The Works of Voltaire, Vol. IV of XLIII.: Romances, Vol. III of III, and A Treatise on Toleration.Voltaire
Philosophy
The Works of Voltaire, Vol. IV of XLIII.: Romances, Vol. III of III, and A Treatise on Toleration.
Voltaire
Voltaire, 1694-1778 -- Translations into English
GOODMAN.—Truly, upon reflection, I perceive that I know as little
about the matter as you do, though I own that I have all my life been
bold enough to believe that I knew. I have often remarked that the
eastern nations apply to the soul the same word they use to express
life. After their example, the Latins understood the word _anima_
to signify the life of the animal. The Greeks called the breath the
soul. The Romans translated the word breath by _spiritus_, and thence
it is that the word spirit or soul is found in every modern nation.
As it happens that no one has ever seen this spirit or breath, our
imagination has converted it into a being which it is impossible to
see or touch. The learned tell us that the soul inhabits the body
without having any place in it, that it has the power of setting our
different organs in motion without being able to reach and touch
them; indeed, what has not been said upon the subject? The great
Locke knew into what a chaos these absurdities had plunged the human
understanding. In writing the only reasonable book upon metaphysics
that has yet appeared in the world, he did not compose a single
chapter on the soul, and if by chance he now and then makes use of
the word, he only introduces it to stand for intellect or mind.
In fact, every human being, in spite of Bishop Berkeley, is sensible
that he has a mind, and that this mind or intellect is capable of
receiving ideas; but no one can feel that there is another being—a
soul—within him, which gives him motion, feeling, and thought. It
is, in fact, ridiculous to use words we do not understand, and to
admit the existence of beings of whom we cannot have the slightest
knowledge.
SIDRAC.—We are then agreed upon a subject which, for so many
centuries, has been a matter of dispute.
GOODMAN.—And I must observe that I am surprised we should have agreed
upon it so soon.
SIDRAC.—Oh! that is not so astonishing. We really wish to know what
is truth. If we were among the academies we should argue like the
characters in Rabelais. If we had lived in those ages of darkness,
the clouds of which so long enveloped Great Britain, one of us would
very likely have burned the other. We are so fortunate as to be born
in an age comparatively reasonable; we easily discover what appears
to us to be truth, and we are not afraid to proclaim it.
GOODMAN.—You are right, but I fear that, after all, the truth we have
discovered is not worth much. In mathematics, indeed, we have done
wonders; from the most simple causes we have produced effects that
would have astonished Apollonius or Archimedes; but what have we
proved in metaphysics? Absolutely nothing but our own ignorance.
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