III.
The way is found. Man has the gift of believing not only the things he sees and knows by his own intellect, but also those he does not see and which he learns through tradition. He admits, he affirms with confidence the facts which are asserted by others, when the witnesses seem competent and reliable, even in cases where he cannot verify their truth or submit them to a rigid criticism. Thus in the authority of witnesses we have that which constitutes faith; faith properly so called, which is the belief in the divine truths, as well as purely human faith, which is confidence in the knowledge of another. Both require the same act of intelligence; but, if it concerns the affairs of this world, the authority of the witness is easily established, for he has only to prove his competence and his veracity; while for superhuman things it is necessary that he himself should be superhuman, that he should prove it to us, that we should feel by the way he speaks that he knows and has dwelt in the heaven of which he is speaking, and that he has descended from it. If he is only a man, he is without a claim upon us. Manifest signs of his mission and authority are necessary; such signs must be unusual and incomprehensible; they must command respect and force conviction; they must be miraculous facts entirely beyond mere human power.
Such is the supreme and necessary condition for every solution of these natural problems, or, what amounts to the same, for any great and true religion. The appearance of a being eminently divine is necessary, who will show the character of his mission and his right to claim obedience by miracles. Miracles and religion are, then, two correlative terms, two inseparable expressions. Do not try to preserve one and get rid of the other; the attempt will fail. If you could effect this divorce, both would disappear. Religion without miracles is only a human doctrine; it is simply philosophy, which has no right to penetrate the mysteries of the infinite, and which can only speak in hypotheses, without force and without authority.
There is no way, then, to help it: miracles must be admitted. This is the great stumbling-block.
It is said: "That would be allowed when the world was young, and when man himself, ignorant and a novice, had not demonstrated for so many centuries the stability of nature's laws! Then he could suppose that there was some hidden power, which at certain times and for certain ends played with these laws and suspended them at will; but to-day, in this advanced age, wise as we are, how can we be expected to bend our enlightened reason to these uncertainties? how can we give science these injurious contradictions?"
Yes, you believe yourselves to be extremely learned. You think that you thoroughly understand the laws of nature, because from time to time you have wrested some of her secrets from her; and these being always more or less marvellous, you immediately conclude that she has spoken her last word! Strange assumption! Look behind, and you are right, you have accomplished an immense distance. Look ahead, and the end is as far as in the days of your fathers, the distance to be overcome remains always the same, you have not advanced a single step. Far from adding to your presumption, the progress of your knowledge should rather make you feel more keenly your ignorance. The more conquests you make, the more your radical impotence is shown. Yet you presume to say that the laws of this world allow or do not allow this or that, as if you completely understood them, while at every moment new and unexpected facts, which are granted by yourselves, defeat your calculations, mock your predictions, and derogate from laws which you proclaim absolute and eternal!
No one doubts that a general and permanent order reigns in this world; but that this order is inexorably determined in its trifling details, that nothing can alter it, that it will remain the same for ever, you cannot say any more than can we; or rather, you, as well as we, are living witnesses that an unbending mechanism does not govern all things here below.
Indeed, what do you do, you, a feeble atom, an imperceptible creature, when you forbid the Sovereign Master the great ordainer of things, the least deviation, the slightest infraction, of the laws he has made? Do you not violate these laws so far as you are able every day, every hour, and in every way? The plant that the natural order would cause to bloom in summer, you cover with flowers in winter; you change the flavor and the form of the fruit, and the color of the flowers; you bend the twigs and branches, and make them grow against their nature. And it is not only over vegetation and inanimate objects that you exercise your caprices. How many living beings have you transformed, and completely altered their natural mode of life! What unexpected missions and what strange destinies has your fancy made them undergo!
It may be said that these are only little miracles; but after all, how do the greatest ones differ from them? They are both infractions upon the apparent order of nature. Is the real order subverted by this? Is the relation of cause and effect broken because our gardeners derive and propagate from a graft new and innumerable varieties? No; and since this is true, there can be no good reason for refusing to admit a series of deviations above these of every-day experience. The miraculous cures, the wonderful transitions from extreme feebleness to health, and the intuitive power of a saint, which enables him to read the very thoughts of men, can all be effected without compromising or menacing the universal order. Everything depends upon the degree of power you grant the Author of these acts, to him who, holding all things in his hand, can make the exception as easily as the rule.