Such has been the fate of the author of a French work, Sur la Nature, and indeed of every follower of that pernicious school of modern philosophy, which, rejecting all consideration of final causes, and despising those simple and obvious analogies that lead to the most useful and satisfactory truths, has chosen rather to pursue others, which neither its disciples, nor the rest of mankind, are in any respect suited to investigate.* Perhaps an example may serve to render me more intelligible, and to point out the general fallacy of this unhappy species of reasoning. There can be no doubt that the telescope, with all its present improvements, is the result of a most happy application of uncommon skill and ingenuity, contriving and combining all the various parts and movements of that curious machine, for the excellent purpose of assisting vision. In proportion as these movements were gradually invented and applied to use, during a long series of years: when each successive discovery was brought to the utmost extent of its perfection, mankind then observed that the human eye, in a very superior manner, enjoyed that particular advantage which they had sought for with so much art and industry, exhibiting to view a perfect achromatic instrument of vision, adapting itself with surprising facility to the different brightness of its objects, and to a vast variety of distances. At the last, a defect was discovered in the telescopes, arising from the spherical figure of the glasses; in consequence of which the focus of those rays which fall near the limb of the glass, and of such as pass near to its center, do not coincide. This defect, after various fruitless attempts to obviate it, has for many years been given up by the most ingenious as irremediable.† But though men have, in this instance, found that there are bounds placed to their utmost skill and ingenuity, yet have they learned this useful truth, that there are no discoverable limits set to the powers of that admirable Cause which formed the human eye; this error being there entirely corrected, in the curious construction of the crystalline humour, the principal refracting lens of the organ of vision'; which gradually increasing in density from the limb toward the middle, does by this wonderful variation of its refractive power in one respect, counteract the errors which would have arisen from the other consideration. This happy union of different parts and movements, as well in the natural as in the artificial machine, each attaining its own particular end, and all together without confusion or inteference, completing one greater and more excellent effect, this, I say, reasonable men denominate a work of design; and as they affirm that the telescope is an instrument formed to assist vision, in consequence of various means duly connected, by an invisible cause: (for it is plain that there is some moving principle in man, which is neither eyes, ears, hands, or head, neither the tout ensemble of all these, nor in any respect the object of our senses :) so do they believe that the human eye is an instrument made for the use of man, by an exceeding apt combination of intermediate causes, wonderfully and most unaccountably connected together, by one great, wise, and good cause; who is neither the eye itself nor any part of its mechanism, not at all * " Il est au dessous de Dieu d'agir pour une fin." Vide Des Cartes Philosoph. Maupertuis Essai de Cosmologie. Buffon Theorie de la Terre. Robinet Sur la Nature, &c. &c. † The most probable means discovered of late years, for correcting these spherical errors has been offered to the public by that excellent British artist Mr. Ramsden, who conceives them capable of being in great measure removed in the eye-glasses of telescopes (where they are most sensibly felt) by such an adjustment of the instrument as that the image formed by the object glass shall fall as near as possible to the eye-glass. See Phil. Trans. of the Royal Society of London, A. D. 1782. the object of our senses, but only visible to us through the beauty and wisdom of the works of creation, in the same manner as thought and intelligence in man are known to us through those motions and effects daily produced before us, which we do always suppose to result, originally, from a principle in some sort resembling our own minds. From hence, and a thousand other similar analogies, for apprehending which our faculties are admirably suited, mankind have reasonably inferred the existence of one superior intelligent, good Being, who is every where present; whom we see, and feel, and hear, every moment of our lives, in the visible works of nature, as we do in particular circumstances hear and feel, and see other beings whom we denominate men. To this reasoning, which does not in any respect appear uncandid or delusive, the author of the treatise Sur la Nature warmly objects. What! the eyes made for vision, which in many instances fail and become blind? The teeth and jaws made to grind food, which so often lose, and refuse to perform their office? The earth formed to support its inhabitants, while it contains volcanos which may have destroyed them by fire? Or an ocean, which has overwhelmed them under its waters? 1 These are some of the objections of that extraordinary writer, and this the general mode of argument, unhappily adopted on the continent by too many of those who have obtained the honourable title of philosophers: a false species of reasoning, in which the positive parts of human knowledge are most sophistically supplanted by what is purely negative: in which a man is required to judge of the truth of what he knows, by those other parts of nature where he is avowedly ignorant. From principles such as these the Christian religion has been hastily rejected; because the population of America, and the accidental qualities of its inhabitants, could not immediately be explained by speculative men, who had no other data whereon to reason except the imaginary extent of their own genius, together with an entire ignorance of the situation of that continent, and the qualities of its inhabitants.