22. Our author, having already spoken so admirably about the beauty and fittingness of the works of God, has tried to search out phrases that would reconcile them with his hypothesis, which appears to deprive God of all consideration for the good or the advantage of creatures. The indifference of God prevails (he says) only in his first elections, but as soon as God has chosen something
he has virtually chosen, at the same time, all that which is of necessity connected therewith. There were innumerable possible men equally perfect: the election of some from among them is purely arbitrary (in the judgement of our author). But God, once having chosen them, could not have willed in them anything contrary to human nature. Up to this point the author's words are consistent with his hypothesis; but those that follow go further. He advances the proposition that when God resolved to produce certain creatures he resolved at the same time, by virtue of his infinite goodness, to give them every possible advantage. Nothing, indeed, could be so reasonable, but also nothing could be so contrary to the hypothesis he has put forward, and he does right to overthrow it, rather than prolong the existence of anything so charged with incongruities incompatible with the goodness and wisdom of God. Here is the way to see plainly that this hypothesis cannot harmonize with what has just been said. The first question will be: Will God create something or not, and wherefore? The author has answered that he will create something in order to communicate his goodness. It is therefore no matter of indifference to him whether he shall create or not. Next the question is asked: Will God create such and such a thing, and wherefore? One must needs answer (to speak consistently) that the same goodness makes him choose the best, and indeed the author falls back on that subsequently. But, following his own hypothesis, he answers that God will create such a thing, but that there is no wherefore, because God is absolutely indifferent towards creatures, who have their goodness only from his choice. It is true that our author varies somewhat on this point, for he says here (ch. 5, sect. 5, sub-sect. 4, § 12) that God is indifferent to the choice between men of equal perfection, or between equally perfect kinds of rational creatures. Thus, according to this form of expression, he would choose rather the more perfect kind: and as kinds that are of equal perfection harmonize more or less with others, God will choose those that agree best together; there will therefore be no pure and absolute indifference, and the author thus comes back to my principles. But let us speak, as he speaks, in accordance with his hypothesis, and let us assume with him that God chooses certain creatures even though he be absolutely indifferent towards them. He will then just as soon choose creatures that are irregular, ill-shapen, mischievous, unhappy, chaos everlasting,
monsters everywhere, scoundrels as sole inhabitants of the earth, devils filling the whole universe, all this rather than excellent systems, shapely forms, upright persons, good angels! No, the author will say, God, when once he had resolved to create men, resolved at the same time to give them all the advantages possible in the world, and it is the same with regard to creatures of other kinds. I answer, that if this advantage were connected of necessity with their nature, the author would be speaking in accordance with his hypothesis. That not being so, however, he must admit that God's resolve to give every possible advantage to men arises from a new election independent of that one which prompted God to make men. But whence comes this new election? Does it also come from mere indifference? If such is the case, nothing prompts God to seek the good of men, and if he sometimes comes to do it, it will be merely by accident. But the author maintains that God was prompted to the choice by his goodness; therefore the good and ill of creatures is no matter of indifference to him, and there are in him primary choices to which the goodness of the object prompts him. He chooses not only to create men, but also to create men as happy as it is possible to be in this system. After that not the least vestige of mere indifference will be left, for we can reason concerning the entire world just as we have reasoned concerning the human race. God resolved to create a world, but he was bound by his goodness at the same time to make choice of such a world as should contain the greatest possible amount of order, regularity, virtue, happiness. For I can see no excuse for saying that whereas God was prompted by his goodness to make the men he has resolved to create as perfect as is possible within this system, he had not the same good intention towards the whole universe. There we have come back again to the goodness of the objects; and pure indifference, where God would act without cause, is altogether destroyed by the very procedure of our gifted author, with whom the force of truth, once the heart of the matter was reached, prevailed over a speculative hypothesis, which cannot admit of any application to the reality of things.
