“How many deaths of this kind have I seen at Babylon? Never, for instance, did contagious distemper make such havock as the late pious broils. It is true, the Babylonians are so constituted, that their soul sits very loose; the least shock parts it from the body; this is confirmed by observation. Call to mind their notorious quarrel about musick, their rage, their fury: How few heads were untouched? They are mad, said some reasonable people: But for my part, I knew they were dead.
“God rest the soul of the author of the Petites Lettres a de grands Philosophes! He had long been declining; and at last died some months ago. Instantly, the universal soul, possessed of his brains, dislodged some shreds of verses, jumbled them together, and framed that lifeless comedy, the indecency of which gave offence to all the Babylonians that remained alive.
“I shall now speak of the signs by which the living may be distinguished from the dead: And, doubtless, the reader sees already what these signs may be. To behold wickedness with unconcern; to be unmoved by virtue, to mind only self-interest; and without remorse, to be carried away with the torrent of the age, are signs of death. Be assured, no rational soul inhabits such abandoned machines. What numbers of dead amongst us! you will say. What numbers of dead amongst us! will I answer.
“As there are signs which declare that such a particular person, who thinks himself, and whom you think full of life, is however deprived of it; so there are signs which show the ravages, these concealed deaths have made in the world. For instance, there must have been, of late years, a great mortality among the learned: For, if you observe almost all the productions of modern literature, you will find only a playing with words, destructive principles, dangerous assertions, dazzling hints. Alas! our authors are manifestly but machines, actuated by the universal soul.
“And, very lately, have we not had fresh proofs of this mortality? What is meant by these libels unworthy of the light? These when’s? These if’s? These what-d’ye-calls? These wherefore’s? And I know not how many more with which we are deluged. Be not persuaded that rational souls are capable of such excesses.
“I will conclude with opening a door to new reflections. Suppose a man, like so many others, vegetates only, and is reduced to the universal soul, I demand whether the race of such a man is not in the same state. If so, I pity our posterity. Rational souls were scarce among our fore-fathers; they are still more so among us; surely there will be none left among our offspring. All are degenerating, and we are very near the last stage.”
CHAP. XIII.
Letter to the Europeans.
The second of the works, of which I remember to have seen the plan delineated on the leaves of the Fantastical tree, was digested into the form of a letter, addressed to all the nations of Europe, the substance of which is as follows:
“O ye powerful nations of Europe; nations polished, ingenious, learned, warlike, made to command the rest; nations the most accomplished upon earth; the times are come: Your profound schemes for the happiness of man have prospered: You enjoy it at length, and I congratulate you upon it.