* From the same deceitful source of reasoning this beautiful world, so aptly formed, so wisely moved, so bountifully and yet so variously adapted to maintain its different inhabitants, that the native of every country from the equator to the poles, finds cause to bless his situation, and to boast of comforts unknown in other climates. This curious structure, the delight and wonder of the best and wisest men in every age, has been condemned by a few presumptuous sophists, as the work of blind destiny, acting through the present elements of nature, because there are many of its principles and movements of whose use they are ignorant; because there appear to be vestiges of the ravages of fire, or the inundations of the ocean, which they are not able to explain. It is most certain, that the laws of motion which now exist, could have produced this world in the beginning, neither are they capable of continuing it for ever in its present state. The interior structure of the earth, whereby its various fossil substances, though differing exceedingly from each other in specific gravity, though not arranged according to any regular law of situation, do yet constitute a world self-balanced, a sphere whose center of * The proximity of America to the continent of Asia is now perfectly ascertained by the British navigators. The confident assertion of modern philosophers, that its inhabitants were beardless, is from many quarters proved to be false; and there is every reason for believing that their copper colour, and other peculiarities, are altogether the effects of the soil and climate, since the progeny of the Europeans has been found to suffer very considerable changes in all these circumstances, even during the course of those few generations which have passed since their first establishment there. So that in these instances revealed religion, so far from apprehending danger from the discovery of truth and the improvement of human knowledge, has only suffered from the ignorance or misinformation of philosophers. gravity coincides with its centre of magnitude (without which all its motions must have been in an extreme degree irregular) evidently demands a first cause, which neither acts blindly, nor of necessity. A blind principle is not wont to labour in defiance of all chance; neither do mechanical causes usually produce their effects in contempt of the established laws of matter and inotion. The gradual ascent of our continents from the shores of the ocean, toward their mediterranean parts, so necessary for collecting the rains of heaven, and giving birth and course to those rivers which beautify and fertilize the earth: this exterior form, without which the vapours of the sea would have ascended to the clouds in vain, plainly requires the interference of some principle superior to any of the known elements of nature. Whatever the followers of Epicurus may think of these elements, no reasonable man will believe that the waves of the ocean could have created a country whose soil lies far above the level of its waters; or that the fury of volcanic eruptions could have produced an effect, so general, that we are rather led to infer the casual existence of former volcanoes in particular places, because of some apparent universal interruption to this regularity of form. The projectile force by which the earth was in the beginning made to move round the centre of light and heat; its diurnal rotation, duly diffusing this light and heat over the surface; the inclination of its axis to the plane of the ecliptic, whereby the tropical climates receive fewer of the sun's rays, while the inhabitant of the polar circle enjoys a much larger share :* all these effects, far surpassing the present powers of nature, most aptly combined together, working in concert without interference or disorder, for the attainment of one great, and good, and excellent end, clearly prove that this world has been produced by one powerful, intelligent, and benevolent principle, utterly unlike to any mechanical cause which now does exist, or that can be conceived to exist. Mechanical causes, such as we are acquainted with, evidently tend to destroy the present form of the world; and thereby afford the strongest proof that it is not by its constitution immortal. Sir Isaac Newton has demonstrated, that the perturbing forces which take place in the solar system, must in due time destroy the planetary motions, unless the first mover of all things shall choose to interfere. And it is sufficiently evident, that the slow but certain operations of heat and cold, together with the continued action of the air and storms, are capable of breaking and changing the most firm bodies, even the hardest rocks; while the numerous rivers on the earth's surface, and the waves which wash its shores, perpetually labour to bear all these substances into the bottom of the ocean, and thereby to reduce all things to a level situation. Since then the earth yet continues to circulate with regularity round the sun, not. withstanding the perturbing forces of the planets: since all the countries on its surface still retain their elevated form, in opposition to those boasted mechanical causes, that labour incessantly to destroy it; since its impetuous rivers which pursue their course toward the ocean, have not yet smoothed those abrupt and precipiceous cataracts, over which they rush with such unbridled fury, it is plain, either that the world, as we now see it, is but of a short duration; or else, that some saving hand has interfered to retard the progress of causes which in sufficient length of time must needs produce their effects. If we cast our eyes over the annals of the world, we shall find in the history of the human race a clear and decisive evidence in favour of those general truths which our religion teaches, concerning the duration of the earth and its inhabitants. The evident marks of novelty in all those arts and sciences that are the offspring of experience: the wonder and terror with which the earlier philosophers (though in other respects well informed men) were wont to behold many of those natural appearances, which longer observation has shewn to be neither uncommon nor dangerous: the general defect of all histories and traditions antecedent to a certain period at which the Jewish writings affirm the world to have been destroyed by water: these cogent circumstances afford the plainest proof that the human race has not existed here for many ages. * Vide Keil's Phys. Essays. There is not now a nation on the earth, neither has there been one for these two thousand years past, whose remote traditions extend, with any degree of probability, beyond that memorable period of the universal deluge, which is recorded in the sacred writings; so that whatever Mons. Voltaire and others may assert concerning the eternity of the world, its motions, or its inhabitants, they will find but few rational men to adopt his wild system of astronomy, or who can be persuaded to believe that the sun ever rose in the west, or that the Babylonians made observations on that luminary some millions of years ago, when it was at the north pole.