Let us then consider Nature for a few moments under this new aspect. Man certainly comes into the world enveloped in darkness. His mind is equally naked with his body; he is born without knowledge and without defence, and brings nothing with him but passive qualities. He is compelled to receive the impressions of objects on his organs; even the light shines on his eyes long before he is able to recognize it. To Nature he is at first indebted for every thing, without making her any return. No sooner, however, do his senses acquire strength and activity, and he can compare his sensations, than he reflects upon the universe; he forms ideas, which he retains, extends, and combines. Man, after receiving instruction, is no longer a simple individual, for he then, in a great measure, represents the whole human species. He receives from his parents the knowledge which had been transmitted to them from their forefathers; and thus, by the divine arts of writing and printing, the present age, in some sort, becomes identified with those that are past. This accumulation of experience in one man, almost extends the limits of his being to infinity. He is born no more than a simple individual, like other animals, capable only of attending to present sensations; but he becomes afterwards nearly the being which we supposed to represent the whole species; he reads what has past, sees the present, and judges of the future; and in the torrent of time, which carries off and absorbs all the individuals of the universe, he perceives that the species are permanent, and Nature invariable. As the relations of objects are always the same, to him the order of time appears to be nothing; he considers the laws of renovation as only counterbalancing those of permanency. An uninterrupted succession of similar beings, is, in effect, only equivalent to the perpetual existence of one of them.