconcile these 
 passages, and a number of other similar passages, with the 
 opinion that God does not give rise to all the desires of the 
 human will of Jesus Christ by means of particular volitions ? 
 This troubles me to some extent. 
 
 THEODORE. I confess, Aristes, I do not understand how 
 these passages can cause you any difficulty. Do you not know 
 then that the Divine Word, in which the saintly humanity of 
 Jesus Christ subsists, is the living law of the eternal Father ; 
 and that it is contradictory to imagine that the human will of 
 Jesus ever departs from this law? Tell me, pray, are you not 
 certain, whenever you give alms, that you are doing the will 
 of God? And if you were well assured that you had never done 
 any but good deeds, could you not say without fear: ‘I do 
 always those things that please Him ”’ ? 
 
 ARISTES. Quite so, but there would still be a great deal of 
 difference. 
 
 THEODORE. A very great difference, certainly; for how do 
 we know that we are doing the will of God when we give alms ? 
 Perhaps because we have read in the written law that God 
 commands us to help the afflicted, or because, entering into 
 ourselves in order to consult the divine law, we have discovered 
 in that eternal code, as St. Augustine calls it, that such is the 
 will of the infinitely perfect Being. Know then, Aristes, that 
 the divine Word is the law of God Himself, and the inviolable 
 rule of His will, and that it is in it that the divine command- 
 ments are to be found. ‘‘In Verbo unigenito Patris est omne 
 mandatum,’’? says St. Augustine. Know that all minds, some 
 more than others, are free to consult this law; know that their 
 attention is the occasional cause which renders explicable to them 
 all its commandments, in consequence of the general laws of their 
 union with the infinite Reason; know that one cannot do 
 anything which is not acceptable to God if one follows strictly 
 what is written therein; know, above all, that the saintly 
 humanity of the Saviour is more closely united with the law than 
 the most enlightened of intelligent minds, and that it is through 
 it that God has willed that obscurities should be cleared up. But 
 
 1 John xiii. 49, 50. 
 
 a Confess, xii. ch. 15. ‘‘ Mandatum Patris est Filius, Quomodo enim non 
 est mandatum Patris, quod est Verbum Patris?’’ (Aug. Serm, 140, De 
 Verbis Evang., n. 6). 
 
 21 
 
322 TWELFTH DIALOGUE 
 
 note that He has not deprived Jesus Christ of His liberty or of the 
 power of controlling that attention which is the occasional cause 
 of all our knowledge. For, assuredly, the saintly soul of Jesus 
 Christ, though under the direction of the Word, has the power 
 of thinking whatever it pleases in order to accomplish the 
 work for which it has been chosen by God, since God, in His 
 character of scrutiniser of hearts, makes use of free causes just 
 as readily as of necessary ones for the realisation of His 
 designs.! 
 
 XX. Nevertheless, Aristes, do not think that God never 
 departs from the generality of His procedure in regard to the 
 humanity of Jesus Christ, and that He only forms the desires 
 of that saintly soul in consequence of the general laws of 
 the union which it has with the Word. Whenever God 
 foresees that our Mediator, out of an infinity of good deeds 
 which He discovers in the Word as a result of His attention, 
 ought to choose that the consequences of which will be the best 
 possible, then God, who never departs from the simplicity of 
 His ways without reason, does not determine Him by means of 
 a particular volition to do what He foresees He will do ade- 
 quately by the use of His liberty in consequence of general 
 laws. But when the saintly soul of the Saviour, in consequence. 
 of infinite and infinitely infinite comparisons of the combinations 
 of all the effects which result or will result from His desires, 
 can choose out of several good deeds—for He can only do 
 good deeds—those which appear the best and the conse- 
 quences of which nevertheless would not be so advantageous 
 to His work, then, if God derives more glory from the beauty 
 of His work than from the simplicity of His ways, He departs 
 from this simplicity and acts in a particular and extraordinary 
 manner in the humanity of the Saviour, so that the latter may 
 will precisely that which will honour Him most. But though 
 He acts in the humanity of Jesus Christ in this way, I believe 
 that He never determines Him by means of invincible impres- 
 sions of feeling, be they ever so infallible, in order that He 
 may also have the greatest share possible in the glory of His 
 work; for that action which does honour to the liberty and 
 the power of Jesus Christ is even more glorious to God than any 
 
 1 See the first Letive 4 M. Arnauld and the Réponse to his Dissertation © 
 and the first Ledive written in reply to his. 
 
ON METAPHYSICS 823 
 
 other, since it expresses His character of searching all hearts, 
 and bears eloquent witness to the fact that He knows how to 
 make use of free causes just as readily as of necessary ones 
 in the realisation of His designs. 
 
 ARISTES. I understand your contention perfectly. You 
 think that God never departs without the best of reasons from 
 the simplicity and generality of His ways; so that His providence 
 does not resemble that of finite intelligences. You think that 
 His foresight is the basis of the predestination of Jesus Christ 
 Himself, and that, if He united His word to such a nature and 
 under such circumstances, it is because He foresaw that the 
 work which would result from this predestination, which is the 
 cause and foundation of the predestination of all the elect in 
 consequence of the general laws which make up the order of 
 grace, would be the most beautiful that could be produced by 
 the most divine means. You think that the work and the 
 means jointly are together more worthy of God than any other 
 work produced in any other way. 
 
 XXI. THEODORE. Yes, Aristes, I think so because of the 
 principle that God can act only for His own sake, only for 
 the sake of the love which He bears to Himself, only by means 
 of His will, which is not, as it is in our case, an impression 
 coming from elsewhere and leading Him elsewhere—in a word, 
 only for the sake of His glory, only in order to express the 
 divine perfections which He loves with an unconquerable love, 
 in the possession of which He glories and in which He delights 
 by the necessity of His being. He wishes His work to bear 
 in its beauty, and through its magnificence, the character of 
 His excellence and His greatness, and His ways not to belie His 
 infinite wisdom and immutability. If there are defects in His 
 work, monstrosities among bodies and an infinity of sinners 
 and damned ones, it is so because there can be no defects in His 
 procedure, because He cannot form any designs independently 
 of the means of their realisation. He has done for the beauty 
 of the universe and the safety of men all that He could do, 
 not absolutely, but acting as He ought to act, acting for the 
 _ sake of His glory in accordance with all that He is; He loves 
 all things in proportion as they are worthy of love; He desires 
 the beauty of His work, the salvation of all men, the conver- 
 sion of all sinners; but still more He loves His wisdom, He 
 
324 TWELFTH DIALOGUE 
 
 loves it with an unconquerable love, He follows it inviolably. 
 The immutable order of His divine perfections it is, wherein 
 consists His law and the rule of His action, a law which does 
 not forbid Him to love us and to desire that all creatures should 
 be just, saintly, happy and perfect; but a law which does not 
 permit Him to depart at any moment, for the sake of sinners, 
 from the generality of His ways. His providence bears ample 
 testimony to His goodness towards men. Let us submit to it, let 
 us rejoice in the fact that it also expresses His other attributes. 
 
 THEOTIMUS. Well, Aristes, what do you think of the divine 
 Providence ? 
 
 ARISTES. I adore it and submit to it. 
 
 THEODORE. Much discussion will be necessary, Aristes, to 
 cause you to consider all the beauties of this adorable Providence, 
 and to make you notice its principal traits in all that is 
 happening before us day by day. But I have, it seems to me, 
 sufficiently explained the principle; follow it closely, and you 
 will assuredly understand that all those contradictions which 
 induce the enemies of Providence to exult in pitiable triumph 
 are really so many proofs in support of what I have been trying 
 to show you. 
 
THIRTEENTH DIALOGUE 
 
 It is not right to criticise the ordinary accounts of Providence—The principal 
 general laws by the aid of which God governs the world—The provi- 
 dence of God in bestowing infallibility upon His Church. 
 
 I. Artistes. Ah, Theodore, how beautiful and noble the idea 
 which you gave me of Providence appears to me, above all, how 
 fruitful and luminous and how well calculated to silence liber- 
 tines and infidels! Never was there a principle pregnant with 
 more important consequences for religion and morality. This 
 wonderful principle sheds light everywhere, and clears away 
 countless difficulties. All those effects which conflict with one 
 another in the order of nature and of grace do not indicate 
 any contradiction in the cause which governs them ; they furnish, 
 on the contrary, so many clear proofs of the uniformity of God’s 
 activity. All those ills that we are heir to, all those disorders 
 which overwhelm us, can easily be reconciled with the wisdom, 
 goodness and justice of Him who rules over all. I could wish the 
 wicked to be rooted out from among the good; but in patience 
 I await the consummation of the generations, the day of the 
 harvest, that great day set apart for repaying to each according 
 to his deeds. The work of God must be accomplished in a way 
 which shall bear the character of His attributes. I admire now 
 the majestic course of general Providence. 
 
 THEODORE. I can see, Aristes, that you have followed the 
 principle which I laid before you a day or two ago closely and 
 with pleasure, for you seem still to be moved by it. But 
 have you quite grasped it, have you quite mastered it? Of 
 this I am still in doubt, for it is very difficult for you in so short 
 a time to have meditated upon it sufficiently to be fully in 
 possession of it. Acquaint us, I beg of you, with some of your 
 reflections on the subject, in order to clear up my doubt 
 
 and put me at rest; for the more useful, the more fruitful 
 325 
 
326 THIRTEENTH DIALOGUE 
 
 principles may be, the greater is the danger of not understanding 
 them thoroughly. 
 
 II. Artistes. I admit it, Theodore; but what you have said 
 is so clear, and your mode of explaining Providence harmonises so 
 completely with the idea of the infinitely perfect Being, and with 
 all that we see taking place before our eyes, that I am quite 
 persuaded that it is the true mode of explanation. How glad I 
 am to see myself delivered from the error into which most men, 
 and even philosophers, fall! As soon as a misfortune befalls a 
 wicked man, or one who is known to be such, everyone judges at 
 once of God’s designs, and concludes boldly that God willed 
 to punish him. But if it happens—and it happens but too 
 often—that a knave or scoundrel succeeds in his undertakings, 
 or that a good man succumbs under the calumny of his enemies, 
 does it follow that God wills to punish the one and reward 
 the other? Not at all Some say that God wills to put the 
 virtues of the good man to the test; others say that it is a 
 misfortune which He has merely permitted, but has not deliber- 
 ately caused to happen. I think that those people who glory 
 in hating and despising the poor, on the ground that God Himself 
 hates and despises the wretched, seeing that He leaves them in 
 their wretchedness, reason more consistently. How can we judge 
 of God’s designs? Ought we not to realise that we know 
 nothing of them, since we contradict ourselves at every 
 moment ? 
 
 THEODORE. Is this the way, Aristes, in which you understand 
 my principles, and this the use which you make of them ? I think 
 that those whom you condemn are more in the right than you are. 
 
 ARISTES. How so, Theodore? I think you must be joking, 
 or amusing yourself in contradicting me. 
 
 THEODORE. Not at all. 
 
 ARISTES. Really! Do you then approve of the impertin- 
 ences of those impassioned historians who, after relating the 
 death of a Prince, judge of God’s designs with regard to him 
 according to their feelings and the interests of their nation ? 
 Either the Spanish or the French writers, or perhaps both, must 
 be wrong in their descriptions of. the death of Philip II. Must 
 not kings die just as we do? 
 
 _ THEODORE. These historians are wrong, but you are not 
 right. We must not conclude that God willed to do injury 
 
ON METAPHYSICS 327 
 
 to a Prince who is our enemy, and whom we hate; that is true, 
 but we can and must believe that He will punish the wicked 
 and reward the good. Those who judge of God in accordance 
 with the idea they have of the strict justice of the infinitely 
 perfect Being, judge rightly of Him; and those who attribute to 
 Him designs which favour their disorderly inclinations, judge 
 wrongly of Him. 
 
 III. Artstes. That is true; but it is one of the consequences 
 of the natural laws that a certain person should be crushed 
 under the ruins of his house, and that the best of men would 
 not have escaped. 
 
 THEODORE. Who doubts this? But have you not for- 
 gotten that it is God who has established those laws? The 
 erroneous idea of an imaginary “nature ”’ still lingers in your 
 mind, and prevents you from understanding thoroughly the 
 principle which I have explained to you. Be careful, therefore. 
 Since it is God who established natural laws, He had to 
 combine the physical with the moral in such a way that the 
 consequences of such laws should be the best possible, I mean 
 the most worthy of His justice and goodness, as well as of all 
 His other attributes. Thus one is right in saying that the 
 terrible death of a brute or infidel is an effect of the divine 
 vengeance, for though the death is only the result of the natural 
 laws which God has established, yet He only established them 
 for the purpose of such effects; but if any misfortune befalls a 
 good man when he is about to do a good deed, we must not say 
 that God willed to punish him, because God did not establish 
 general laws for the purpose of such effects. We must say 
 that God has permitted this evil because it is a natural conse- 
 quence of those laws which He has established for the sake of 
 the best effects; or because He meant to test this good man 
 and make him deserve his recompense; for among the motives 
 which God had for combining in a certain way the physical with 
 the moral, we must assuredly reckon the great benefits which 
 He foresaw we should derive from our present wretchedness. 
 
 Thus men are right in attributing to the justice of God the 
 evils which befall the wicked. But I believe they err in two 
 ways. Firstly, because they arrive at these conclusions only in 
 the case of extraordinary punishments which strike the mind ; 
 for if a scoundrel dies of fever, they do not usually think that 
 
328 THIRTEENTH DIALOGUE 
 
 this was a punishment from God; to make them think that, 
 he must die from a lightning stroke, or at the hands of the 
 hangman. Secondly, because they imagine that such remarkable 
 punishments are the effects of a particular volition on the part 
 of God. This is a false view, which, taking away from divine 
 Providence its simplicity and generality, deprives it of the 
 character of infinite foresight and immutability ; for, assuredly, 
 infinitely more wisdom is necessary for combining the physical 
 with the moral in a way which should involve the just punishment 
 of certain people for their acts of violence, as a consequence of the 
 interconnection of causes, than for punishing them by means of 
 a peculiar and miraculous Providence. 
 