* Perhaps you will say, that such language as this is silly and childish, beneath the name of philosophical, and unworthy of any answer-yet I can assure you it is the general language of that miserable school of modern philosophy, which searches for the most unknown notions in nature, to explain those that are best known; which breaks fragments from the sun by chance, and then mysteriously forms them into habitable worlds; -which makes the ocean to act where it is not; †-which quotes the fables of Ovid, or the tales of the Egyptians, as its best authority in natural history;‡-which utterly rejects the delightful and profitable pursuit of final causes; §-and holds the most precious moments of life to be well employed in endeavours to discover the thoughts and amusements of trees and stones. || If this be wisdom, we, my friend, have reason to boast that we are not wise: if these be the vaunted fruits of freedom of thought, we have good cause indeed to rejoice that we are not free; that we still retain our dependance on a wise and bountiful Providence; and have not yet fallen into that universal anarchy of opinion, where each individual labours to enthrone and to adore every wild phantom of his own wandering imagination, just as folly or caprice may chance to direct his choice. * Mons. Voltaire, and after him the Abbe Reynall, believes that the earth has an unknown motion round one of its equatorial diameters, in such sort that its axis performs an entire revolution in the space of four millions of years. Voltaire's proofs of this motion are founded on an observation of the obliquity of the equator and ecliptic, said to have been made by Pythais about two thousand years ago; on the general accounts to be met with in Ovid's Metamorphoses of strange revolutions having formerly taken place on the earth's surface; and on a wild fable of the Egyptians, affirming that the sun rose twice in the west within the memory of their nation. Nay, this extraordinary philosopher seems to imagine it not very improbable that the poles themselves may travel over different parts of the earth's surface: and it seems but a slight objection to this belief, that the oldest monuments in the world, the pyramids of Egypt, are accurately situated to face the cardinal points of the compass, the stability of which cardinal points entirely depends on the continuance of the poles of the earth in the same precise spot of the surface. † Vide Buffon's Theorie de la Terre. Vide Voltaire's Period of Four Thousand Years. Vide Des Cartes, Maupertuis, &c. | Vide Robinet sur la Nature. A JOURNEY TO PARIS IN THE YEAR 1698. BY DR. MARTIN LISTER. DEDICATION. To his excellency, John lord Somers, baron of Evesham, lord high chancellor of England, and one of the lords-justices of England. MY LORD, WISDOM is the foundation of justice and equity, and it seems not to be perfect, without it comprehends also philosophy and natural learning, and whatever is of good relish in arts. It is certain, my lord, for the honour of your high station, that the greatest philosopher of this age, was one of your predecessors; nor is your lordship in any thing behind him; as though nothing inspired people with more equity than a true value for useful learning and arts. This hath given me the boldness to offer your lordship this short account, of the magnificent and noble city of Paris, and the court of that great king, who hath given Europe so long and vehement disquiet, and cost England in particular so much blood and treasure. It is possible, my lord, you may find a leisure hour to read over these few papers for your diversion, wherein I promise myself, you will meet with nothing offensive, but clean matter of fact, and some short notes of an unprejudiced observer. But that I may no longer importune you, perpetually busied in so laborious and useful an employment, I beg leave to subscribe myself, My lord, your lordship's most humble and most obedient servant, A JOURNEY TO PARIS, &c. INTRODUCTION. MARTIN LISTER. THIS tract was written chiefly to satisfy my own curiosity, and to delight myself with the memory of what I had seen. I busied myself in a place where I had little to do, but to walk up and down; well knowing, that the character of a stranger gave me free admittance to men and things. The French nation value themselves upon civility, and build and dress mostly for figure: this humour makes the curiosity of strangers very easy and welcome to them. But why do you trouble us with a journey to Paris, a place so well known to every body here? For very good reason, to spare the often telling my tale at my return. But we know already all you can say, or can read it in the Present State of France, and Description of Paris; two books to be had in every shop in London. It is right, so you may; and I advise you not to negiect them, if you have a mind to judge well of the grandeur of the court of France, and the immense greatness of the city of Paris. These were spectacles I did indeed put on, but I found they did not fit my sight, I had a mind to see without them; and in matters of this nature, as vast cities and vast palaces, I did not care much to use microscopes or magnifying glasses. But to content you, reader, I promise you not to trouble you with ceremonies either of state or church, or politics; for I entered willingly into neither of them, but only, |