roceeded. In this manner the
generality of men pass away their lives upon earth. Say nothing to
them, and they will think on nothing except what flatters either
their brutish passions or vanity. Their souls grow so heavy and
unwieldy that they cannot raise their thoughts to any incorporeal
object. Whatever is not palpable and cannot be seen, tasted, heard,
felt, or told, appears chimerical to them. This weakness of the
soul, turning into unbelief, appears strength of mind to them; and
their vanity glories in opposing what naturally strikes and affects
the rest of mankind, just as if a monster prided in not being formed
according to the common rules of Nature, or as if one born blind
boasted of his unbelief with respect to light and colours, which
other men perceive and discern.

SECT. XCII. A Prayer to God.

O my God, if so many men do not discover Thee in this great
spectacle Thou givest them of all Nature, it is not because Thou art
far from any of us. Every one of us feels Thee, as it were, with
his hand; but the senses, and the passions they raise, take up all
the attention of our minds. Thus, O Lord, Thy light shines in
darkness; but darkness is so thick and gloomy that it does not admit
the beams of Thy light. Thou appearest everywhere; and everywhere
unattentive mortals neglect to perceive Thee. All Nature speaks of
Thee and resounds with Thy holy name; but she speaks to deaf men,
whose deafness proceeds from the noise and clutter they make to stun
themselves. Thou art near and within them; but they are fugitive,
and wandering, as it were, out of themselves. They would find Thee,
O Sweet Light, O Eternal Beauty, ever old and ever young, O Fountain
of Chaste Delights, O Pure and Happy Life of all who live truly,
should they look for Thee within themselves. But the impious lose
Thee only by losing themselves. Alas! Thy very gifts, which should
show them the hand from whence they flow, amuse them to such a
degree as to hinder them from perceiving it. They live by Thee, and
yet they live without thinking on Thee; or, rather, they die by the
Fountain of Life for want of quenching their drought in that
vivifying stream; for what greater death can there be than not to
know Thee, O Lord? They fall asleep in Thy soft and paternal bosom,
and, full of the deceitful dreams by which they are tossed in their
sleep, they are insensible of the powerful hand that supports them.
If Thou wert a barren, impot