23. Since, therefore, nothing is altogether indifferent to God, who knows all degrees, all effects, all relations of things, and who penetrates at one and the same time all their possible connexions, let us see whether at least the ignorance and insensibility of man can make him absolutely indifferent in his choice. The author
regales us with this pure indifference as with a handsome present. Here are the proofs of it which he gives: (1) We feel it within us. (2) We have experience within ourselves of its marks and its properties. (3) We can show that other causes which might determine our will are insufficient. As for the first point, he asserts that in feeling freedom within us we feel within us at the same time pure indifference. But I do not agree that we feel such indifference, or that this alleged feeling follows upon that of freedom. We feel usually within us something which inclines us to our choice. At times it happens, however, that we cannot account for all our dispositions. If we give our mind to the question, we shall recognize that the constitution of our body and of bodies in our environment, the present or previous temper of our soul, together with countless small things included under these comprehensive headings, may contribute towards our greater or lesser predilection for certain objects, and the variation of our opinions from one time to another. At the same time we shall recognize that none would attribute this to mere indifference, or to some indefinable force of the soul which has the same effect upon objects as colours are said to have upon the chameleon. Thus the author has no cause here to appeal to the judgement of the people: he does so, saying that in many things the people reason better than the philosophers. It is true that certain philosophers have been misled by chimeras, and it would seem that mere indifference is numbered among chimerical notions. But when someone maintains that a thing does not exist because the common herd does not perceive it, here the populace cannot be regarded as a good judge, being, as it is, only guided by the senses. Many people think that air is nothing when it is not stirred by the wind. The majority do not know of imperceptible bodies, the fluid which causes weight or elasticity, magnetic matter, to say nothing of atoms and other indivisible substances. Do we say then that these things are not because the common herd does not know of them? If so, we shall be able to say also that the soul acts sometimes without any disposition or inclination contributing towards the production of its act, because there are many dispositions and inclinations which are not sufficiently perceived by the common herd, for lack of attention and thought. Secondly, as to the marks of the power in question, I have already refuted the claim advanced for it, that it possesses the advantage of making one active, the real cause of
one's action, and subject to responsibility and morality: these are not genuine marks of its existence. Here is one the author adduces, which is not genuine either, namely, that we have within us a power of resisting natural appetites, that is to say of resisting not only the senses, but also the reason. But I have already stated this fact: one resists natural appetites through other natural appetites. One sometimes endures inconveniences, and is happy to do so; but that is on account of some hope or of some satisfaction which is combined with the ill and exceeds it: either one anticipates good from it, or one finds good in it. The author asserts that it is through that power to transform appearances which he has introduced on the scene, that we render agreeable what at first displeased us. But who cannot see that the true reason is, that application and attention to the object and custom change our disposition and consequently our natural appetites? Once we become used to a rather high degree of cold or heat, it no longer incommodes us as it formerly did, and yet no one would ascribe this effect to our power of choice. Time is needed, for instance, to bring about that hardening, or rather that callosity, which enables the hands of certain workmen to resist a degree of heat that would burn our hands. The populace, whom the author invokes, guess correctly the cause of this effect, although they sometimes apply it in a laughable manner. Two serving-maids being close to the fire in the kitchen, one who has burnt herself says to the other: Oh, my dear, who will be able to endure the fire of purgatory? The other answers: Don't be absurd, my good woman, one grows used to everything.
24. But (the author will say) this wonderful power which causes us to be indifferent to everything, or inclined towards everything, simply at our own free will, prevails over reason itself. And this is his third proof, namely, that one cannot sufficiently explain our actions without having recourse to this power. One sees numbers of people despising the entreaties of their friends, the counsels of their neighbours, the reproaches of their conscience, discomforts, tortures, death, the wrath of God, hell itself, for the sake of running after follies which have no claim to be good or tolerable, save as being freely chosen by such people. All is well in this argument, with the exception of the last words only. For when one takes an actual instance one will find that there were reasons or causes which led the man to his choice, and that there are very
strong bonds to fasten him thereto. A love-affair, for example, will never have arisen from mere indifference: inclination or passion will have played its part; but habit and stubbornness will cause certain natures to face ruin rather than separation from the beloved. Here is another example cited by the author: an atheist, a man like Lucilio Vanini (that is what many people call him, whereas he himself adopts the magnificent name of Giulio Cesare Vanini in his works), will suffer a preposterous martyrdom for his chimera rather than renounce his impiety. The author does not name Vanini; and the truth is that this man repudiated his wrong opinions, until he was convicted of having published atheistical dogmas and acted as an apostle of atheism. When he was asked whether there was a God, he plucked some grass, saying:
Et levis est cespes qui probet esse Deum.
But since the Attorney General to the Parliament of Toulouse desired to cause annoyance to the First President (so it is said), to whom Vanini was granted considerable access, teaching his children philosophy, if indeed he was not altogether in the service of that magistrate, the inquisition was carried through rigorously. Vanini, seeing that there was no chance of pardon, declared himself, when at the point of death, for what he was, an atheist; and there was nothing very extraordinary in that. But supposing there were an atheist who gave himself up for torture, vanity might be in his case a strong enough motive, as in that of the Gymnosophist, Calanus, and of the Sophist who, according to Lucian's account, was burnt to death of his own will. But the author thinks that that very vanity, that stubbornness, those other wild intentions of persons who otherwise seem to have quite good sense, cannot be explained by the appetites that arise from the representation of good and evil, and that they compel us to have recourse to that transcendent power which transforms good into evil, and evil into good, and the indifferent into good or into evil. But we do not need to go so far, and the causes of our errors are only too visible. Indeed, we can make these transformations, but it is not as with the Fairies, by a mere act of this magic power, but by obscuring and suppressing in one's mind the representations of good or bad qualities which are naturally attached to certain objects, and by contemplating only such representations as conform to our taste or