Les Misérables, v. 2

There are some eminent and able atheists, we admit. These at bottom being brought back to the truth by their very ability, are not sure that they are atheists; it is scarcely more than a matter of definition with them; and at any rate, if they do not believe in God, being great minds, they bear unconscious witness to His existence.

We hail in them the philosopher, while we deny relentlessly their philosophy.

Let us go on.

It is wonderful, too, to see how easily they amuse themselves with words, A metaphysical school of the North, a little impregnated with fog, thought that it was making a revolution in the human understanding when it replaced the word "Force" by the word "Will."

To say "the plant wills" instead of "the plant grows;" this would amount to something, if they added "the universe wills," Why? Because it would lead to this: the plant wills, then it has a self; the universe wills, then it has a God.

To us, however, who, unlike this school, reject nothing a priori, a will in the plant, which this school admits, seems more difficult to admit than a will in the universe, which this school denies.

To deny the will of the infinite, that is to say, God, is impossible without denying the infinite. This we have demonstrated.

The denial of the infinite leads straight to nihilism. Everything becomes "a conception of the mind."

With nihilism no argument is possible; for the logical nihilist doubts the existence of his opponent in the discussion, and is not quite sure that he exists himself.

From his point of view it may be that his own existence is only a "conception of his mind."

He does not see, however, that all that he has denied he admits in the lump by merely using this word "mind."

In short, no way is left open for thought by a philosophy which makes everything end in the mono-syllable "No."

To "No," there is but one answer, "Yes."

Nihilism has no range.

There is no nothing. Zero does not exist. Everything is something. Nothing is nothing.

Man lives by affirmation even more than by bread.

To see and point out the way is not enough. Philosophy ought to be a living force; it ought to have for end and aim the amelioration of mankind. Socrates ought to enter into Adam, and produce Marcus Aurelius; in other words, turn the man of selfish enjoyment into the wise and good man. Change Eden into the Lyceum. Knowledge ought to be a stimulant. To enjoy life, what a poor aim, what a mean ambition! The brute enjoys. To think, that is the true triumph of the soul.

To hold out thought to quench men's thirst, to give to all men as an elixir the idea of God, to make conscience and knowledge fraternize in them, and by this mysterious partnership to make them just, – this is the work for real philosophy. Morality is a blossoming of truths. Thought leads to action. The absolute ought to be practical. The ideal must be brought into such form that it can be breathed, drunk, and eaten by the human soul. The ideal is the very one to say, "Take, eat; this is my body, this is my blood." Knowledge is a holy communion. Thus it ceases to be a sterile love of knowledge to become the one and sovereign means of human advancement, and from philosophy it is exalted to religion.

Philosophy ought not to be an arch built over mystery, the better to look down on it, merely as a convenience for curiosity.

Postponing to another time the development of this thought, we content ourselves now with saying that we understand neither man as the point of departure nor progress as the goal, without these two motive forces, faith and love.

Progress is the goal, the ideal is the type.

What is the ideal? It is God.

Ideal, absolute, perfection, infinite, – all mean the same.

CHAPTER VII

CARE TO BE EXERCISED IN CONDEMNING

History and philosophy have eternal duties which are at the same time simple duties. To oppose Caiaphas as a high priest, Draco as a judge, Trimalcion as a law-giver, Tiberius as an emperor, – that is a duty simple, direct, and clear, and gives no room for doubt. But the right to live apart, even with its objections and its abuse, must be demonstrated and handled carefully; monasticism is a human problem.

In speaking of convents, these homes of error but of innocence, of wanderings from the true path but of good intentions, of ignorance but of devotion, of torture but of martyrdom, we must almost always say yes and no.

A convent is a contradiction: its aim, salvation; its means, sacrifice. The convent is supreme selfishness having as its result supreme abnegation.

To abdicate in order to reign seems to be the motto of monasticism.

In the convent, they suffer in order to enjoy. They take out a letter of credit on death. They discount in earthly night the light of heaven. In the convent hell is endured in advance of the heirship to paradise.

The taking of the veil or the frock is a suicide recompensed by eternity.

Mockery on such a subject does not seem to us to be in place. Everything there is serious, the good as well as the bad.

The just man frowns, but never sneers at it We can sympathize with indignation, but not with malignity.

CHAPTER VIII

FAITH, LAW

A few words more. We blame the Church when it is steeped in intrigues. We scorn the spiritual when it is not in accord with the temporal; but we honor the thoughtful man wherever we find him.

We bow to the man who kneels.

A faith of some kind is necessary to man. Alas for him who believes nothing!

We are not necessarily idle because we are absorbed. Labor may be invisible as well as visible.

To reflect is to labor; to think is to act.

The folded arms labor, the clasped hands work. The gaze directed to heaven is a labor.

Thales stayed immovable for four years. He founded philosophy.

In our opinion, monks are not drones, and hermits are not idlers.

To think of the future life is a serious business.

Without withdrawing at all from the position which we have just taken, we believe that a continual reminder of the tomb is good for the living. On this point the priest and the philosopher agree. We must die. The Trappist Abbé replies to Horace.

To mix with his life some presence of the tomb is the law of the wise man; and it is also the law of the recluse. Here recluse and wise man agree.

There is such a thing as material growth; we are glad of it. There is also such a thing as moral grandeur; we insist upon it.

Thoughtless and hasty spirits say: "What is the use of these figures motionless by the side of mystery? What purpose do they serve? What good do they do?"

Alas! In presence of the darkness which envelops us, and which awaits us, not knowing what will become of us in the dispersion of all things, we answer, "There is no work more sublime, perhaps, than that which these souls are doing." And we add, "There is, perhaps, no work more useful."

Those who always pray are needed for those who never pray.