 ARISTES. That is the way in which I conceive the matter. 
 But what you are saying does not justify the temerity of those 
 who boldly judge of God’s designs in all that happens before 
 their eyes. 
 
 IV. THEODORE. I do not maintain any more than you that 
 they are always right. I only say that they are right when 
 their judgments are free from passion and self-interest, and when 
 they take as their basis the idea which we all have of the infinitely 
 perfect Being. Neither do I maintain that they do well in saying 
 too positively that God had such and sucha design. For example, 
 it seems to me certain that one of the motives for the establish- 
 ment of general laws was the affliction of such and such a 
 good man, if God foresaw that this would be a greater occasion 
 of merit to him. Thus, God willed this affliction, which to us, 
 who do not foresee its consequences, does not seem to harmonise 
 with His goodness. Those who conclude that God has merely 
 permitted this misfortune to occur are mistaken. But what 
 would you have, Aristes ? It is better to leave to men, biassed 
 as they are in favour of their imaginary “nature,” the liberty of 
 judging too positively of the designs of God than to argue with 
 them concerning the effects which appear to contradict the divine 
 attributes. What does it matter if minds fall into contradiction 
 and are involved in difficulties because of their false ideas, 
 providing that at bottom they are not mistaken in essential 
 matters? Provided men do not impute to God designs which are 
 contrary to His attributes, and do not make Him act to suit their 
 passions, I believe they must be listened to in peace. Instead 
 of burdening them with contradictions, which according to their 
 
ON METAPHYSICS 329 
 
 principles are inexplicable, charity demands from us that we 
 should accept what they say in order to confirm them in the 
 ideas which they have of Providence, seeing that they are not in 
 a position to have better ones; for it is even preferable to attri- 
 bute to God a human providence than to believe that everything 
 happens by chance. Moreover, at bottom they are right. A 
 certain infidel dies. It may be boldly said that God has designed 
 his punishment. One would be still more in the right if one 
 said that God willed to prevent him from corrupting others, 
 because in truth God always wills, by means of the general 
 laws which He has established, to do all the good that it is 
 possible to do. A certain good man dies before his time while 
 on his way to help a poor man; in such a case one need not 
 hesitate to conclude, even if he had been struck by lightning, 
 that God willed to recompense him. What Scripture says of 
 Enoch may be said of him: ‘ Raptus est ne malitia mutaret 
 intellectum ejus, aut ne fictio deciperet animam illius.”’ Death 
 removed him, lest the age should corrupt his mind and 
 heart. All these opinions are in conformity with the idea which 
 we have of the justice and goodness of God, and in harmony 
 with the designs which He had when He laid down general 
 laws for the regulation of the ordinary course of His Providence. 
 Not that one is not often mistaken in these opinions ; for to all 
 appearances such and such a good man who died young would 
 have won greater merits and converted more sinners if he had 
 lived longer in the circumstances under which he would have been 
 placed in consequence of the general laws of nature and of grace. 
 But opinions of this sort, though somewhat risky and _ bold, 
 do not produce bad effects; and those who entertain them do 
 not want us so much to believe them to be true as to adore the 
 wisdom and goodness of God in the government of the world. 
 ARISTES. I follow you, Theodore. It is better for men to 
 speak ill of Providence than not to speak of it at all. 
 THEODORE. No, Aristes. But it is better for men to speak 
 often of Providence according to their poor ideas than never 
 to speak of it at all. It is better for men to speak of it in human 
 fashion than never to say anything of it. We ought never to 
 speak ill either of God or of His Providence. That is true; but 
 we are permitted to stutter out something with regard to these 
 exalted matters, provided we do so in accordance with what we 
 are taught by faith, For God is pleased with the efforts which 
 
330 THIRTEENTH DIALOGUE 
 
 we make to relate His marvels. Believe me, Aristes, one can 
 hardly commit a greater wrong in speaking of Providence than 
 in not speaking of it at all. 
 
 THEOTIMUS. Would you, Aristes, wish philosophers alone to 
 speak of Providence and, of philosophers, only those who have 
 the idea of it which you have at present ? 
 
 V. Artistes. Ishould wish men, Theotimus, never to speak of 
 Providence in a way which is calculated to make simple-minded 
 people believe that the wicked must succeed in their under- 
 takings ; for the prosperity of infidels is so well established a fact 
 that it can, and often does, sow distrust in the minds of men. If 
 temporal good and evil were pretty well regulated in accordance 
 with merit and faith in God, the way in which Providence is 
 usually spoken of would not have any bad results. But note, 
 most men, and those above all who have the most piety, fall 
 into great misfortunes, because, instead of making use in their 
 need of the certain measures furnished to them by generat 
 Providence, they tempt God in the deceptive hope of a particular 
 providence. If they have a lawsuit, for example, they neglect to 
 prepare the necessary papers in order to instruct the judges on the 
 justice of their cause. Ifthey have enemies or if there are envious 
 people who prepare an ambush for them, instead of watching them 
 so as to discover their designs, they expect that God will not fail 
 to protect them. Women who have a cross husband, instead 
 of winning him over by patience and humility, go to complain 
 of him to all sorts of good people of their acquaintance, and to 
 commend him to their prayers. One does not always obtain 
 in this way what one desires and hopes for; and in that case 
 one does not fail to grumble about Providence and to entertain 
 opinions which violate the divine perfections. You are aware, 
 Theotimus, of the sad effects which a Providence wrongly 
 understood produces in the minds of simple people, and 
 that it is mainly to this that superstition owes its origin,— 
 superstition which causes an infinite number of evils in the 
 world. 
 
 TuEotImMus. I grant you, Aristes, that it would be desirable _ 
 that all men should have a just idea of divine Providence. 
 But I agree with Theodore, and submit that this not being 
 possible, it is better for them to speak of it as they do than 
 not to speak of it at all. The idea which they have of it, false _ 
 
ON METAPHYSICS 331 
 
 though it be, and even the natural inclination which leads 
 minds to superstition, is very advantageous to them in the state 
 they are in, for it prevents them from falling into a thousand 
 errors. When you have thought this matter over, I believe 
 you will agree. A certain person loses his lawsuit because he 
 neglected the natural means which were requisite. What does 
 it matter, Aristes ? The loss of his property will prove, perhaps, 
 to be the cause of his salvation. Assuredly, if it is not laziness 
 and negligence which have caused him to neglect all this, but a 
 holy impulse of faith in God and the fear of meddling with the 
 quibbles of law and of losing his time to no purpose, if that is so, 
 he has gained his lawsuit before God, though he may perchance 
 have lost it before men ; for he will gain more profit from a suit 
 lost in this way than from another won with expenses, damages, 
 and interest. 
 
 VI. We are Christians, Aristes; we are entitled to the true 
 goods ; Heaven is open, and Jesus Christ, our precursor and 
 chief, has already entered it for us. Accordingly, God no longer 
 rewards our faith in Him, as was His wont formerly, by an 
 abundance of temporal goods; He has better rewards for His 
 adopted children in Jesus Christ. That time has passed away 
 together with the law. The ancient covenant symbolical of 
 the new is now abrogated. If we were Jews, I mean 
 carnal Jews, we should have here below a recompense in 
 proportion to our deserts; I say carnal, for the Christian 
 Jews had a share in the cross of Jesus Christ before sharing 
 in His glory. But we have a hope better than theirs, a 
 better and an enduring possession! founded on a better 
 covenant and better victims: “‘ By so much hath Jesus become 
 the surety of a better covenant. . . . With better sacrifices than 
 these.’”’2 The prosperity of the wicked should not surprise 
 us more than the Jewish Christians, than the Mahometans, than 
 those who do not know the difference there is between the two 
 covenants, between the Grace of the Old Testament and that 
 of the New, between the temporal goods which God bestowed 
 upon the Jews through the agency of the angels and the true 
 goods which God gives to His children through our chief and 
 Mediator Jesus Christ. It is believed that men ought to 
 be wretched in proportion to their wickedness. It is true ; 
 
 t Heb, x. 34. WO Heb. Vil. 22, 1x.- 23: 
 
332 THIRTEENTH DIALOGUE 
 
 and at bottom we are not mistaken in believing this, for sooner 
 or later it will come to pass. There is not a Christian who 
 does not know that the day will come when God will render 
 to each according to his deeds. The prosperity of the wicked 
 can therefore disturb only those who are lacking in faith, and — 
 who recognise no other goods than those of this life. Thus, 
 Aristes, the confused and imperfect idea which most men have 
 of Providence does not produce so many bad results as you 
 think in true Christians, though it may disturb the minds of and 
 render extremely anxious the majority of men, who often notice 
 that it is not in accord with experience. But it is better that 
 they should have this idea of Providence than that they should 
 have no idea of it at all, which by degrees would come to be 
 the case if they allowed it to be blotted out from their minds 
 through a pernicious silence. 
 
 ARISTES. I admit, Theotimus, that faith often precludes us 
 from drawing impious conclusions from the prosperity of the 
 wicked and the sufferings of the good. But as faith is not 
 so palpable as the continuous experience of sad events, it does 
 not always prevent the mind from being disturbed and from mis- 
 trusting Providence. Moreover, Christians hardly ever follow the 
 principles of their religion ; they speak of good and evil as the 
 carnal Jews do. When a father exhorts his son to follow virtue, 
 he is not afraid of saying to him that if he is a good man all 
 his undertakings will be successful. Do you think that his — 
 son then thinks of the true goods? Alas! perhaps the father 
 never thinks of them himself. Meanwhile, the infidels, who care- — 
 fully notice the contradictions of all these harangues, which are 
 made without any reflection on the ways of Providence, do not fail | 
 to extract from them proofs of their infidelity, and these proofs 
 are so readily grasped, so palpable, that merely to put them for- 
 ward is enough to disturb good people and to cause the downfall — 
 of those who are not upheld by faith. ‘Suppose ye,” said 
 Jesus Christ, “that these eighteen persons who were crushed 
 under the tower of Siloam were more criminal, more beholden ~ 
 to the justice of God, than the other inhabitants of Jerusalem ? © 
 Nay, I tell you, but you shall all perish unless you repent.” 
 This is how one ought to speak to men in order to teach them © 
 that in this life the most wretched are not on that account 
 the most criminal, and that those who live in abundance, in 
 
 t Luke xiii. 4, 5. a 
 

 
 ON METAPHYSICS 333 
 
 the midst of pleasures and honours, are not on that account 
 more cherished by God or protected by a more particular 
 Providence. — : 
 
 VII. THEoTImus. Yes, Aristes; but everybody is not always 
 in a position to realise this truth. Durus est hic sermo.. The 
 carnal people, those who as yet share the opinions of the Jews, 
 do not comprehend it at all. It is necessary to speak to men 
 according to their light or capacity, and to adapt oneself to their 
 weakness in order gradually to win them over. It is necessary 
 carefully to preserve in their minds the idea of Providence 
 which they are capable of having. It is necessary to promise 
 them a hundredfold, that they should understand it as they can, 
 according to the dispositions of their heart. Carnal people will, 
 it is true, understand it wrongly ; but it is better that they should 
 believe that virtue is badly rewarded than that it will not be 
 rewarded at all. Indeed, according to their false ideas, it will be 
 rewarded perfectly well. Some libertine will point out to them 
 that false promises are being held out to them. Granted, but 
 perhaps this will help in making them understand that they 
 are mistaken, and that the good things which they value so highly 
 are of little importance, since God distributes them in a manner 
 so little to their liking, so far from falling in with their prejudices. 
 _Assuredly, Aristes, one can hardly speak too much of Providence, 
 even if one were to know nothing of it; for it always calls up 
 in the mind the idea that there is a God who rewards and 
 punishes. A confused idea of Providence is as useful as the 
 idea you have of it, in making most men incline to virtue. It 
 cannot remove the difficulties of infidels ; it cannot be defended 
 without leading to an infinite number of contradictions. That 
 is true. But, then, this would hardly trouble simple people. 
 Faith sustains them, and their humility and simplicity give 
 them sufficient protection from the attacks of the infidels. 
 I believe, therefore, that in our sermons to ordinary people we 
 ought to speak of Providence according to the most common 
 . idea; and that that which Theodore has taught us should be kept 
 in reserve to silence the would-be clever people, and to reassure 
 those who are troubled by consideration of the effects which 
 seem to contradict the divine perfections; assuming also in 
 their case that they are capable of the attention which is neces- 
 sary for the understanding of our principles, since otherwise the 
 
334 THIRTENTH DIALOGUE 
 
 shortest way would be, if they are Christians, to curb them by 
 the authority of Scripture alone. 
 
 ARISTES. I yield, Theotimus. Men must be spoken to accord- 
 ing to their light when they are not in a position to go deeply 
 into things. If we were to criticise the confused ideas which 
 they have of Providence, we should perhaps be the cause of 
 their downfall. It would be easy to embarrass them with 
 the difficulties which they meet. But it would be very 
 difficult to save them from their embarrassment, since too much 
 application is needed for a recognition and understanding of 
 the true principles of Providence. I see all this, Theotimus, 
 and I think that it is mainly because of this that Jesus Christ 
 and the Apostles did not formally teach us the rational grounds 
 of which the theologians avail themselves in supporting the 
 truths of faith. They assumed that enlightened people would 
 know those principles, and that simple-minded people who 
 submit entirely to authority would not need them, and 
 might be disgusted with them and grasp them wrongly through 
 lack of application and intelligence. I am, therefore, quite 
 resolved to leave to men the freedom to speak of Providence 
 in their own way, so long as they do not say anything which 
 is openly in conflict with the divine attributes, so long as they 
 do not assign to God unjust and bizarre designs, and do not 
 make Him act for the purpose of satisfying their unruly inclina- 
 tions. But as for philosophers, and above all as for would-be 
 clever people, I shall assuredly not tolerate their impertinent 
 raillery. I hope I shall have my turn, and that I shall be able 
 
 to embarrass them greatly. They have silenced me several times, _ 
 
 but I shall soon compel them to be silent; for now I have answers 
 to meet all that was most specious and strong in their objections. 
 
