History is not a science properly so-called, since it only occupies itself with contingent facts, and does not pretend to deduce those facts from first principles by any necessary connection. Differing from the physical world, where phenomena seemingly the most accidental are the effect of constant laws, the moral world is the product of human liberty, acting under the control of the Divine Providence in all the spontaneity of its expansion. History, which presents us with the faithful tableaux of this world, must refuse therefore to admit into its process that severe order which constitutes science; and if at times in the recital of human acts it can point out to us the accomplishment of the moral law, far more frequently does it show the most flagrant and persistent violation of it.

Must we say, then, that history ought to resign itself to presenting to the mind a mere disconnected and aimless chaos of facts, and that it cannot seek to cast on its recitals the light of principles, and give to them that order and that unity without which there is nothing truly beautiful? Who dare say this? To what purpose would the study of history serve us if it were nothing else than an incoherent tableau of the caprices of human liberty? In place of being one of the most useful studies for the formation of the mind and heart of a young man, it would be nothing but an idle pastime and dangerous food for curiosity. Instead of illumining the present by the light of the past, it would only serve to transmit to the present generations the consequence of the scandals of the generation which went before; in place of pointing out a God still working in the world and thus becoming a school for religion, it would be simply a school for atheism, in permitting us to see in the moral world nothing but human liberty abandoned to itself, a worthy emulation of that blind and impious science which in the physical world would show us nothing save a nature self-produced, self-acting by its own power.

History, then, is a study truly worthy of man; with a power to charm his intellect and make a beneficial impression on his heart, only so long as it marches ever under the light of principles, and keeps its eyes ever fixed on the moral laws, to show where they agree or where they clash with the facts with whose recital it is charged. That is to say, history cannot fulfil its mission without calling in philosophy to its aid; and, however able a writer may be in the narration of facts, he can never merit the title of historian if he is not a philosopher.

Not that I wish to bring myself forward here as the defender of the philosophy of history, as understood by the greater portion of modern historians. I know well that this pretended science, so vaunted in our days, is one of the deadliest engines of war which impiety has set in action in its attack on the church. The philosophy of history thus understood is to true history, such as St. Augustine and Bossuet taught, what the philosophy of the sophist is to the philosophy of reason. I cannot help, therefore, repudiating with all my power this word, if they persist in giving it the sense which Voltaire, who first introduced it, gave, or the still more impious sense which the pantheistic school gives it. I maintain that there is no philosophy of history if you understand thereby the fatalist development of human activity, after certain fixed formulas as necessary as those which govern the movements of matter; such a philosophy of history is nothing else than a denial of the human soul and of God, the legitimizing of all crime, the exciting of all the worst passions, the overthrow of all society, that is to say, the destruction of all philosophy and of all history.

But the false philosophy of fatalism and pantheism is not the only one, thank God, which can be applied to history. There is also a true philosophy of history, which shows us God glorifying himself in the reparation of the disorders of the moral world after a manner as admirable in its kind as is the maintenance of the order of the physical world. If he showed his power and wisdom, when with sovereign hand he caused the splendors of the heavens to radiate from the womb of chaos with the harmony of the stars and the life of nature, how much wiser and more powerful does he not seem to us when we behold him making use of a chaos a thousand times more rebellious, the chaos of the passions and perverseness of humanity, in order to produce the most beautiful of all his works—the manifestation of his truth and the triumph of his goodness!

It is this sovereign action of the Divine Providence, irresistibly shaping to its own end the will of man without infringing an iota on his liberty, that the true philosophy of history purposes to contemplate. It is part of this principle that God, sovereignly wise, who could not call into being the least atom without giving it an end worthy of himself, could not for a stronger reason produce the masterpiece of his hands, the rational soul, without giving it an end, and without urging it unceasingly to the realization of that end. That which is true of the individual is true of society, and is truer still of all humanity.

This end being attainable by visible means, and, on the other hand, being conformable to the nature of God and the nature of man, it ought to be possible to discover it by means of a study of facts, which constitute history, and by means of a profound observation of those two natures, which constitute philosophy. Philosophy furnishes the data a priori; history possesses itself of these data and verifies them by experience. The result of this double revision is one of the most attractive branches of knowledge for the mind, and most capable of enlarging the soul, the knowledge of the divine economy, and of the secret resorts by which Providence governs the affairs of this world.

The divine government operates in three different spheres, to which respond three degrees of the philosophy of history.

The first sphere of action chosen by Providence is the conscience of each man. Undoubtedly we are not to look in this world for the definite accomplishment of individual destinies. God has reserved for a more durable life the full award of his law. Meanwhile it has often been his will to anticipate this eternal award by a temporary one, which, in this life, may avenge his justice for the outrages of crime. Thus, there are some lives most obscure; there are, for a still stronger reason, brilliant lives which leave their mark on the memory of the human race. It is not often possible to discover this award. To arrive at it, history will borrow from philosophy the moral laws which ought to regulate the conduct of individuals; and she will look for the confirmation of these laws in the prosperity or misfortune which have accompanied their observance or their neglect. Such is the study which constitutes the first degree of the true philosophy of history, and which makes this science an excellent school for morality.