By "primitive" being we mean a being not made up of other beings, but "strictly one in its entity"—unum per se in ratione entis—and therefore having nothing of which it can be deprived without ceasing to be altogether.

It is to be observed that a primitive being may be conceived to exist either contingently or through the necessity of its own nature. Of course, a being which exists through the necessity of its own nature is perfectly independent of all extrinsic things, as it contains in its own nature the adequate reason of its being, and therefore admits of no extrinsic principles of any kind. But a being which exists contingently is a being which has not within itself the adequate reason of its existence; whence it follows that its existence cannot be accounted for but by recourse to some extrinsic principle or principles. As the knowledge of extrinsic principles is calculated to throw much light also on the intrinsic constitution of primitive contingent beings, let us make such principles the subject of our first investigation.

We affirm that the extrinsic principles of every primitive contingent being are three; for to the question, "Whence any such being proceeds," three different answers can be given, and three only.

First, we can assign the reason why, or the end for the sake of which, a being has been made to exist.

Secondly, we can point out the agency through which a being has been made to exist.

Thirdly, and lastly, we can mention the term out of which a being has been brought into existence.

These three principles virtually contain the whole theory of creation. If we were now writing for unbelievers, we would be obliged to commence by establishing some preliminary truths, such as God's existence, the contingency of the world, and the philosophical impossibility of accounting for its origin without recourse to the dogma of creation. But as our habitual readers are presumed to be sufficiently instructed about these fundamental truths, we think we may here dispense with a direct demonstration of the same, and avoid a digression which would lead us too far from the subject now under examination. As, however, this article may possibly fall into the hands of some dupe of modern infidelity, we propose to make a few incidental remarks on their usual objections, and to lay down, before we conclude, some of the arguments by which unbelievers can be convinced of the absolute truth of what we now assume as the ground of our explanations.

We assume, then, that there is a Creator, a God, a being infinitely intelligent and infinitely powerful, eternal, and independent. Such a being, as infinitely perfect, is infinitely happy, and experiences no need whatever of anything outside of himself. He therefore does not create anything, unless he freely wills; nor wills he anything, unless it is for some good which he freely intends; for nothing but good can be the object of volition. Now, the only good which God in his infinite wisdom can freely intend is the exterior manifestation of his divine perfections. It is, therefore, for this end that creatures were brought into existence.

Our first answer to the question above proposed points out this final principle of creation—that is, the manifestation of God's perfections in such a degree and manner as he himself was pleased freely to determine. To attain this end, it is obvious that God was obliged to bestow upon his creatures such a degree of reality as would enable them to show in themselves and in their finite perfections a finite image, and, so to say, a reflex of the perfections of their Creator. Hence the final principle, on which the existence of contingent beings originally depends, comprises not only the manifestation of God's perfections in a determinate degree, but also, and more immediately, the bestowal of a proportionate degree of entity upon creatures, that they may carry on such a manifestation according to the design of their Creator. Thus the ultimate end of creation is indeed God's glory, or the manifestation of his perfections; but the proximate end of creation, and that which is immediately obtained in the very act of creation, is the existence of the created things with that degree of reality and with those endowments which make them fit instruments for the aforesaid manifestation. Accordingly, when asked whence a primitive contingent being proceeds, our first answer must be that it proceeds from God's design of showing his existence and infinite perfection by communicating contingent existence and finite perfections outside of himself.