Let us proceed in our destructive march, and now suddenly make all animals deaf. The musician becomes the actor of a silent pantomime; the bell-rope is pulled, and only the mute metal is struck; conversation is reduced to oral gestures, and the howlings of brutes are only the opening and closing of their mouths. But the air vibrates as before; its columns strike as before the drum of the ear; nothing has been changed; nothing has failed in the universe but one sensation. The lightning ploughs the skies, rivers follow their majestic course, torrents dash onwards with the same rapidity, and the proud cascade still leaps from its lofty rocks, and displays its changing hues and foaming waves. But let us now commit the greatest cruelty; let us make all living creatures blind. The sun still pours out his immense torrents of the fluid we call light; it is reflected from surfaces, and is refracted from the bodies it meets, and passes to the retinas of eyes that formerly saw, but are now converted into insensible membranes, placed behind a crystal; but every thing called color and sensation of light has disappeared. Yet the universe exists as before, and the celestial bodies still follow their immense orbits. As it is most difficult for us to abstract the sensation of light and colors from objects; or, in other words, as we have a certain propensity to imagine that there really exist without us impressions which are only in us, and to consider the sensation as a representation of the exterior; so it costs us most to conceive all living creatures to be blind, and nothing to remain of what sensations of this kind represented to us, not even a fluid which reflects from certain surfaces, and passes through some bodies, not otherwise than as an invisible fluid. Wherefore, in condescension to the difficulty which some experience in ceasing to externally realize what exists only within them, we will frame our supposition differently; for it will then be all that the demonstration requires, and we may eliminate from objects whatever relates to any sensation excepting that of extension. We will not then make all animals blind, nor practise the cruelty of Ulysses in the cave of Polyphemus, but spare in our inversion of the world that destructive instinct. It matters little that men and animals are not blind, provided they cannot see. We will then leave those organs untouched, but we will in return, take all light from the universe; quench like faint torches the sun and stars and all the celestial bodies, extinguish their feeblest scintillations upon the earth, the tall tapers which illumine the rich man's dwelling, and the fire kindled in the peasant's cot, the spark struck from the flint, and the pale phosphorescences emitted from the graves of the dead. Every thing is involved in obscurity, and it is as if that darkness which rested upon the face of the abyss before the Creator said: _let there be light_, were restored.