 VIII. THEopoRE. Beware, Aristes, of allowing vanity and 
 
 pride to inspire your zeal. Seek no adversaries for the sake of | 
 
 having the glory and the pleasure of defeating them. It is 
 
 truth which ought to be made to triumph over those who have © 
 fought against it. If you set out to confuse them, you will © 
 not win them over, and perhaps they will even confuse you; 
 for I grant you have that wherewith you can silence them, but | 
 only on the assumption that they are willing to listen to reason, — 
 which assuredly they will not do if they feel that you want to 
 
 See 
 
 gain the day. If they mock you, they will have the mockers on i 
 
ON METAPHYSICS | 335 
 
 their side ; if they are frightened, they will spread fear in people’s 
 minds. You will remain alone with your principles, of which 
 no one will understand anything. I advise you, therefore, Aristes, 
 to take these people whom you have in mind and to lay your 
 opinions before them as though you wanted to learn from them 
 what you ought to think about the matter. In order to answer 
 you, it will become necessary for them to inquire, and perhaps 
 they may become convinced by the evidence. Beware, above 
 all, of making them imagine that you are making game of them. 
 Speak as a genuine inquirer, so that they will not recognise 
 your charitable dissimulation. But when you see that the 
 truth has impressed them, fight for it without any fear of their 
 abandoning it. They will look upon it as a possession which 
 belongs to them, and which they have won by their application 
 and work; they will be interested in its defence, not perhaps 
 because they really love it, but because it will come to be identi- 
 fied with their self-respect. In this manner you will bring 
 them over to the side of truth, and you will establish between 
 it and them links of interest which they will not easily break 
 through. Most men look at truth as a very useless acquisition, 
 or rather as something that is embarrassing and inconvenient. 
 But if it is of their own making, and if they look upon it as a 
 possession of which people want to deprive them, they become 
 attached to it and give it such attentive consideration that they 
 can no longer forget it. 
 
 ARISTES. You are right, Theodore. To win people over 
 securely it is necessary to find a way of making amends to their 
 self-respect ; herein lies the secret of success, I shall try strictly 
 to follow your friendly advice. But do you think I have 
 sufficiently mastered your principles to be able to convince 
 others of them, and to meet all their difficulties ? 
 
 THEODORE. If you are determined to adopt the air and 
 manner of a learner in dealing with your people, it is not neces- 
 sary that you should be versed in these principles more exactly. 
 Your people will teach you them just as well as I. 
 
 ARISsTES. How, Theodore, can they teach me just as well 
 as you? 
 
 THEODORE. Better than I, Aristes; you will see that it is so 
 by experience. Remember only the main truths which I have 
 _ explained to you, and with which you ought to relate all the 
 . questions which you will put to them, 
 
336 THIRTEENTH DIALOGUE 
 
 Remember that God can act only in accordance with what 
 He is, only in a way which bears the character of His attributes ; 
 that, therefore, He does not form any designs independently of 
 the means of their realisation, but chooses that work and those 
 means which together will express the perfections, in the posses- 
 sion of which He glories, better than any other work produced 
 in any other way. This, Aristes, is the most general and the 
 most fruitful principle. 
 
 Remember that the more simplicity, uniformity, and gene- 
 rality there is in Providence, other things remaining the same, 
 the more it bears the character of the Divinity ; and that, there- 
 fore, God governs the world by means of general laws, in order 
 to make His wisdom shine forth in the interlinking of causes. 
 
 Remember also that created things do not act upon one 
 another by their own activity, and that God only communicates 
 His power to them because He has made their modifications into 
 occasional causes, determining the exercise of the general laws 
 which He has prescribed for Himself. Everything depends upon 
 this principle. 
 
 IX. The following, Aristes, are the general laws in accord- 
 ance with which God regulates the ordinary course of His 
 Providence :— 
 
 1. The general laws of the communication of motion, of 
 which laws the impact of bodies is the occasional or natural 
 cause. It is by the establishment of these laws that God has 
 communicated to the sun the power to illumine, to fire the 
 power to burn, and so on with regard to the other virtues or 
 powers which bodies have for the purpose of acting upon one 
 another ; and it is by obeying His own laws that God produces 
 everything which the secondary causes seem to produce. 
 
 2. The laws of the conjunction of soul and body, the modifi- 
 cations of which are reciprocally the occasional causes of the 
 changes that occur in them. It is on account of these laws 
 that I have the power to speak, walk, feel, imagine, and so 
 on, and that objects have, through my sense organs, the power 
 of affecting and influencing me. It is by means of these laws 
 that God unites me to all His works. 
 
 3. The laws of the union of the soul with God, with the 
 intelligible substance of the universal Reason, of which laws 
 our attention is the occasional cause. It is because of the 
 
EEE 
 
 ON METAPHYSICS 337 
 
 establishment of these laws that the mind has the power to 
 think of whatever it wishes to think, and of discovering the 
 truth. By means of reason and experience we are apprised of 
 these three laws alone. But the authority of Scripture brings to 
 our knowledge two others, viz. :— 
 
 4. The general laws which give to good and bad angels 
 power over bodies—substances inferior to their nature.t By the 
 exercise of these laws the angels governed the Jewish people, 
 whom they punished and rewarded by means of temporal goods 
 and evils in accordance with the commands they had received 
 from God. By the exercise of these laws devils have still the 
 power to tempt us, and our tutelary angels the power to defend 
 us. The occasional causes of these laws are their practical 
 desires ; for there is a contradiction in supposing that anyone 
 but the Creator of bodies can be their mover. 
 
 5. Finally, the laws through which Jesus Christ received 
 supreme power in heaven and earth, not only over bodies, but 
 over minds; not only to distribute temporal goods, as the 
 angels did to the synagogue, but to diffuse in our hearts the 
 inner grace which makes us children of God, and gives us a right 
 to eternal goods. The occasional causes of these laws are the 
 diverse movements of the saintly soul of Jesus; for our Mediator 
 and sovereign Priest intercedes for us incessantly, and His 
 intercession is always and very promptly hearkened unto. 
 
 These, then, Aristes, are the most general laws of nature and 
 of grace which God follows in the ordinary course of His Provi- 
 dence. By means of these laws He executes His designs in a 
 way which admirably bears the character of His infinite fore- 
 sight, His character of searching all hearts, His immutability and 
 His other attributes. By means of these laws He communicates 
 His power to His creatures and gives them a share in the glory of 
 the work which He accomplishes through their agency. Indeed, 
 it is through this very communication of His power and glory 
 that He does the greatest honour to His attributes ; for an infinite 
 wisdom is necessary in order to make use thus readily of free 
 causes just as much as of necessary ones in the realisation of 
 His designs. 
 
 But though God has prescribed these general laws for Himself, 
 
 1 Cf. the last Eclaircissement du Traité de la Nature et de la Grace and the 
 
 Réponse a la Dissertation de M. Arnauld. 
 2 Cf. Tvaité de la Nature et de la Grace, II. 
 
 22 
 
338 THIRTEENTH DIALOGUE 
 
 as well as some others about which there is no need to speak, 
 as for example the laws whereby the fire of Hell has the power 
 to torment evil spirits, the water of baptism the power to purify 
 us, and formerly the bitter waters of jealousy the power to 
 punish the unfaithfulness of women,? and several others, though 
 God, I say, has prescribed these laws for Himself, and though 
 He never departs without good reasons from the generality of 
 His procedure, yet remember that when He receives more glory 
 in departing from it than in following it, then He never fails 
 to abandon it; for to reconcile the contradictions which appear 
 in the effects of Providence, it is enough that you should main- 
 tain that God usually acts and must act ordinarily in accord- 
 ance with general laws. Keep, therefore, these principles well in 
 mind, and arrange your questions so as to make the persons 
 whom you wish to convert see them. 
 
 ARISTES. I shall do so, Theodore, and I hope I shall succeed 
 in my design ; for all these principles seem to me so evident, so 
 well linked with one another, so much in harmony with what 
 we observe in actual experience, that unless prejudice and 
 passion blind people to the impression which they ought to make 
 on their minds, they will find it difficult to resist them. I 
 thank you for the advice you have given me to make amends to 
 their self-respect, for I see quite well that I should spoil every- 
 thing if I set about it in the way I should have liked to. But, 
 Theodore, assuming that I succeed in my aim and convince 
 them of the truth of our principles, how can I compel them to 
 recognise the authority of the Church? For they are born in 
 heresy, and I should like very much to save them from it. 
 
 THEODORE. Truly, Aristes, that is quite another matter. 
 You are perhaps of the opinion that to convert heretics it is 
 enough to give valid proofs of the infallibility of the Church. 
 The intervention of heaven is necessary, Aristes. For the spirit 
 of faction causes so many secret connections in the hearts of 
 those who are unfortunately engaged in disputes as to blind 
 them and close their eyes to the truth. If anyone were 
 to exhort you to become a Huguenot, assuredly you would not 
 listen to him willingly. Know, therefore, that they perhaps are 
 more ardent than we are, because in the position in which 
 they are at present they exhort one another more often than 
 we do to exhibit firmness. Having an infinite number of 
 
 1 Numb. v. 14. 
 
Ea ere 
 
 ON METAPHYSICS 339 
 
 pledges, unions, prejudices, selfish reasons, which keep them in 
 their sect, what skill must be needed in order to make them 
 give unbiassed consideration to the proofs which might be 
 adduced to show them that they are in error! 
 
 ARISTES. I know, Theodore, that they are extremely sensi- 
 tive with regard to their religion, and however gently one attacks 
 them on this point, all their passions are aroused. But do not 
 fear, for, apart from the fact that those of whom I speak are 
 not so sensitive as many others, I shall adopt the air of a sub- 
 missive learner so well, that in order to answer me they will be 
 compelled to examine the questions which I shall raise. Do but 
 give me some proofs of the infallibility of the Church in con- 
 formity with the idea which you have given me of Providence. 
 
 X. THEODORE. It is certain from Scripture, which the 
 heretics dare not reject, that “‘ God willeth that all men should be 
 saved and come to the knowledge of the truth.’’! It is neces- 
 sary, therefore, to find in the order of Providence reliable means 
 for making all men arrive at a knowledge of the truth. 
 
 ArIsTtEs. I deny this conclusion. God wills that all men 
 should be saved, but He does not will to do all that would be 
 necessary to save them; if He did will it, they would all be 
 saved ; the Chinese and so many other people would not be 
 deprived of the knowledge of the true God and of His Son Jesus 
 Christ, in whom there is eternal life. 
 
 THEODORE. I am not telling you, Aristes, that God wills 
 to do all that would be necessary to save all mankind; He 
 does not will to perform miracles every moment; He does 
 not will to send victorious grace to all hearts. His action 
 must bear the character of His attributes, and He must not 
 depart without good reasons from the generality of His provi- 
 dence. His wisdom does not permit Him always to apportion 
 His aid in accordance with the present needs of the wicked 
 and the foreseen negligence of the just. All mankind would 
 be saved if He acted in this way towards us. I maintain 
 merely that it is necessary to find in Providence general means 
 to correspond with God’s desire that all men should arrive at 
 a knowledge of the truth. Now, this knowledge can be arrived 
 at only in two ways, by investigation or by authority. 
 
 ARISTES. I understand you, Theodore. The method of exami- 
 
 ta. Tim, ii, 4: 
 
340 THIRTEENTH DIALOGUE 
 
 nation, or investigation, answers perhaps to God’s desire to save 
 the cultured, but God desires to save the poor, the simple, the 
 ignorant, those who cannot read as well as our learned critics. 
 And yet I do not see that people like Grotius, Coccejus, 
 Saumaise, Buxtovf, have arrived at that knowledge of the 
 truth which it 1s God’s will we should all arrive at. Perhaps 
 Grotius was nearest toit at the moment when death overtook him. 
 But what! Does Providence look after the salvation of those 
 people only who have enough life as well as understanding and 
 knowledge to distinguish truth from error? Assuredly, this is 
 not likely to be the case. The method of investigation is quite 
 insufficient. Now that man’s reason has been weakened, it must 
 be guided by authority. The method of authority is palpable, 
 certain, general, and answers perfectly to God’s will that all 
 men should attain to the knowledge of truth. But where are 
 we to find this infallible authority, this sure method which we 
 can all follow without fearing any error? The heretics 
 maintain that such authority is to be found only in the sacred 
 writings. 
 
 XI. THEODORE. It is to be found in the sacred writings, 
 but it is by the authority of the Church that we know this. St. 
 Augustine was right in saying that without the Church he would 
 not believe in the Gospel. How does it come about that simple 
 people can be certain that the four gospels which we have 
 possess an infallible authority ? The ignorant have no proofs to 
 show that the gospels were composed by the authors bearing their 
 names, or that they have not been corrupted in essential points ; 
 and I am not aware that scholars have any proofs which are 
 quite certain. But, even if it were certain that the Gospel of 
 St. Matthew, for example, was written by that apostle, and that 
 it is at present precisely as he wrote it, assuredly if we had no 
 infallible authority teaching us that this Evangelist was divinely 
 inspired, we should not be able to rest our faith upon his words 
 as upon the words of God Himself. There are some people 
 who maintain that the divine origin of the sacred writings is 
 so obvious that no one can read them without recognising it. 
 But upon what does this claim rest? Other grounds than 
 mere guesses and prejudices are necessary in order to attribute 
 infallibility to them. It is necessary either that the Holy Spirit 
 should reveal this fact to each individual, or to the Church for 
 
nN gern - 
 
 EE neat, 
 
 — 
 
 
 
 
 
 > - eee i eR Te, eR oe ee Oe CN er a ETT Re SE A, eet ae DT Ae be 
 ET ae Ne AE RT A ee see i Shae ere a 
 
 ON METAPHYSICS | 341 
 
 all individuals. Now, the latter course is much more simple, 
 more general, more worthy of Providence than the former. 
 
