The Press. — London, England, 1857-06-20 00:00:00

JUNE 20, 1857. I ittraturt. Natural Religion. By M. Jules Simon. Translated by J. W. Cole. Edited, with Preface and Notes, by the Rev. J. B. Marsden, M.A. London Bentley. WE have deferred our review of this eloquent performance until we could observe the effect of its reception in England. In France it has enjoyed much vogue, and passed through three large editions. It has been read, admired, and criticised in societies of all kinds, and has justly been thought to uphold its author's high literary credit. But in England, hitherto, M. Jules Simon's performance has made no noise, and attracted but little attention. Nor are we surprised at a dissertation on " Natural Religion " finding little favour in England. For a long time past works on Tho Evidences" have been out of fashion. Our religious controversies have turned, not on fundamental principles of " Faith," nor on the great primary truths of theology, but on questions of Church government, and on points connected with the internal developments of particular communions. Sixty years ago a writer like M. Jules Simon would have found more readers in England than he could expect to obtain now. Our reading portions of the religious public do not now care for an author who addresses them on the metaphysical sub jects mooted in this volume,—" The Incom prehensibility of God "—" The Demonstration of Providence "—" Objections to Divine Immu tability "—" Proofs of the Immortality of the Soul,' &c. Tho half-educated among them would say, " We knew before all that you have " told us, and an ingenious Frenchman might " have taken so much for granted." On the other hand, our scholars, casuists, and theolo gical critics would perhaps be tempted to exclaim, "We have seen these subjects more " profoundly treated, and there are some phi " losophical objections on parts of them with " which you have not grappled ; but we ap• " prove of your Christian zeal, we applaud " your excellent moral temper, and we admire " the natural flow of your eloquence." Most of the uses of the study of " Natural Theology" are already familiar to the English public. The stupendous fact of a great unseen Creator, the certainty of future retribution in a life beyond the grave, and all the sublime conclusions of a positive Theism, are subjects on which we do not expect our divines or reli gious moralists to address us. Bishop Turton's remarks on the comparatively small value of Natural Theology, in a practical point of view, express the prevailing sentiments amongst us. " When the utmost has been made," says Dr. Turton, "of natural religion, it can give no " intimation on subjects of which revelation is " the most copious ; the various dispensations " of God towards man, our redemption from " the effects of transgression, and, in the lan " guage of the creed, the forgiveness of sins, " the resurrection of the body, and life ever " " Philosophical religionism, of the elementary kind, is certainly not much valued by the worshipping Christians of England. We were, ourselves, present once in a provin cial city, when one of the most philosophical prelates now living delivered a sermon of con siderable ability. The argument was not above the average understanding of a middle-class congregation. The literary merits of the dis course were unquestionable. The logic was lucid, and the rhetoric, if not luminous, was as legitimate of its kind as if it had been fashioned by a Quinctilian in lawn sleeves ; but the heart was not touched, and the ratio cinative tone failed to produce effect. A pro fessional friend had gone with us, from feelings of curiosity, to hear the argumentative divine; and when leaving the pew, one of the congre gation—an unlearned man, but not devoid of shrewd sense—expressed the feelings of the auditors 7-" There was little in all of that to " give any help to a poor sinner." English readers of this series of discourses by M. Jules Simon might be tempted to express a similar sentiment ; and, from a purely Anglican point of view, they would not be far wrong. But they would make a serious mistake if they depreciated the utility or disparaged the merits THE PRESS. of this masterly performance from other points of view. In order to estimate its value, we must re collect that M. Jules Simon's volume should be weighed with especial reference to the present state of religion and infidelity on the Continent. There is, unhappily, a vast deal of infidelity in many cities of Germany and Franco, under a show of conformity to the religion of the Court and Government. Infidelity, as it now exists abroad, does not affect V oltarian levity, nor does it seek to revive the impassioned naturalism of the wild and melancholy Rous seau. It is not literary in its tone, like the encyclopedia. In its general currency it can not be assimilated with the intellectual unbelief of D'Alembert, and the savans of former days. Its root is Socialism, more or less disguised, end its only positive tenet is an extravagant faith in " social organisation." Its professors are not so propagandist as unbelievers in other days. They think of religion as " sentiment," or " poetico-emotional aspirations of the " imaginative organs." They are cool, steady men of business ; hard, dry, and materialistic in their views of lite ; more cosmopolite than national in point of " country," and generally more conversant with political economy than with other branches of human knowledge. It is of little use in controversy with them to refer to the description of the Jews in the works of Tacitus, or to Pliny the Younger's Letters, or the " Apologies " of the early Christian divines. They pass by all the topics opened up in the Straussian controversy ; and if we were compelled to name a special category for their particular school of unbelief, we would call it " The Infidelity of Political Economy." Any one who hasisojourned on the Conti nent, and paid attention to the forms of thought existing in certain circles to the east and west of the Rhine, must have met with several specimens of the sort of unbelievers that we have cursorily described. It is to them that M. Jules Simon addresses this work now before us, and it is to the classes of persons likely to be influenced by such a school of unbelief that this volume will he of value. Few writers know how to hit the exact medium between abstract philosophy and popular in telligence as M. Simon. Hs style has verve and unction ; he has natural " religiosity" of mind, and his tastes are those of a contemplative nature addicted to reflection on grave moral problems. More argumentative and less rhe torical than Chateaubriand, M. Simon is better suited than the author of " The Genius of Christianity " and " Atala " for polemical con troversy. He has strong human sympathies, without the verbal sentimentalism which weakens Lamartino. The popularity which M. Simon's writings have attained may be taken as a sign that there is a deeply thought ful class in France, wearied of the heartless ness that pervades much of . modern French literature. Ina critical point of view, one of the most interesting features in M. Simon's writings is the constant evidences shown is them of the immense difficulty