preservation of the world in its totality, while the individuals perish and the species remain.

XLIII. Man also, considered only in his physical nature, is subject to the universal law of self-love; and until he has arrived at a correct appreciation of his moral nature and duties, he will allow himself to be impelled by that law to possess himself of all that he thinks suitable to his own advantage, regardless of the detriment of others, and even of their very existence; and so will, on the other hand, every one else, being in the same condition, act towards him. But the effects of unrestrained self-love are by far more mischievous in man than in the irrational animals, for the intelligence with which he is endowed affords him more means and artifices to accomplish his selfish views, so long as he is governed by these and not by nobler impulses. Hence it happens also, that so long as a man lies under the fascination of self-love, society, of which he is called to become a member, places him in a condition, from which he looks upon his fellow-men as the natural enemies of his individual happiness; and he feels a propensity to throw obstacles, either by malice or violence, in the way of others, to prevent their attaining that which is denied to him.

XLIV. But we find, also, in man another principle diametrically opposed to self-love, which, proceeding from the noblest prerogatives of his soul, distinguishes him from the irrational creatures, and invites him to a career totally opposite to theirs. This principle, commonly called virtue, we shall express by the more comprehensive name of heroism. As by self-love man is inclined to sacrifice the welfare of others to his own, so by heroism he is led to sacrifice himself to the welfare of others. When we see a mother struggling to death, and with admirable self-devotion, against overpowering waves, or ferocious beasts, or devouring flames, to save her child from certain destruction, it would be stolidity and folly for us to bring into comparison with this act, the cares bestowed by a brute in feeding her young, since as soon as the latter has carried into effect the order of nature, she forsakes them, and, when grown, does not even recognise them; whereas the love of a mother endures beyond the grave. When a husband, bound with the indissoluble tie of affection to the woman of his heart, voluntarily sacrifices to her everything dearest in the world, and finds in her affection ample recompense for his direst privations, who would dare to attribute this to the physical sexual tendency common even to the brutes? a tendency, which, besides manifesting itself only at detached periods of time, disappears altogether in old age, whereas conjugal love runs beyond the confines of time. The same may be said of a friend, who would give his own life to save that of his beloved, of a generous warrior who risks everything for his country's sake, and of a host of others, who magnanimously devote themselves to the relief of suffering humanity; in short, of every one who feels himself moved by a superior force to cross over the boundaries of selfishness and sensuality, and to become a hero.

XLV. In all these phenomena, a principle directly adverse to that of physical nature manifests itself. While in the latter, self-love is a necessary supreme law, in the spiritual life of man we see prevailing, as a foundation to morality, a voluntary sacrifice of self, offered on the altar of love. No pain or regret ever accompanies such an offering; on the contrary, a sensible man undertakes it with cheerfulness, as a manifestation of his exalted nature, and derives from its performance a purer joy than all other earthly enjoyments could afford him. But this love, which limits and conquers self-love, this love which so well testifies to the excellence of man, whence does it proceed? Assuredly not from physical nature; this is, on the contrary, based upon a law which would destroy love. It must emanate, then, from a source, itself a prototype of moral perfection, a perpetual spring of the purest love; and this source is God. Through the effects and impressions of this celestial love, man feels the need of approaching his Creator, of finding in Him the provident Ruler of the human destinies, and of expecting from His kindness the future triumph of good, and an ultimate perfection of all things. God, providence, and the immortality of the soul, become then for him incontestable truths: and at such a knowledge he does not arrive by way of laborious instruction and logical demonstrations; but it springs up, as it were, in his inward feeling, which prompts him to regulate his life according to that sublime model of moral perfection; therefore, although reason furnishes not to him logical proofs of these truths, yet he finds the presentiment of them within his heart, he feels them, he accepts them with a force more sentimental than intellectual, he embraces them with enthusiasm, and can no longer detach himself from them; in short he believes them.

XLVI. Thus, with the same confidence with which man admits as true, what is demonstrated to his reason by solid arguments,—and he is then said to be convinced,—does he likewise give his assent to the noble inspirations of his heart, not yet depraved by abject inclinations,—and he is then said to be persuaded. Thus there are two kinds of truths, equally ascertained, and therefore equally admissible; the one proceeding from intellect and called rational truth, the other formed in the heart, and called moral truth. The source of the latter might also properly be called good sense, which in fact acts, in many circumstances of life, in lieu of pure reason. A man endowed with good sense, and who has not yet become a slave to sensual appetites, will not doubt for a moment, even without having ever been acquainted with the proofs, that lying, calumniating, blaspheming, false swearing, robbing, murdering, betraying friendship, country or honour, are culpable and abominable actions. Other truths based on good sense are also the following: the faith we have in friendship, in the rectitude of those who administer justice, in the fidelity of a beloved object, in the tenderness of parents, in the excellence of virtue, and above all, in the wisdom, goodness, and providence of God; all these things we admit within our souls, not in consequence of a cold calculation of the intellect, but through an irresistible impulse of the heart, and in consequence of a sort of presentiment springing from the consciousness of our own noble spirituality, which develops itself and gains force, in proportion as we elevate ourselves above the material propensities to which we are subject as citizens of this earth.

XLVII. Those who, throwing themselves on a severe rationalism, will recognise nothing as true but what is demonstrated to them like mathematical theorems, will look upon the sentiments above referred to as delusions of the fancy, because they see them founded but upon feeling; but they who think so are manifestly in error. If faith in God, in His providence, and in the immortality of the human soul, were a mere product of the imagination, it would last only so long as the semblance, which had given it aliment, exists; and when man is awakened to the sense of realities and facts calculated to destroy the delusion, he would be seen to withdraw from the meshes of his error, and his reason triumphant would confess the former aberration of the mind; yet it happens not so. In the moment we are struck by some grave calamity, when we see fond hopes, long cherished, vanish in an instant, or when we are on the point of losing what is dearest to us, why is faith in God and in His providence not then weakened in the religious man? Why, on the contrary, does he cling to it more and more? The reason is, because such a faith is not a cold theorem, against which some doubt may eventually arise, but a truth rooted in the love inherent in our nature; and consequently it acquires vigour with the growth of love, and its power cannot be extinguished but