nd
our prejudices. But the conscience, the heart, the conditions of the
existence of human society, are neither prejudices nor personal
interests; they are eternal and living realities. We speak of the
conscience, of the heart, of society, and they answer us: "We do not
believe that there are true sciences in that domain; we only wish for
facts." Occasionally we hear naturalists speak in this way. We only wish
for facts! Then our thoughts, our feelings, our conscience are not
facts! The man who will give the closest observation to the steps of a
fly, or to a caterpillar's method of crawling, has not a moment's
attention to give to the impulses of the heart, to the rules of duty, to
the struggles of the will; and when addressed on the subject of these
realities of the soul, the most certain of all realities, he will reply:
"That is no business of mine, I want nothing but facts." Let us pass
from this aberration, and listen for a moment to other objectors.

We do not deny, it is often said, the reality of our feelings. Man
desires happiness, and seeks it in religious belief; but this is an
order of things which science cannot take account of. Science has only
truth for its object, and owes its own existence wholly to the reason.
If it happens to science to give pain to the heart or to the conscience,
no conclusion can thence be drawn against the certainty of its results.
"There is no commoner, and at the same time faultier, way of reasoning,
than that of objecting to a philosophical hypothesis the injury it may
do to morals and to religion. When an opinion leads to absurdity, it is
certainly false; but it is not certain that it is false because it
entails dangerous consequences."[38] So wrote the patriarch of modern
sceptics, the Scotchman Hume. The lesson has been well learnt; it is
repeated to us, without end, in the columns of the leading journals of
France, and in the pages of the _Revue des deux Mondes_. The adversaries
of spiritual beliefs have changed their tactics. In the last century,
they replied to minds alarmed for the consequences of their work: "Truth
can never do harm."--"Truth can never do harm," retorted J.J. Rousseau:
"I believe it as you do, and this it is that proves to me that your
doctrines are not truth." The argument is conclusive. So the adversary
has taken up another position; and he says at this day:--"Our doctrines
do perhaps pain the heart, and wound the conscience, but this is no
reason why t