 But let us grant that all those who read the Scripture know 
 by a particular revelation that the Gospel is a divine book, 
 and that it has not been corrupted by the malice and negligence of 
 the copyists, who will give us intelligence to understand it? For 
 reason is not enough to enable us always to grasp its true meaning. 
 The Socinians are just as reasonable as other men, and they 
 find in the sacred writings that the Son is not consubstantial 
 with the Father. The Calvinists are men like the Lutherans, 
 and they maintain that the words, ‘‘ Take, eat, this is my body,”’ 
 signify in the passage referred to that what Jesus Christ gave to 
 His apostles was nothing but the symbol of His body. Who 
 will undeceive the former or the latter? Who will guide them 
 to the knowledge of that truth which it is God’s will we should 
 all arrive at? There would become necessary at every moment 
 and for each individual an intervention of the Holy Spirit, which 
 the heretics refuse in the case of the whole Church assembled for 
 the purpose of arriving at decisions. What extravagance, what 
 blindness, what pride! They believe that they understand 
 Scripture better than the Universal Church, which preserves the 
 sacred storehouse of tradition, and which merits a little more 
 than each individual that Jesus Christ, who is its head, should 
 exert Himself in its defence against the powers of Hell. 
 
 XII. Most men believe that God is guiding them by means 
 of a particular Providence, or rather that He is guiding them 
 as well as those for whom they entertain feelings of great 
 respect ; they are inclined to believe that So-and-so is cherished 
 by God to such a degree that he will not be allowed to fall 
 into error, nor they to lead him into it; they ascribe a kind 
 of infallibility to him, and they willingly rely upon the fictitious 
 authority which they have made for themselves by a number 
 of reflections upon the great and excellent qualities of the 
 person in question, in order to avoid in this manner the trouble- 
 some task of investigation. These people are the blind following 
 the blind, and are sure to fall into the precipice with them. All 
 men are liable to error: omnis homo mendax. It is true that we 
 need a visible authority now that we can no longer easily enter 
 into ourselves in order to consult reason, and that there are 
 truths necessary for our salvation which we can learn only by 
 
342 THIRTEENTH DIALOGUE 
 
 revelation. But this authority upon which we must rely ought 
 to be general, and the effect of a general Providence. God does 
 not usually act upon our minds by means of particular volitions 
 in order to prevent us from falling into error. That is not 
 in accord with the ideas which we ought to have of Provi- 
 dence, which must bear the character of the divine attributes. 
 God has entrusted our salvation to the care of our Mediator, 
 but Jesus Christ imitates the procedure of His Father as much 
 as possible by making nature subservient to Grace, and by 
 choosing general means for the accomplishment of His task. 
 He sent His apostles over all the world to declare the truth 
 of the Gospel to all the nations ; He gave His Church bishops, 
 priests, and doctors, and a visible head to govern it; He 
 established the sacraments for the diffusion of His grace into 
 all hearts—a sure indication that He accomplishes His work 
 by methods which are general and furnished to Him by the 
 laws of nature. No doubt Jesus Christ can illumine our minds 
 inwardly without the aid of preaching, but apparently He does 
 not do so. He can regenerate us without baptism, but He 
 does not wish to render His sacraments useless; He will never 
 act upon any person in a particular way without some particular 
 reason, without a kind of necessity. Yet what necessity can 
 there be for enlightening a certain critic so that he may grasp 
 the real meaning of a certain passage of Scripture ? The authority 
 of the Church is enough to prevent us from being led astray ; 
 why should he not submit to it? It is enough for Jesus Christ to 
 preserve the infallibility of the Church, in order to preserve at the 
 same time the faith of all its children who are humble and obedient 
 to their mother. Unhappy the bold and presumptuous who 
 expect Jesus Christ to enlighten them in a particular manner 
 against reason, against the order of His procedure, which He has 
 regulated in accordance with the immutable order! Jesus 
 Christ never fails to help the good in their time of need; He 
 never refuses them the grace which is necessary for overcoming 
 temptation ; He opens their minds when they read the holy 
 writings ; he often rewards their faith by the gift of intelligence ; 
 all this is in conformity with order, and is necessary for their 
 instruction and the edification of the nations. But, for the 
 maintenance of our faith in matters which have been decided, 
 we have the authority of the Church; this is sufficient. He 
 desires us to submit to it. From Him alone can we receive the 
 
q 
 i 
 | 
 
 ee a at Sn 
 
 
 
 ON METAPHYSICS 343 
 
 help that is necessary to overcome temptation. This is the 
 reason why He intercedes incessantly in order to preserve in 
 us our charity; but He does not intercede incessantly in order 
 to prevent the presumptuous from falling into error when 
 reading Scripture, having given us an infallible authority upon 
 which we ought to rely, that, namely, of the Church of the living 
 God, which is the pillar and firm support of truth, columna et 
 firmamentum. veritatis | * 4 
 
 ARISTES. What you are now saying, Theodore, is in perfect 
 accord with the idea which you have given me of Providence. 
 God has His general laws, and our Mediator and Head His rules, 
 which He invariably follows, as God follows His laws, unless the 
 immutable order which is the primordial law of all intelligences 
 demands an exception. It is infinitely simple and more in 
 conformity with reason that Jesus Christ should aid His Church 
 in order to prevent it from falling into error than each individual, 
 and above all than he who has the temerity to call in question 
 matters which have been decided, and who thereby accuses the 
 Saviour of having abandoned His Spouse, or of not having been 
 able to defend her. We need at present an infallible authority. 
 Providence has provided us with one; and this in a way which 
 appears to me worthy of the divine attributes and of the 
 character of our Saviour Jesus Christ, a way which answers 
 perfectly to God’s will that all men should be saved and should 
 attain to the knowledge of truth. 
 
 THEODORE. That is true, Aristes. For the Apostolic and 
 Roman Church is visible and recognisable. It is perpetual for 
 all time and universal for all places; at the least it is a society 
 which is the most exposed to the view of the whole earth and 
 the most venerable on account of its antiquity. None of the 
 particular sects have the stamp of truth upon them, nor any 
 indication of divine origin. Those who at present seem to have 
 some lustre began their course long after the Church. Of this 
 most people are aware, even those who allow themselves to be 
 dazzled by their little lustre which hardly extends beyond the 
 boundaries of their own country. In this way God has pro- 
 vided all men, so far as His general laws permit, with an easy 
 and sure means for arriving at a knowledge of the truth. 
 
 THEOoTIMUS. I donot understand, Aristes, upon what grounds 
 one can call in question the infallibility of the Church of Jesus 
 
 24 Tim, i, 15. 
 
344 THIRTEENTH DIALOGUE 
 
 Christ. Do not the heretics believe that it was divinely insti- 
 tuted, or that it is divinely governed? To doubt its divine 
 inspiration one needs must have no idea of the Church of Jesus 
 Christ, one must look upon it as upon other societies in order to 
 believe that it is liable to error in the decisions at which it 
 arrives for the instruction of its children. Yes, Aristes, there is 
 no one, unless he be strangely prejudiced, who does not see at 
 once that since Jesus Christ is the Head of the Church, since He 
 is its Spouse, its Protector, it is impossible for the doors of Hell 
 to prevail against it, impossible for it to inculcate errors, pro- 
 vided he have that idea of Jesus Christ which he ought to have. 
 For this there is no need to go into much investigation; it is 
 a truth which must stare the simplest and grossest people in 
 the face. An authority is necessary in all societies, of this 
 everybody in convinced. Even the heretics require those of 
 their sect to submit to the decisions of their synods. In truth, 
 a society without any authority is a many-headed monster. 
 Now, the Church is a society divinely instituted to lead mankind 
 to the knowledge of truth. It is clear, therefore, that its authority 
 must be infallible in order that we should be able to arrive at that 
 which it is God’s will we should arrive at, without being com- 
 pelled to follow the perilous and inadequate path of investigation. 
 
 THEODORE. Let us even suppose, Aristes, that Jesus Christ 
 is neither the Head nor the Spouse of the Church, that He does 
 not watch over it, that He is not in its midst to the end of all 
 the generations, in order to defend it against the powers of Hell ; 
 it would then no longer possess that divine infallibility which 
 is the unshakable foundation of our faith. Nevertheless, it seems 
 to me that one must have lost one’s head, or be biased with 
 a prodigious stubbornness, in order to prefer the opinions of 
 the heretics to the decisions of its councils. Let us take an 
 example. We wish to ascertain whether it is the body of Jesus 
 Christ, or the symbol of His body, which is in the Eucharist. 
 We all agree that the apostles knew quite well what it was. 
 We agree that they taught that which it was the duty of all 
 the Churches which they founded to believe. What do we do, 
 then, in order to clear up the point in dispute? We call together 
 the most general assemblies possible. We bring together in one 
 place the best witnesses obtainable of the beliefs of different 
 countries. The bishops know very well whether in the Church 
 over which they preside it is or is not believed that the body of 
 
eee eee ee ee a 
 
 
 
 ON METAPHYSICS 345 
 
 Jesus Christ is in the Eucharist. They are, therefore, asked as 
 to their opinions on the subject. They declare that it is an 
 article of their faith that the bread is changed into the body 
 of Jesus Christ. They pronounce anathema against those who 
 maintain the contrary. The bishops of other Churches who were 
 unable to be present at the assembly give positive approval 
 to the decision ; or, if they happen to have no connection with 
 those of the Council, they are silent, and by their silence testify 
 to their being of the same opinion! Otherwise they would not 
 hesitate to condemn it, for the Greeks do not spare the Latins. 
 This being so, I maintain that even on the assumption that 
 Jesus Christ has abandoned His Church, one needs have bidden 
 farewell to one’s common sense to prefer the opinions of Calvin 
 to that of all those witnesses who attest a fact which it is not 
 possible they could be ignorant of. 
 
 ARISTES. This is most evident. But you will be told that 
 these bishops who cannot be ignorant as to what is believed 
 at present in their Churches on the question of the Eucharist 
 may yet not know what was believed with regard to it a 
 thousand years ago; and that it may be that all the various 
 Churches have unconsciously fallen into error. 
 
 THEODORE. On the assumption that Jesus Christ does not 
 govern His Church, I admit that it might happen that all the 
 Churches, in general, should fall into error; but that they should 
 all fall into the same error is a moral impossibility ; that they 
 should fall into it without history having left striking indica- 
 tions of their disputes is another moral impossibility ; finally, 
 that they should all fall into an error resembling that which 
 the Calvinists impute to us is an absolute impossibility. For 
 what is the decision which the Church has arrived at ? That the 
 body of a man is present at the same time in an infinity of places; 
 that the body of a man is present in such a small portion of 
 space as the Eucharist ; that as soon as the priest has uttered 
 certain words the bread is transformed into the body of Jesus 
 Christ and the wine into His blood. What! I speak as a 
 heretic—are we to believe that this madness, this extravagance 
 has seized the minds of the Christians of all Churches? One 
 must, it seems to me, be mad to maintain this. Never has the 
 same error been generally approved unless it was in general 
 conformity with the dispositions of the mind. All nations were 
 able to adore thesun. Why? Because this star dazzles all men 
 
346 THIRTEENTH DIALOGUE 
 
 generally. But if one mad people adore mice, another will 
 adore cats. If Jesus Christ were to abandon His Church, all 
 Christians could very well fall by degrees into the heresy of 
 Calvin with regard to the Eucharist; for, as a matter of fact, 
 the error is repugnant neither to our reason nor to our senses. 
 But that all the Christian Churches should have adopted an 
 opinion which revolts the imagination, repels the senses, astonishes 
 our reason; all this insensibly, without anyone being aware 
 of the fact,—to maintain this, I say again, one must have 
 renounced one’s common sense, have no knowledge of mankind, 
 and never have given a thought to one’s inner dispositions. 
 But I will grant, Aristes, that God having abandoned His 
 Church, it is possible that all Christians should fall into the 
 same error, a shocking error, and one which is quite contrary to 
 our mental dispositions, and this without anyone having become 
 aware of it; yet I still maintain, notwithstanding this assumption, 
 that we cannot refuse to submit to the decision of the Church, 
 unless we are ridiculously prejudiced. On this assumption, it 
 is possible for the Church to be mistaken. But without any 
 assumption one can prove quite naturally that a particular 
 person may fall into error. It is not a question of a truth which 
 depends upon any metaphysical principles, but of a fact as to 
 what, for example, Jesus Christ meant by the words, “‘ This is 
 my body,’ which one can hardly ascertain in a better way 
 than from the testimony of those who succeeded the apostles. 
 It is alleged that the decision of the Council was contrary to what 
 was formerly believed. Very well. It follows, therefore, that 
 all the bishops together did not know the tradition as well as 
 Calvin. But where are the ancient authors who say to the nations, 
 as they ought to have done: “Take care! these words, ‘ This is 
 my body,’ do not mean that this is the body of Jesus Christ, but 
 only the symbol of His body.’”’ Why do they confirm them in the 
 thought which these clear words naturally engender in our minds, 
 so naturally, indeed, that though nothing seems more incredible 
 than the meaning they convey, all the Churches have believed 
 themselves obliged to accept it? Since the same thing may 
 in different respects be both a symbol and a reality, I admit that 
 there are Fathers who have spoken of the Eucharist as a symbol, 
 For, indeed, the sacrifice of the Mass symbolises or represents 
 that of the Cross. But they ought not to have been satisfied 
 with dwelling upon the symbol; they ought to have rejected 
 
ee Re a a See eer e a al 
 
 
 
 
 
 ON METAPHYSICS 347 
 
 the reality. Nevertheless, the contrary is everywhere seen to 
 be the case. They were afraid lest our faith be shaken through 
 the difficulty there is in believing the reality, and they often 
 reassure us on the authority of Jesus Christ and on the basis 
 of the knowledge we have of the divine power. 
 
 If one confine oneself to saying that the decision of the Council 
 is contrary to reason or good sense, I submit once again that 
 the more it seems to clash with reason and good sense, 
 the more certain it is that it is in conformity with truth. For, 
 after all, were not the men of past generations made in the 
 same way as those of to-day? Our imagination revolts when 
 we are told that the body of Jesus Christ is at the same time 
 in heaven and upon our altars. But, seriously, does one think 
 that there ever has been a generation when men were not struck 
 by so staggering a thought? Nevertheless, this awful mystery 
 was believed by all the Christian Churches. The fact is estab- 
 lished by the testimony of those who ought to know best ; 
 I mean by the voice of the bishops. Men must, therefore, 
 have been instructed by a superior authority, by an authority 
 which they believed to be infallible, and which one sees at once 
 and without any examination to be infallible if one has that idea 
 of Jesus Christ and His Church which one ought to have. 
 Let people, then, assume whatever they like, one need only 
 weigh in one’s own mind what one is to believe when one has, 
 on the one hand, the decision of a Council and, on the other hand, 
 the dogmas of a particular individual or a particular assembly 
 which the Church does not approve. 
 