that an intellectual Roman Catholic experiences in giving fair play to his private judgment. There is a shakiness of tone in many passages of this work which reveal that he is not himself quite satisfied with his conclusions. He seems at times as if he were haunted with the question, " Is this " only philosophy, or can it be accepted as not " inconsistent with the ethics of the Church of "Rome?" He exercises largely the right of the sentire quce velis, but we are certain that his Church would never allow its votaries to use the privilege of the quce sentias dicere claimed so largely by M. Jules Simon. We believe, for our own part, that a school of manly, free, and independent philosophers of the Simon school would eventually be effica cious in the development of Protestantism. In this respect Simon differs entirely from the school of Des :Mitres, who laboured with lamentable success to darken the intellect and crush the reasoning powers of his readers and admirers. " The Evenings at St. Petersburg." by Des Maitres, was a more dogmatic work than M. Simon has yet produced, and we could wish that he were tempted to undertake a detailed criticism of that ingenious piece of profound perversity. 607 We shall proceed to give some extracts from this interesting and eloquent writer. Wo shall select examples of his popular and didactic manner. As a specimen of the first, we will take some of his passages on the philosophy of " Prayer." The following thoughts are inspired by noble feelings : What resource have we against so many evils ? Glory 9 Let UR not adopt this mistaken flattery. Glory follows success, and is nothing more than a time•serving courtier, It belongs to the Alexanders and Caesars, those crowned executioners, who would have been consigned to the gibbet by the police of all nations if they had exercised their talents on the highway. With a few more battalions, Cartouche would have been a worthy associate. The empty bubble of glory is not worth feeding on by antici pation. The pleasure of being inscribed after death in the records of memorable deeds, and of furnishing a subject for oratorical display, is a poor compensation for the mor• tifications and iniquities of an entire life ! There is but one true power, the sentiment of virtue; but where is the soul to which it suffices? Such an exception is to be met with, for the true exaltation of humanity, from age to age ; but let us not attempt to measure men by the standard of heroes! What then are we to do? To what are we to attach our. selves. To whom are we to have recourse when the world has failed us? Where are we ti address our sighs upon the brink of the grave ? In whom are we to trust when our love is repulsed, our virtue calumniated, and our honour tarnished ? Towards whom are we to lift our cries against the pitiless disdain, against the closed hearts which reject the offered sacrifice? Something within in spires us to raise our eyes to heaven, and to call God to our aid. This is why so many men unacquainted with science listen eagerly to those who speak to them of the future. It is that they may adore and supplicate that such a multitude of souls, disinherited in this world, dream of the invisible universe, even when the lights of philosophy are denied to them. If our nature is made to suffer, it is also made to pour out our sufferings to God, and to find in that complaint a solace and an encouragement. Prayer softens, or rather destroys, solitude; from the moment when the world abandons and flies us, we find ourselves once more in presence of the only friend who never de ceives, of him whose name is Justice. Anti he continues in a strain of uncommon force and beauty. We have taken the liberty of putting a passage in italics : Prayer is not only a resource under calamity, but a pre • servative against crime. A man yields himself up to the influence of passion; instead of remembering the lessons he has acquired in youth, he dreams of nothing but plea. sure and interest. The violence of the sensations he has stirred up within himself produces such a tumult in his soul that be is lost to everything else. He applies the utmost resources of his intelligence to the gratification of his appetites, and, while he satiates them, he dreams only of the means by which they can be revived, to be again glutted with enjoyment. In this utter subordination of his entire being to pleasure and the search after pleasure, be loses his perception of what is beautiful and just ; his will, incessantly drawn in one direction, loses its active powers and becomes incapable of resistance. His reason ing faculty, badly cultivated, supplied through deteriorated organs, full of disgraceful sophisms, weakened and misled, can no longer distinguish or follow truth ; all that it re tains of strength is employed in the indulgence of ignoble appetites, and perhaps, at last, sinks even below the level of animal instinct. Thus falls from day to day this noble creature, made to reign over creation and over himself, when, instead of turning towards heaven and commencing the life of the future upon earth, he takes the world for his 011, attaches to it his concentrated power, and glories in the oblivion of everything else. What can draw him back from these abysses in which he revolves? Perhaps a sign alone was wanting which might once more recall God to his thoughts. This single idea would have assisted him to conquer himself. The name brings with it an accompanying train of all that is grand and noble. It signifies virtue and truth. It affords a union of all the pleasures which the soul desires, and compared with which the rest are as nothing. It is a light which exhibits the rottenness of the evil painions under its real aspect. However debased a mind may be, there is somewhere within a collection of touching and revivifying remembrances which the mighty name of GA once more awakens. Every physician of the soul knows that the cure is possible from the moment when the patient can be induced to pray. Thus, whether as a con gelation or a remedy, prayer occupies an important place in human life. The animated force of the author's style can be seen in these passages. He is, also, acute in his analysis while discussing the metaphy- sics of prayer. There is great breadth of view in the following passage :- Nevertheless, it must be acknowledged that prayer is not solely an act of thanksgiving, or a sanctifying aspira tion in itself. It often becomes a supplication ; and per haps we may be permitted to say that the most perfect form of prayer is that which combines both characters. Now, when prayer comprises a request, it seems difficult to reconcile this with divine immutability ; for, on the one hand, we ask to obtain ; and on the other, God never changes his decrees. To disentangle this contradietion, let us first, before we dwell on the immutability of God, inquire what we can demand from him. Undoubtedly nothing that is wrong, for it would offend his all-perfect nature even to conceive a desire contrary to virtue. Neither can we address him with frivolous applications. We cannot say, " Command this pear to ripen ;" or, " Grant that I may gain this lawsuit." We are net allowed to require of God what we should blush to ask of a