 ARISTES. I understand, Theodore, from the reasons which 
 you have given me, that those who deny the Church the infalli- 
 bility which is essential to it are not on that account free from 
 the obligation to submit to its decisions. To be freed from or 
 rid of this obligation they must renounce their common sense. 
 Nevertheless, one so often notices that the most common 
 opinions are not the truest, that one is inclined to believe that 
 what a good scholar puts forward is more certain than what 
 one hears from everybody. 
 
 THEODORE. You have put your finger, Aristes, upon one of the 
 main causes of the prejudice and obstinacy of the heretics. They 
 do not sufficiently distinguish between the dogmas of faith and 
 the truths which one can only discover by the work of attention. 
 In all that depends upon abstract principles, not being within the 
 
348 THIRTEENTH DIALOGUE 
 
 reach of everybody, good sense demands that we should distrust 
 what the multitude believes. It is infinitely more likely that 
 a single man who applies himself seriously to the search after 
 truth will find it than a million others who do not even give 
 it a thought. It is true, therefore, and has often been noted 
 that the most common opinions are not the truest. But 
 in matters of faith quite the contrary holds good. The more | 
 witnesses there are to attest a fact the more certainty does this 
 fact possess. The dogmas of religion are not acquired by specula- 
 tion, but by authority, by the testimony of those who keep 
 the sacred storehouse of tradition. What the whole world 
 believes, what has always been believed, that it is necessary to 
 believe eternally. For in matters of faith, of revealed truths, 
 of decided dogmas, the most common opinions are the true ones. 
 Yet the desire to distinguish themselves causes people to call in 
 question what everybody believes, and to regard as unquestionable 
 what ordinarily passes for very uncertain. Their self-love is not 
 satisfied when they do not excel other people, and when they 
 know only what no one is ignorant of. Instead of building 
 solidly upon the foundations of faith, and by humility raising 
 themselves to an understanding of the sublime truths to which 
 it leads ; instead of earning in this manner, both before God and 
 all equitable people, a true and solid glory, they find a malignant 
 pleasure and an occasion of vainglory in disturbing the sacred 
 foundations, and are thus imprudently striking against that 
 rock which will crush all those who have the insolence to dash 
 themselves against it. 
 
 ARISTES. I have now, Theodore, more than is necessary 
 for interrogating my people, and for guiding them whither I 
 have long since wished to guide them. If the Church is 
 divinely governed, it must be divinely inspired. If Jesus Christ 
 is its Head, it cannot become the mistress of error. God, 
 desiring all men to attain to a knowledge of truth, cannot 
 have left to the discussions of the human intellect the faith which 
 leads to it. His Providence must have found a way which was 
 certain and easy for ordinary people as well as for the learned. 
 Particular revelations made to all those who read Scripture 
 are not in harmony with the idea which we ought to have of 
 the divine Providence. Experience teaches us that each person 
 interprets it in accordance with his prejudices. Finally, even 
 assuming that Jesus Christ does not govern His Church, one 
 

 
 ON METAPHYSICS 349 
 
 cannot, unless one is singularly prejudiced, prefer the particular 
 opinions of some sect or other to the decisions of a Council. All 
 this, Theodore, seems to me evident. I am no longer afraid of 
 anything except obstinacy in my friends, and I am only looking 
 for some good ways of making amends to their self-respect ; for 
 I am very much afraid of not possessing the manners which 
 are needed to free them from undertakings of all kinds to which 
 I may find they have pledged themselves. 
 
 THEODORE. You have, Aristes, all that is needed for this 
 purpose. Courage! You know but too well how to manage 
 men, what provokes them, and what makes them run away. 
 We must hope that what is likely to hinder them will be broken 
 down by grace,—I mean those secret links which you cannot 
 undo. While you are speaking to their ears, perhaps God in 
 His loving kindness will touch their hearts. 
 
FOURTEENTH DIALOGUE 
 
 The same continued—The incomprehensibility of our mysteries is a con- 
 clusive proof of their truth—Elucidation of the dogmas of faith— 
 The incarnation of Jesus Christ—Proof of His divinity against the 
 Socinians—All creatures, even the angels, are able to worship God 
 through His aid alone—Faith in Jesus Christ renders us acceptable 
 before God. 
 
 I. ArtstEs. Ah, Theodore, how can I open my heart to 
 you, how express my joy, how make you feel the happy state 
 to which you have brought me? At present I resemble a man 
 saved from a shipwreck, or one finding everything calm after 
 a storm. I have often felt myself disturbed by dangerous move- 
 ments, at the sight of our incomprehensible mysteries. Their 
 profundity has frightened me, their obscurity overwhelmed me; 
 and, though my heart has yielded to the strength of authority, it 
 has done so not without difficulty on the part of the intellect ; 
 for, as you know, the intellect is naturally apprehensive in 
 darkness. But now I find that everything within me is in accord, 
 the intellect follows the heart. Indeed, the intellect leads, the 
 intellect carries the heart with it, for, paradoxical as it may 
 seem, the more obscure our mysteries are, the more credible 
 they now appear to me. Yes, Theodore, I find even in the 
 obscurity of our mysteries, received as they are by so many 
 different nations, an invincible proof of their truth. 
 
 How, for example, can we reconcile the Unity of God with 
 the Trinity—a society of three different persons in the perfect 
 simplicity of the divine nature? It is incomprehensible, cer- 
 tainly, but it is not incredible. It is beyond us, it is true; 
 but granted a little good sense and we shall believe it, at least 
 if we want to be of the same religion as the apostles; for, after 
 all, assuming that they did not know this ineffable mystery, 
 or that they did not teach it to their successors, I maintain 
 that it is impossible that so extraordinary an opinion should 
 
 have found that universal credence which is attached to 
 350 
 

 
 
 
 Pn ees = 
 Pee ee 
 
 ON METAPHYSICS 351 
 
 it in the whole Church, and among so many different nations. 
 The more monstrous—to allow an expression of the enemies 
 of the faith—the adorable mystery appears, the more it clashes 
 with human reason, the more it staggers the imagination, the 
 more obscure, incomprehensible, impenetrable it is, the less 
 credible is it that it should have insinuated itself naturally into 
 the minds and hearts of all the Catholics of so many countries, 
 so distant from one another. I understand, Theodore; never 
 are the same errors universally diffused everywhere, especially 
 not those errors which shock the imagination, which have 
 nothing sensuous about them, and which seem to contradict 
 the simplest and most common notions. 
 
 If Jesus Christ did not watch over His Church, the number 
 of Unitarians would soon exceed that of the true Catholics. 
 This I see, for there is nothing in the opinions of these heretics 
 which is not naturally acceptable to the mind. I understand 
 quite well that opinions which are in harmony with our intelli- 
 gences may in time become established. I can even see that the 
 most fantastic opinions may prevail with certain people possessed 
 of a peculiar turn of the imagination. But that a truth which 
 is so sublime, so far removed from the senses, so opposed to 
 human reason—in a word, so contrary to the whole of nature 
 as this great mystery of our faith—that a truth of this kind 
 should be so universally diffused and should be triumphant 
 among all the nations to whom the apostles have preached the 
 Gospel, especially if we assume that these first preachers of our 
 faith knew nothing of this mystery, is assuredly inconceivable, 
 however little one knows of the human mind. 
 
 That there should be heretics who are opposed to a dogma so 
 sublime I am not at all surprised at. I should be not a little sur- 
 prised if no one had ever disputedit. It is far from being the case 
 that this truth has never been attacked. That may be. People 
 will always make a merit of attacking whatever seems to offend 
 against reason. But that, after all, the mystery of the Trinity 
 should have prevailed, that it should have maintained itself 
 everywhere where the religion of Jesus Christ is accepted, without 
 its having been known and taught by the apostles, without any 
 authority and divine power, only a little good sense is needed, 
 it seems to me, to recognise that nothing is more unlikely than 
 this; for it is not even likely that so divine a dogma, so much 
 above reason, so far removed from any that can strike the 
 
352 FOURTEENTH DIALOGUE 
 
 imagination and the senses, should come naturally to the mind 
 of anyone. 
 
 IJ. THEODORE. Assuredly, Aristes, your mind can be quite at 
 peace, since you now are able to extract the light from the darkness 
 itself, and transform into a clear proof of our mysteries the im- 
 penetrable obscurity whichenvelops them. Let the Socinians blas- 
 pheme against our holy religion, let them turn it to ridicule; this 
 blasphemy and this ridicule which they think they are heaping 
 upon it will but inspire you with respect for it. What to others 
 is a cause of disturbance cannot but strengthen you. How can 
 you help but enjoy a profound peace? For, after all, that 
 which could arouse in us fear and anxiety does not consist in 
 those plausible truths which everybody believes without difficulty, 
 but the profundity and impenetrability of our mysteries. 
 I understand, therefore, how it is that you are quite at peace. 
 Enjoy this peace, my dear Aristes. But let us not, I pray you, 
 judge of the Church of Jesus Christ as of purely human societies ; 
 it has a Head who will never permit it to become the mistress 
 of error; its infallibility rests*upon the divinity of Him who 
 guides it. We must not conclude solely by the rules of good 
 sense that such and such mysteries cannot be inventions of the 
 human mind. We have a decisive authority, another way both 
 shorter and more certain than that kind of examination. Let 
 us humbly follow this way, so as to render honour, by our confi- 
 dence and submission, to the power, vigilance, lovingkindness, 
 and other qualities of the supreme Shepherd of our souls ; for it 
 is in a manner to blaspheme against the divinity of Jesus Christ, 
 or against His love of His spouse, to demand absolutely other 
 proofs of the truths necessary to our salvation than those 
 which we derive from the authority of the Church. 
 
 If, Aristes, you believe a certain article of our faith because, 
 on the ground of an examination instituted by you, you recognise 
 that it is an Apostolic tradition, you honour by your faith the 
 mission and apostleship of Jesus Christ ; for your faith expresses — 
 the judgment which you arrive at that God sent Jesus Christ 
 into the world in order to teach us the truth. But if your 
 belief is based upon this reason alone, without regard to the in- 
 fallible authority of the Church, you are not rendering honour to 
 the wisdom and generality of the Providence which furnishes 
 the simple and ignorant with a sure and natural means for 
 

 
 
 
 ON METAPHYSICS 353 
 
 acquiring the truths which are necessary to salvation. You 
 are not honouring the power, or at least the vigilance, of 
 Jesus Christ over His Church; it would seem that you suspect 
 Him of being willing to abandon it to the spirit of error; 
 so that the faith of those who humbly submit to the authority 
 of the Church does greater honour to God and to Jesus Christ 
 than your faith, since it expresses more exactly the divine 
 attributes and the character of our Mediator. Add to this that it 
 is in perfect accord with the opinion which we ought to have of 
 the weakness and limitation of our intellect ; and that, if on the 
 one hand it expresses our faith in God and in the love of Jesus 
 Christ, it indicates clearly, on the other hand, that we have a 
 right and salutary distrust of ourselves. Thus you see quite 
 well that the faith of him who submits to the authority of the 
 Church is very acceptable to God, since from whatever point 
 of view we consider it, it expresses the judgments which 
 God desires we should have of His own attributes, of the 
 character of Jesus Christ, and of the limitation of the human 
 intellect. 
 
 III. Nevertheless, remember, Aristes, that the humble and 
 submissive faith of those who yield to authority is neither blind 
 nor injudicious; it is based on reason. Assuredly, infallibility 
 is contained in the idea of a divine religion, of a society which 
 has for its Head a being subsisting in the eternal Wisdom, a society 
 established for the salvation of the simple and ignorant. Good 
 sense, so it seems to me, demands that we should believe the 
 Church to be infallible. We must, therefore, submit implicitly to 
 its authority. But this is so only because reason tells us that there 
 is no danger in submitting to it, and that the Christian who 
 refuses to do so belies by his refusal the opinion which he ought 
 to have of the character of Jesus Christ. 
 
 Our faith is perfectly reasonable in its principle ; it does not 
 owe its institution to prejudice, but to right reason, for Jesus 
 Christ has proved His mission and His character in an incontest- 
 able way ; His glorious resurrection is so well attested that one 
 must needs renounce all claim to common sense to call it in 
 question. Nowadays truth does not make itself respected by 
 the brilliant lustre and the majesty of miracles; for it is 
 maintained by the authority of Jesus Christ, who is recognised 
 as infallible, and who has promised His omnipotent assistance 
 
 23 
 
354 FOURTEENTH DIALOGUE 
 
 and tender vigilance to the divine society of which He is the 
 Head. Let the faith of the Church be contested by the different 
 heresies of the particular sects; this is bound to happen in order 
 to manifest the fidelity of the good. The vessel in which 
 Jesus Christ reposes may perhaps be tempest-tost, but it 
 incurs no danger. To fear the storm is to lack faith; the winds 
 must roar and the sea swell its torrents before subsiding to a 
 calm. Otherwise it would not be possible to make the power 
 which one has of commanding them felt. But if the Lord 
 permits the powers of hell to... 
 
 THEOTIMUS. Permit me to interrupt you, Theodore. You 
 know that we have only the rest of this day to spend with you. 
 We have already had only too much about the infallibility of the 
 Church. Aristes is convinced of it. Give us, I beg of you, 
 some principles which might guide us to an understanding of 
 the truths which we believe, which might increase in us the pro- 
 found respect which we ought to have for the Christian religion 
 and morality, or perhaps give us some idea of the method which ~ 
 you would pursue in so sublime a matter. 
 
 IV. THEODORE. I have no particular method for this purpose. 
 I judge of things only by the ideas which represent them depend- 
 ently upon the facts which are known to me. That is my whole 
 method. The principles of my knowledge are all in my ideas, and 
 the rules of my conduct, so far as religion is concerned, in the 
 truths of faith. My entire method resolves itself into serious 
 attention to what enlightens me and guides me. 
 
 ARISTES. I do not know whether Theotimus understands 
 what you are saying, but as for me, I do not understand it at 
 all. It is too general. 
 
 THEODORE. I believe Theotimus understands me well enough. 
 But a little more explanation is needed. I always distinguish care- 
 fully the dogmas of faith from the proofs and explanations which 
 may be given of them. As for the dogmas, I find them in 
 tradition and the consent of the universal Church, and I find 
 them indicated better in the definitions of the Councils than any- 
 where else. I think you will agree with this: since the Church 
 is infallible, we must abide by what it decides. 
 
 ARISTES. But do you not findthem also in the Holy Scriptures ? 
 
 THEODORE. I believe, Aristes, that the safest and shortest 
 course is to search for them in the Holy Scriptures, but as explained 
 

 
 
 
 ON METAPHYSICS 855 
 
 by tradition, I mean by the general Councils, or as generally 
 accepted everywhere, explained by the same spirit that dictated 
 them. I know quite well that Scripture is a divine book and 
 the rule of our faith, but I do not separate it from tradition, 
 because I do not doubt but that the Councils have interpreted it 
 better than I can do. You must give a fair latitude to what I 
 am saying. The Councils do not reject Scripture; they accept 
 it with respect, and thereby they establish its authenticity for 
 the faithful who might well confuse it with the apocryphal 
 books. But, apart from this, they teach us several truths which 
 the apostles have confided to the Church, and which have been 
 disputed, which truths are not easily discovered in the canonical 
 Scriptures; for how many heretics find quite the contrary in 
 them? In a word, Aristes, I try to be quite sure about the dogmas 
 upon which I want to meditate with a view of attaining to some 
 understanding of them; and then I use my intellect in the same 
 way as those who study physics. I consult with all the attention 
 I can the idea which I have of my subject as it is presented to 
 me by faith. I go back continually to what seems to me the most 
 general and the most simple in order to obtain some light. 
 When I do, I contemplate it ; but I follow it only to the extent 
 to which it attracts me irresistibly by the force of its evidence, 
 The least obscurity causes me to fall back upon my dogma, 
 which—in the fear I have of error—inevitably is and always 
 will be my rule in questions which concern faith. 
 
 Those who study physics never argue against experience; 
 but neither do they argue on the ground of experience against 
 reason; they hesitate, not seeing the way of passing from one 
 to the other; they hesitate, I say, not as regards the certainty 
 of experience or the evidence of reason, but as to the way of 
 reconciling the one with the other. The facts of religion or 
 decided dogmas are my experiences in matters of theology. 
 Never do I call them in question, they furnish me with rules and 
 with guidance to intelligence. But, when believing myself to be 
 following them, I feel myself in conflict with reason, I stop short, 
 fully aware that the dogmas of faith and the principles of reason 
 must, in truth, be in harmony with one another, however 
 opposed they appear to be in my mind. I abide, then, by my 
 submission to authority, full of respect for reason, but con- 
 vinced of the weakness of my intellect and in continual distrust 
 of myself. Finally, if enthusiasm for truth is kindled anew, I 
 
356 FOURTEENTH DIALOGUE 
 
 begin my researches once more; and, by alternately attending 
 to the ideas which enlighten me and the dogmas which sustain 
 and guide me, I discover, without having recourse to any other 
 peculiar method, the means of transition from faith to under- 
 standing. Yet usually, fatigued by my efforts, I leave to 
 people who are more enlightened and capable of greater appli- 
 cation than I am an investigation which I think myself incapable 
 of carrying out; and the only reward which I derive from my 
 work is that I am continually realising more and more clearly 
 the smallness of my own mind, the profundity of our mysteries, 
 and the great need which we all have of an authority to guide 
 us. Well, Aristes, are you content ? 
 
 ARISTES. Not overmuch. All that you are saying is still so 
 general that it seems to me you are not teaching me anything 
 whatever. Examples, if you please; reveal some truth to me, 
 in order that I may just see how you set about finding it. 
 
 THEODORE. What truth ? 
 
 ARISTES. The fundamental truth of our religion. 
 
 THEODORE. But this truth is already known to you, and 
 I believe I have already amply demonstrated it to you. 
 
 ARISTES. It does not matter. Let us see. One cannot 
 give too much proof of it. It is from it that we must begin. 
 
 THEOTIMUs. That is true; but will it be with that that we 
 shall finish ; for soon we must part ? 
 
 ARISTES. I hope also that it will not be long before we meet 
 again. 
 
 V. THEODORE. I cannot say, for I desire it so much that 
 I am afraid it will not come to pass; but let us not argue 
 about the future, let us benefit by the present. Attend to what 
 I am going to put before you. 
 
 In order to discover by means of reason among all the religions 
 the one which God has established, we must consider atten- 
 tively the notion which we have of God or the infinitely 
 perfect Being; for it is clear that all that is accomplished by 
 any causes must stand in some relation to that notion. Let us, 
 then, Aristes, consult the notion of the infinitely perfect Being, 
 and let us mentally pass in review all that we know of the 
 divine attributes, since it is from this source that we must 
 obtain the light which we need in order to discover what we are 
 in search of. 
 

 
 
 
 ON METAPHYSICS 357 
 
 ARISTES. Well, and this having been done ? 
 
 THEODORE. Gently, gently, I beg of you. God knows 
 perfectly those attributes which I am assuming to be present 
 to your mind. He glories in their possession. He takes an 
 infinite pleasure in them. He can, therefore, only act in accord- 
 ance with what He is, only in a way which bears the char- 
 acter of these same attributes. Notice this carefully ; for it is 
 the great principle which we must follow when we wish to know 
 what God does or does not do. Men do not always act in 
 accordance with what they are, but this is because they are 
 ashamed of themselves. I knew a miser whom you would have 
 taken for the most liberal man in the world. Be not, therefore, 
 misled ; men do not always express in their actions, still less 
 in their words, the opinion which they have of themselves, 
 because they are not what they ought to be. But it is not so 
 in the case of God. The infinitely perfect Being cannot but 
 act in accordance with what He is. When He acts He necessarily 
 gives outward expression to His eternal and immutable judg- 
 ment regarding His attributes, because He feels satisfaction in 
 them and glories in their possession. 
 
 ARISTES. That isevident ; but I do not see whither all these 
 generalities tend. 
 
 VI. THEODORE. To this, Aristes, that God only gives perfect 
 expression to His judgment regarding Himself in the incarna- 
 tion of His Son, the consecration of His Pontiff, the establish- 
 ment of the religion which we profess, in which alone He can 
 find the worship and adoration which express His divine attributes 
 and which are in harmony with His judgment of them. When 
 God created chaos out of nothing, He said, ““I am the Om- 
 nipotent.” When He made the universe, He delighted in His 
 wisdom. When He created man free, capable of good and evil, 
 He gave utterance to a judgment of His justice and goodness. 
 But in joining His Word to His Work, He expressed the fact 
 that He was infinite in all His attributes, that this great universe 
 is as nothing to Him, that everything is profane in relation 
 to His holiness, His excellence, His sovereign majesty. In a 
 word, He speaks as a God, He acts in accordance with what He 
 is and in accordance with all that He is. Compare, Aristes, our 
 religion with that of the Jews, of the Mohammedans and of all the 
 others that you know, and judge which is that which expresses 
 
358 FOURTEENTH DIALOGUE 
 
 most distinctly the judgment which God has and which we ought 
 to have of His attributes. 
 ARISTES. Ah, Theodore, I understand you. 
 
 VII. THEODORE. Yes, I suppose so. But note this: God is 
 Spirit, and desires to be worshipped in spirit andin truth. True 
 worship does not consist in external matters, in certain positions 
 of our bodies, but in certain attitudes of our mind, in the pre- 
 sence of the divine majesty, that is to say, in the judgments and 
 movements of the soul. Now, he who offers the Son to the 
 Father, who adores God through Jesus Christ, gives utterance 
 through his action to a judgment resembling that which God 
 has of Himself. Out of all the judgments he gives utterance 
 to that one most exactly expresses the divine perfections, 
 and above all the infinite excellence and holiness which separates 
 the divine from all besides and lifts it infinitely above all created 
 things. Faith in Jesus Christ is, therefore, the true religion, 
 approach to God through Jesus Christ the only true worship, the 
 only way of putting our minds into an attitude of adoration 
 of God, the only way, consequently, which can win for us looks 
 of pleasure and benevolence from the author of the happiness for 
 which we hope. 
 
 He who gives his goods to the poor, or who risks his 
 life for the safety of his country, even he who loses his life 
 generously in order to avoid committing an injustice, knowing 
 well that God is sufficiently powerful to reward him for his 
 self-sacrifice, expresses in truth by his action a judgment which 
 honours the divine justice, and which renders it favourable 
 towards him; but this action, meritorious though it be, does not 
 adore God perfectly, if he whom I am assuming to be capable 
 of performing it refuses to believe in Jesus Christ, and claims 
 to be able to approach God without His mediation. The opinion 
 which this man by his refusal has of himself, namely, that he is 
 worth something in relation to God, being directly opposed to 
 the judgment which God gives utterance to, by the mission 
 and consecration of His Pontiff,—this presumptuous opinion 
 renders useless for his eternal salvation an action otherwise 
 meritorious. For, in order fairly to merit the title to possession of 
 an infinite good, it is not enough to give expression by means 
 of some morally good deeds to the justice of God ; it is necessary 
 divinely to pronounce by faith in Jesus Christ a judgment which 
 
% 
 
 ON METAPHYSICS 359 
 
 shall honour God in accordance with all that He is; for it is 
 only by the merit of this faith that our good deeds receive that 
 supernatural excellence which gives us a right to the heritage 
 of the children of God. It is, indeed, only by the merit of this 
 faith that we can secure the power to conquer our dominant 
 passions and to sacrifice our life from a pure love of justice. 
 Our actions owe their moral character to the relation in which 
 they stand to the immutable order, and their merit to the 
 judgments which we express by means of them of the divine power 
 and justice. But they owe their supernatural worth and, so 
 to speak, their infinity and divinity to Jesus Christ alone, whose 
 incarnation, sacrifice and priesthood indicating clearly that 
 there is no relation between the Creator and the creature, 
 establish thereby so great a relationship that God is perfectly 
 pleased and glorified in His work. Do you understand quite 
 clearly, Aristes, what I can express in but an imperfect 
 manner ? 
 
 VIII. Artstes. I think I understand. There is no relation 
 between the infinite and the finite. This perhaps may pass 
 for an axiom. The universe compared with God is as naught, 
 and must count for naught; but only Christians, only those 
 who believe in the divinity of Jesus Christ, attach no value 
 to their own being and to this vast universe which we admire. 
 Perhaps philosophers are of this opinion. But they do not give 
 it utterance. On the contrary, they give the lie to this specula- 
 tive opinion by their actions. They dare to approach God as 
 though they did not know that the distance between Him and 
 ourselves is infinite. They imagine that God is satisfied with 
 the profane worship they offer Him. They have the insolence, 
 or, if you like, the presumption to adore Him. Let them be 
 silent. Their respectful silence will express better than their 
 words do the speculative judgments which they form of what they 
 are in relation to God. To Christians alone is it permitted to 
 open their mouths in divine praise of the Lord. To them alone 
 access is granted to the sovereign Majesty. For they regard 
 themselves and the rest of the universe as nothing in relation 
 to God, when they protest that it is only through Jesus 
 Christ that they enter into any relation with Him, This anni- 
 hilation to which their faith reduces them gives them a veritable 
 reality before God. This judgment which they express in 
 
360 FOURTEENTH DIALOGUE 
 
 harmony with God Himself attaches an infinite value to their 
 worship. Everything is profane as compared with God, and 
 must be consecrated by the divinity of the Son to be worthy 
 of the holiness of the Father, to merit His kindness and 
 benevolence. Such is the unshakable foundation of our holy 
 religion. 
 
 IX. THEODORE. Certainly, Aristes, you understand my thought 
 well enough. From the finite to the infinite, and, what is more, 
 from the profound nothingness to which the Fall has reduced us, 
 to the divine holiness, to the right hand of the Most High, the 
 distance isinfinite. By nature we are but the children of wrath— 
 “natura filii ire.’’ We should be as atheists in this world 
 without a God, without a benefactor: ‘“‘sine Deo in hoc 
 mundo.”! But through Jesus Christ behold we are come to life 
 again, behold us lifted up and seated in the highest heaven, 
 “He hath quickened us together with Christ, and hath raised us 
 up with Him and made us sit with Him in heavenly places, in 
 Christ Jesus.’ At present we do not feel our adoption in Jesus 
 
 Christ, our worth, our divinity: ‘‘partakers of the divine © 
 
 nature.’’3 But this is because our life is hid with Jesus Christ 
 in God. When Jesus Christ reappears, we also shall appear with 
 Him in glory, “‘ we know that when He shall appear, we shall be 
 like Him.’4 “‘ Your life,” says St. Paul,5 ‘is hid with Christ in 
 God. When Christ, who is our life, shall appear, then shall ye 
 also appear with Him in glory.”’ There will no longer be between 
 us and the divine being that infinite distance which has separated 
 us: ‘‘ But now in Christ Jesus ye who sometimes were far off 
 are made nigh by the blood of Christ. For He is our peace.”’ 6 
 For through Jesus Christ we all have access to the Father. 
 “For through Him we both have access by one Spirit unto 
 the Father.’’7 Now, therefore [listen further to the conclusion 
 of the apostle], “‘ ye are no more strangers and foreigners, but 
 fellow citizens with the saints, and of the household of God; 
 and are built upon the foundation of the apostles and prophets ; 
 Jesus Christ Himself being the chief corner stone. In whom all 
 the building fitly framed together groweth unto a holy temple 
 in the Lord. In whom ye also are builded together for 
 
 t Eph. il. 3, 12. a Ibid, ii. 5, 6. sta) Pet, ita. 4 1 Johniii. 2 
 § Col. iii. 3, 4. 6 Eph. ii. 13, 14. 7? Ibid, 18. 
 
ON METAPHYSICS 361 
 
 a habitation of God in the Spirit.”! Weigh all these 
 words, Aristes, and especially these: ‘‘in whom all the build- 
 ing fitly framed together groweth unto a holy temple in 
 the Lord.” 
 
 ARISTES. Only the Man-God, Theodore, can unite the creature 
 with the Creator, sanctify the profane and construct a temple 
 wherein God can dwell with honour. I understand now the 
 meaning of the words: “God was in Christ reconciling the world 
 unto Himself.”"2 It is a common notion that between the finite 
 and the infinite there is no relation. Everything depends upon 
 this indisputable principle. Any creed which ignores this principle 
 shocks our reason and brings dishonour on the Divine Being. The 
 eternal Wisdom cannot be its author. Only pride, ignorance, 
 or at any rate the stupidity of the human mind can now 
 approve of it; for the religion of Jesus Christ alone expresses 
 the judgment which God has and which we ought to have of 
 the limitations of the creature and the supreme Majesty of the 
 Creator. 
 
 THEODORE. What say you then, Aristes, of the Socinians and 
 Arians and all those false Christians who deny the divinity of 
 Jesus Christ, and who claim nevertheless to have access to 
 God through Him ? 
 
 ARISTES. They are people who find some relation between 
 the infinite and the finite, and who look upon themselves as of 
 some value when compared with God. 
 
 THEOTIMUS. Not at all, Aristes, since they recognise that 
 it is through Jesus Christ alone that they win access to 
 God. 
 
 ARISTES. Yes, but their Jesus is nothing but pure creature. 
 They do, therefore, find some relation between the finite and 
 the infinite, and they utter this false judgment, this judgment 
 so offensive to the Divine Being, when they adore God through 
 Jesus Christ. How can the Jesus of these heretics give them 
 access to the divine majesty—he who is himself infinitely distant 
 from God? How can he establish a worship which shall make 
 us give utterance to the judgments which God has of Himself and 
 which shall express the holiness, divinity, infinity, of His essence? 
 Every worship based upon such a Jesus assumes, Theotimus, some 
 relation between the infinite and the finite, and lowers the 
 divine majesty. It is a false worship, offensive to God, incapable 
 
 1 Eph, il. 19-22, a 2Cor. v. 19. 
 
362 FOURTEENTH DIALOGUE 
 
 of reconciling Him with mankind. There can be no religion but 
 that which is based upon the only Son of the Father, upon 
 this Man-God who joins heaven and earth, the finite and 
 the infinite, through the incomprehensible harmony of the 
 two natures, which makes Him at the same time like to His 
 Father and resembling ourselves. This seems to me evident. 
 
 X. THEOTIMUS. It is clear, I admit. But what shall we 
 say of the angels? Did they wait to glorify God until Jesus 
 Christ was at their head ? 
 
 ARISTES. Let us not abandon, Theotimus, what appears to 
 us to be evident, whatever difficulty we may find in reconciling 
 it with certain things which we hardly know. Reply for me, 
 Theodore, I beg of you. 
 
 THEODORE. The angels did not wait for Jesus Christ, for Jesus 
 Christ was before them. He is the firstborn of all creatures, 
 primogemitus omnis creaturae.t It is not two thousand years 
 since He was born at Bethlehem, but it is six thousand 
 since He was sacrificed. Agnus occisus est ab ongine mundt. 2 
 How is that? It is because the first of God’s designs was the 
 incarnation of His Son, because it is in Him alone that God 
 receives the adoration of the angels, that He permitted the sacrifice 
 of the Jews, and that He receives and will receive our praises 
 eternally. ‘‘ Jesus Christ, the same yesterday, and to-day and 
 for ever.’’3 Everything expresses and symbolises Jesus Christ. 
 Everything is in its way related to Him, from the noblest of 
 all intelligent minds to the most despised of insects. When 
 Jesus Christ was born at Bethlehem the angels glorified the Lord. 
 They all sang in one accord, ‘‘ Glory to God in the highest.” 4 
 They all declared that it was through Jesus Christ that heaven 
 was full of glory. But it is to us that they declared this, to 
 us to whom the future is not present. They have always pro- 
 tested to Him who is immutable in His designs and who sees His 
 works before they are accomplished that they need a Pontiff in 
 order to give Him divine adoration. They recognised as their 
 head the Saviour of men even before His temporal birth. They 
 always regarded themselves as nothing when compared with God, 
 except perhaps those proud angels who were thrown into Hell 
 because of their pride. 
 
 Col. i. 15. a Rev.. xiii. 8. 
 3 Heb. xiii. 8. 4 Luke ii, 14 
 
ON METAPHYSICS 363 
 
 ARISTES. You recall to my mind the chant of the Church 
 when all is ready for the offering of sacrifice to God, Per quem 
 majestatem tuam laudant angeli, adorant dominationes, tremunt 
 potestates, etc. The priest raises his voice in order to lift up our 
 souls to heaven: sursum corda, to teach us that it is through 
 Jesus Christ that even the angels adore the divine majesty, and 
 to induce us to join with them under the divine head, so as to 
 constitute but one choir of praise and to be able to say 
 to God: Sanctus, sanctus, sanctus, Dominus Deus Sabaoth! 
 Plent sunt coeli et terra gloria tua. Heaven and earth 
 are full of the glory of God, but only through Jesus 
 Christ, the Pontiff of the Most High. Through Him alone 
 the creatures, however excellent they be, are able to 
 adore God, pray to Him, and render thanks to Him for His 
 goodness. 
 
 THEOTIMUS. It is, assuredly, in Jesus Christ that everything 
 has its being, since without Him even heaven is not worthy 
 of the Majesty of the Creator. The angels can in themselves 
 have no relation, access, or communion with the Infinite Being. 
 It is necessary that Jesus Christ should intervene, and that He 
 should pacify heaven as well as earth—in a word, that He should 
 reconcile all things in general with God. It is true that He is 
 not the Saviour of angels in the same sense as He is the Saviour 
 of men. He did not deliver them from their sins as He did us. 
 But He did deliver them from the incapacity that naturally 
 attaches to all creatures of having any relation with God and of 
 rendering to God divine honour. Heis, therefore, their Head just 
 as He is ours, their Mediator, their Saviour, since it is only through 
 Him that they subsist and that they approach the infinite Majesty 
 of God, and that in accord with God Himself they can give utter- 
 ance to the judgments which they have of His holiness. It seems to 
 me that St. Paul had this truth in mind when he wrote those most 
 divine words to the Colossians: ‘‘ Who hath delivered us from 
 the power of darkness, and hath translated us into the kingdom 
 of His dear Son: in whom we have redemption through His 
 blood, even the forgiveness of sins: who is the image of the 
 invisible God, the firstborn of every creature ; for by Him were 
 all things created, that are in heaven and that are in earth, visible 
 and invisible, whether they be thrones, or dominions, or princi- 
 palities, or powers: all things were created by Him; and He 
 is before all things, and in Him all things consist. And He is 
 
364 FOURTEENTH DIALOGUE 
 
 the head of the body, the Church: who is the beginning, the 
 firstborn from the dead; that in all things He might have the 
 preeminence. For it pleased the Father that in Him should 
 all fulness dwell ; and having made peace through the blood of His 
 Cross, by Him to reconcile all things unto Himself; by Him, I 
 say, whether they be things in earth or things in heaven.”! How 
 excellent these words are and how nobly they express the great 
 idea which we ought to have of our holy religion ! 
 
 XI. ArIsTES. It is true, Theotimus, that this passage of St. 
 Paul, and perhaps many others, is in perfect agreement with 
 what we have just said, but we must admit in good faith that the 
 great motive which Scripture ascribes to God for the incarnation 
 of His Son is His loving kindness to men: ‘“‘ For God so loved 
 the world,’ says St. John, “that He gave His only begotten 
 Son.”” There are a number of other passages which you know 
 better than I do teaching the same truth. 
 
 TuEoTIMus. Who doubts that the Son of God assumed 
 human form out of goodness to mankind and to deliver them 
 from their sins? But likewise who can doubt that He delivers 
 us from our sins in order to consecrate us as a living temple to 
 the glory of His Father, so that we and even the angels should 
 through Him render divine honour to the sovereign Majesty ? 
 These two motives are not inconsistent but subordinate the one 
 tothe other. And since God loves all things in proportion as they 
 are worthy of love, since He loves Himself infinitely more than 
 us, it is clear that the greater of these two motives, the one to 
 which all the others must be referred, is that His attributes 
 should be glorified in a divine manner by all His creatures in 
 Jesus Christ our Lord. 
 
 Since Scripture was not written for the angels, it was not 
 necessary that we should be told over and over again that Jesus 
 Christ came to be their Head as well as ours, and that we should 
 form with them but one Church, but one concert of praise. A 
 Scripture written for men, and for men who are sinners, had to 
 speak, as it has done and incessantly, to put before us the motive 
 which was most capable of arousing in us an ardent love for 
 our liberator. It had to reveal to us our unworthiness and the 
 absolute necessity of a Mediator to enable us to approach God 
 —a necessity grounded still more upon the nothingness and 
 
 t Col, i. 13=20, 
 
 a 
 
 +See Pe <a 
 
ON METAPHYSICS 865 
 
 abomination of the Fall than upon the incapacity naturally 
 belonging to all created things. No pure creatures can in them- 
 selves render divine honour to God, but neither can they dis- 
 honour Him as sinners do. God does not find His pleasure in 
 them, but neither is He horror-stricken by them as He is by sin, 
 and by him who commits sin. Scripture, then, had to speak in 
 the way it does of the incarnation of Jesus Christ in order to 
 make men feel their wretchedness and the compassion of God, 
 so that the feeling of our wretchedness should keep us in humility, 
 and the compassion of God should fill us with confidence and 
 love. 
 
 THEODORE. You are right, Theotimus. Holy Scripture speaks 
 to us in accordance with God’s designs, which are to humble the 
 creature and to link him to Jesus Christ, and through Jesus Christ 
 to Himself. If God allowed all mankind to be enveloped in sin 
 in order to show them mercy in Jesus Christ, He did so in order 
 to humble their pride and to raise the power and dignity of His 
 Pontiff. He willed that we should owe all that we are to our divine 
 Head, so as to unite us with Him the more closely. He permitted 
 the corruption of His work in order that the Father of the future 
 world, the author of the heavenly Jerusalem, should operate upon 
 the non-being, not of Being, but of holiness and justice, and 
 that in Him and through Him we should become a new creature ; 
 in order that filled with the divinity, the fulness whereof dwells 
 in Him as in one substance, we should be able through Jesus 
 Christ alone to render to God divine honours. What do we 
 not owe to Him who lifts us up to the dignity of God’s children, 
 after having saved us from a state worse than that of nonentity 
 itself, and who in order to save us from it annihilated Himself 
 to the extent of assuming a form similar to ours, so as to be the 
 victim of oursins ? Why, then, should the Scripture, not intended 
 for the angels, not intended so much for philosophers as for 
 simple people, intended only to make us love God and to link us to 
 Jesus Christ and through Him to God, why then, I say, should the 
 Scripture explain to us God’s designs in the incarnation in relation 
 to the angels ? Why should it not rest upon the worthlessness that 
 attaches to all creatures, the worthlessness of the Fall being 
 infinitely more palpable and the sight of this indignity being 
 more capable of humbling us and of annihilating us before God ? 
 
 The angels who are in heaven have never offended against 
 God. Nevertheless, St. Paul teaches us that Jesus Christ 
 
366 FOURTEENTH DIALOGUE 
 
 pacifies that which is in heaven as well as that which is upon 
 the earth: ‘‘And, having made peace through the blood of 
 His cross, by Him to reconcile all things unto Himself, 
 whether they be things in earth or in heaven’’;! that God 
 re-establishes, sustains, or, according to the Greek version, 
 reunites all things under the same head that which is in heaven 
 and that which is upon earth: ‘“ Instaurare omnia in Christo, quae 
 in coelis, et quae in terra sunt, in tpso ;’’2 that Jesus Christ, in a 
 word, is the Head of the whole Church, et ipsum dedit caput supra 
 omnem Ecclestam.3 Is not this enough to make us understand that 
 it is only through Jesus Christ that the angels themselves render 
 divine honour to God, and that they only have communion with, 
 access to, or relation with Him through His well-beloved Son, in 
 whom the Father takes infinite delight, and through whom He 
 finds perfect satisfaction in Himself? ‘‘ My beloved, in whom 
 my soul is well pleased.’’ 4 
 
 ARISTES, This appears to me evident. There are not two 
 different Churches, two holy Sions. ‘‘ But you are come,”’ says 
 St. Paul, ‘‘unto mount Sion, and unto the city of the living God, 
 the heavenly Jerusalem, and to an innumerable company of 
 angels,’’5 And since God has put Jesus Christ over the. whole of 
 His Church, I believe that it is only through Him that the angels 
 themselves fulfil their duties, and that they are on that account 
 and always have been favourably received. Yet I have a 
 difficulty to put before you in regard to the principle which 
 you established a little while ago. 
 
 XII. You have told us, Theodore, that God wills to be wor- 
 shipped in spirit and in truth, that is to say by means of judg- 
 ments and movements of the soul; and that our worship and even 
 our good deeds derive their moral goodness from the judgments 
 which they express, which judgments are in conformity with 
 the divine attributes or with the immutable order of the divine 
 perfections. You follow meso far. But now, do you think that 
 plain folk understand so much subtlety ? Do you think that they 
 form those judgments which adore God in spirit and in truth ? 
 Nevertheless, if the generality of men do not form the judgments 
 of the divine attributes or perfections which they ought to form, 
 they do not express these judgments in their actions. They 
 
 * Col, i, 20. + Eph. i. ro. 3 Ibid. 22. 
 4 Matt, xii, 18. 5 Heb. xii. 22. 
 

 
 ON METAPHYSICS 867 
 
 perform, therefore, no good deeds. Through their faith in Jesus 
 Christ they worship neither in spirit nor in truth, if they do 
 not know that to offer the Son to the Father is to declare that 
 creatures and sinners cannot directly have any relation 
 with God. And this it seems to me is something of which 
 many Christians do not think. They are good Christians all 
 the same, and I do not believe that you would dare to con- 
 demn them. 
 
 THEODORE. Note this well, Aristes. To do a good action it 
 is not absolutely necessary to know distinctly that through that 
 action one is expressing a judgment which honours the divine 
 attributes or conforms to the immutable order of the perfections 
 contained in the divine essence. But that our actions should be 
 good they must necessarily express such judgments, and he 
 who acts must have at least confusedly an idea of this order, 
 and he must love it, though he know not precisely what it is. 
 To explain this further: When a man gives alms, it is possible 
 that he is not thinking at the time that God is just. Far from 
 being aware of the judgment that through his alms he is rendering 
 honour to the divine justice, and that he is rendering it favour- 
 able to himself, it may be that he is not thinking of the reward 
 at all. It may also be the case that heis not aware that God con- 
 tains within Himself the immutable order by whose beauty he is 
 actually impressed, nor that it is the conformity of his action 
 to this order which makes it essentially good and acceptable 
 to Him whose invisible law is nothing but this same order. 
 Nevertheless, it is true to say that he who gives alms expresses, 
 through his liberality, the judgment that God is just; and that 
 he expresses it the more distinctly the more the property of which 
 he deprives himself through his charity will be needed by him 
 for the satisfaction of his passions ; and finally, that the more 
 distinctly he expresses it the greater is the honour which he 
 renders to God, the greater is the reward which he gains for 
 himself, the greater is the merit which he acquires before God. 
 In like manner, though he does not know precisely what the 
 immutable order is, or that the goodness of his action consists 
 in its conformity with this order, it is nevertheless true that it is, 
 and can be, just only through such conformity. 
 
 Since the Fall our ideas are so confused and natural law is so 
 annulled that we need a written law to teach us in palpable 
 manner what we ought to do or not todo. As most men do not 
 
368 FOURTEENTH DIALOGUE 
 
 enter into themselves, they do not hear the inner voice which 
 cries out to them: non concupisces. It was necessary that this 
 voice should manifest itself outwardly and enter their minds 
 through the senses. Nevertheless, men have never succeeded in 
 getting rid entirely of the idea of order, the general idea which 
 is expressed in the words, “‘ we must,” ‘‘ we ought,” ‘‘it is just.” 
 For the least sign calls up this ineradicable idea even in children 
 as yet attached to their mothers’ breasts, Without it, men would 
 be quite irreclaimable, or rather absolutely incapable of either 
 good orevil. Now, provided one acts on the basis of this confused 
 and general idea of order, and that what one does is in perfect 
 conformity with it, it is certain that the movement of the heart is 
 regulated byit, though the mind be not to any extent enlightened 
 byit. Itis true that it is obedience to the divine authority which 
 produces faithful and good people. But as God issues commands 
 only in accordance with His inviolable law, the immutable order, 
 only in accordance with the eternal and invariable judgment 
 which He has formed of Himself and of the perfections which He 
 contains in His essence, it is clear that all our deeds are essentially 
 good only in so far as they express and give utterance, so to 
 speak, to this judgment. Let us come now to the objection of 
 those good Christians who worship God in the simplicity of their 
 faith. 
 
 XIII. It is evident that the incarnation of Jesus Christ 
 gives outward expression, as it were, to the judgment which 
 God has formed of Himself, that nothing finite can have any 
 relation to Him. Whoever recognises the necessity of a Mediator 
 gives utterance to his consciousness of his own unworthiness, and if 
 he believes at the same time that this Mediator cannot be a pure 
 creature, however excellent that creature may be supposed to be, 
 he extols infinitely the divine majesty. His faith is, then, in 
 itselfin conformity with the judgment which God has of us and of 
 His own divine perfections. His faith thus adores God in a 
 perfect manner, since through judgments, which are true, and in 
 conformity with those which God has of Himself, it places the 
 mind in the most respectful attitude possible in the presence 
 of His infinite majesty. But, yousay, most Christians do not 
 understand all this subtlety. They go to God quite simply- 
 They are not even aware that they are in this respectful attitude. 
 I quite admit that they do not all know it in the way in which. 
 
ON METAPHYSICS 869 
 
 you knowit. Yet nevertheless, they are in the same attitude. 
 And God sees very well that they are, at least in the disposition of 
 their heart. They leave it to Jesus Christ, who is their Head and 
 spokesman, to be their representative before God in a manner that 
 is befitting. And Jesus Christ, who looks upon them as upon His 
 people, as upon members of His own body, as united to Him 
 through their love and their faith, does not fail to intercede for them 
 and to say aloud what they would not be able to express. Thus, 
 all Christians, in the simplicity of their faith and in the preparation 
 of their heart, ceaselessly adore all His divine attributes through 
 Jesus Christ with an adoration which is very perfect and very 
 acceptable toGod. It is notnecessary, Aristes, that we should know 
 exactly the reasons of our faith, I mean the reasons with which 
 metaphysics may furnish us. But it is absolutely necessary that 
 we should profess this faith. In the same way, it is not 
 necessary that we should know distinctly what it is that con- 
 
 stitutes the morality of our deeds, though it is absolutely necessary 
 
 
 
 that we should perform good deeds. I do not believe, however, 
 that those who meddle with philosophy can employ their time 
 more usefully than in trying to obtain some understanding of 
 the truths which faith teaches us. 
 
 ARISTES. Certainly, Theodore, there is no pleasure more 
 sensible, or at least no joy more substantial, than that which is 
 produced in us by understanding the truths of faith. 
 
 THEOTIMUS. Yes, in those who have a great deal of love for 
 religion and whose hearts are not corrupted. For there are people 
 to whom light is painful. They are vexed to see what perhaps 
 they would rather did not exist. 
 
 THEODORE. There are a few such people, Theotimus; but 
 there are many who are afraid, and with reason, lest they should 
 fall into some error and drag others into it. They would be 
 very glad to have matters made clear and religion defended. 
 But as one naturally distrusts people whom one does not know, 
 one gets afraid, frightened, angry, and gives vent to utterances 
 of passion always unjust and uncharitable. This causes many 
 people to be silent who ought perhaps to speak, and from whom 
 I should have learnt better principles than those which I have 
 put before you. Yet often this does not compel to silence those 
 mad and presumptuous authors who recklessly publish all that 
 occurs to their minds. As for me, when a man adopts as his 
 principle to submit only to evidence and authority, when I see 
 
 24 
 
370 FOURTEENTH DIALOGUE 
 
 that he works only for the purpose of finding good proofs for 
 accepted dogmas, I am not afraid of his being dangerously led 
 astray. He may perhaps fallinto some error. But what would 
 you have? This is bound up with our wretched condition. 
 It would be to banish reason from this world, if in order 
 to be entitled to reason we insisted upon immunity from 
 error. 
 
 ARISTES. It is necessary, Theodore, that I should confess 
 in good faith my prepossession. Before we met, I was of opinion 
 that reason must be banished altogether from religion, since 
 it was only capable of causing confusion. But now I recognise 
 that, if we abandoned it to the enemies of faith, we should soon 
 be very hard pressed and be as discredited as the brutes. Whoever 
 has reason on his side has mighty weapons wherewith to master 
 all minds; for, after all, we are all rational and in essence rational. 
 To pretend to despoil ourselves of reason as one gets rid of one’s 
 official clothes is to make ourselves ridiculous and to vainly attempt 
 the impossible. Thus, at the time when I decided that we ought 
 not to use reason in matters of theology, I felt quite sure that 
 I was demanding from the theologians something they would 
 never grant. Isee now, Theodore, that I had gone to a dangerous 
 extreme, which did not exactly redound to the honour of our 
 holy religion, founded by the supreme Reason, which has adapted 
 itself to our level in order to make us more rational. It is much 
 better to abide by the course which you have adopted, of basing 
 dogmas upon the authority of the Church, and of looking for 
 proofs of these dogmas in the simplest and clearest principles 
 with which reason provides us. Metaphysics must thus be 
 made to serve religion (for of all the branches of philosophy 
 there is almost no other which can be of use to it), and to throw 
 upon the truths of faith that light which helps to reassure the 
 intellect and fully to reconcile it with the heart. In this way we 
 shall preserve our character of rationality, notwithstanding our 
 obedience and submission to the authority of the Church. 
 
 THEODORE. Remain firm in this thought, Aristes; always in 
 submission to the authority of the Church, always ready to 
 yield to reason. But do not take the opinions of certain doctors 
 and of certain communities, or even of an entire nation, for un- 
 questionable truths. Neither condemnthem toolightly. So far as 
 the opinions of philosophers are concerned, never submit to them 
 entirely unless you are obliged and compelled to do so by the 
 
ON METAPHYSICS 871 
 
 weight of evidence. I give you this advice in order to cure 
 the evil which I may have caused; and in order that, if I have 
 had the misfortune to submit to you, as true opinions, some 
 that are uncertain, you may be able to discover their falsity 
 by following this good advice—advice which is so necessary 
 and which I am very much afraid I have often neglected. 
 

 

 
 INDEX 
 
 Adamson, R., 62 
 
 Arnauld, Antoine, 17, 29, 39f., 58, 
 84, 91, 95, 128, 150, 245, 314, 
 318, 322, 337 
 
 Attention, as occasional cause of 
 ideas, 60, 197, 308 
 
 Augustine, St., 25,28, 36, 62, 244, 
 240, 247 
 
 Beauty, 27 
 Berkeley, 19, 38 
 Bérulle, Cardinal, 15 
 Borelli, 257 
 
 Cassirer, 31 
 
 Causality, 51 f., 195 f. 
 Malebranche and Hume, 55 
 
 Clauberg, 53 
 
 Colour, 146, 300 
 
 Cordemoy, 53 
 
 Corporeal things, 75, 84, 160 f. 
 
 Creation, 50, 51 
 and conservation, 185, 189 
 purpose of, Dialogue IX _ 
 
 De la Forge, 53 
 
 De Mairan, 46 
 
 Descartes— 
 Dioptric, 299 
 early influence on Malebranche, 16 
 on formation of fetus, 285 
 Physics, 270 
 relation to Malebranche, 61 f, 
 theory of perception, 22-3 
 
 Error, 99 
 Essence, 24 
 and existence, 26 
 Evil, Dialogue IX 
 Extension, 72, 97, 109, 260 
 External world, 36 f., 75, 84, 160 f. 
 
 Fontenelle, 18, 19 
 on occasionalism, 57 
 Formica leo, 280 
 
 General ideas, 93, 94 
 Geometry, 82, 143, 156 
 
 Geulincx, 53 
 God— 
 attributes of, 43 f., 203 f. 
 existence of, 87 
 generality and simplicity of His 
 “ways,” 249 f. 
 our knowledge of, 33, 90, 92 
 ves cogitans, 43, 216 
 ves extensa, 43, 207 f. 
 union with, 197, 337 
 vision in, 83 
 Grace, laws of, 336 
 
 Hicks, Prof. G. Dawes, 62 
 
 Idea, 23, 24 
 
 and essence, 24 
 
 and feeling, 100 
 
 and perception, 93-95 
 
 of the Infinite, 28, 80 
 
 reality of, 74 f., 96 
 Imagination, 70 
 Immortality, 73 
 Infallibility of the Church, 343 f. 
 Intelligible extension, 29f., 80, 83, 
 
 87 f., 91 
 and Divine Immensity, 213 
 
 Laws— 
 of the communication of motion, 
 336 
 of the union of the finite with 
 the univeral Reason, 336 
 of the union of mind and body, 
 299 f., 336 
 Leeuwenhoeck, 253 
 Leibniz, 18 
 Light, 18, 128, 300 
 
 Malpighi, 287 
 Martin, André, 16 
 Mediator, need of, 365 
 Mind— 
 and body, 129f., 178, 182, 299 f., 
 304, 356 
 and matter, 21 
 knowledge of others, 32 
 knowledge of our own, 30, 102, 155 
 
374 INDEX 
 
 Miracles, 129, 313 
 Modes— 
 of extension, 21, 72, 109 
 of mind, 21, 72 
 Moral order, 26 f., 219 f. 
 Movement, 185 f. 
 laws of, 336 
 our awareness of, 30 
 
 Neoplatonism, 25, 61, 62 
 Novaro, 31, 38 
 Number, 88 
 
 Occasionalism, 51 f., 195 f. 
 
 development of the theory of, 52 f. 
 
 difficulties of, 57 
 
 Optimism, 64, 241 
 
 Oratory, the, 15 
 
 Order, 131 
 
 Organisms— 
 growth of, 257 f. 
 metamorphoses of, 280 
 pre-formation theory of, 257 f. 
 
 Pain, 115, 127 
 Pelagianism, 246 
 
 Pillon, 38 
 
 Plants, generation of, 246 
 Possible worlds, 64, 241 
 Predestination, 243 
 Providence, 251 f. 
 
 Recherche de la Vévité, 16, 74, 84, 
 95, 125, 150, 183, 289 
 Religion and philosophy, 62, 139, 
 163 f., 231, Dialogue XIV 
 Representative Perception, 39, 40 
 Revelation, 76, 160, 168 
 
 Sciences, order of importance of, 160 
 Self— 
 
 consciousness of, 30, 102, 155 
 
 No “‘ idea ”’ of, 102 
 Self-love, 220 
 Sense qualities, 124 f., 154 
 Senses— 
 
 evidence of, 70, 79 
 
 function of, in the sciences, 142 f. 
 Social order, basis of, 220, 306 
 Soul and body, 127 f., 179 f. 
 Spinoza, 46 f., 80, 227 
 Substance, 73 
 Swammerdam, 255 
 
 Truth, 26, ror, 218 f. 
 Van Helmont, 136 
 
 Will— 
 and attention, 60 
 and the Good, 59, 219 
 freedom of, 59 f., 222 
 of God, 221 
 Word, the, 25, 101, 152, 164 
 
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 UNWIN BROTHERS, LIMITED 
 
 Wii LONDON AND WOKING 
 
 
 

 
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