Society And its Purpose
Book 4 - Psychological Laws and the End of Civil Societies
CHAPTER 24
Continuation — How the infinite capacity of desire can endure without any determined object
742. We still have to say something about the second objection put to us: `If the infinite capacity of the spirit is opened up through the knowledge and experience of an infinite being, this capacity should conversely be restricted in those who do not desire the object of the same experience, for example, those who reject Christian beliefs or do not conform their heartfelt affections to these beliefs.’
743. We need to distinguish happiness, that is, the greatness of the desired good, from the object suitable for realising that happiness or great good. Nothing is easier to conceive than that an individual may want and intend to obtain some given happiness, some given greatness of good, while ignoring the object suitable for bringing this about. He could erroneously search for things altogether unsuitable for obtaining the greatness of good which he desires. It is, of course, true that there can be no desire without an object. At the same time, we have to consider that the object of desire is presented to our cognition in different ways. Sometimes we know it as proper and positive, sometimes as general and abstract, and sometimes at different levels of abstraction. Different ways of desiring the object will correspond to each of these different ways of knowing it.
744. If our cognition is determined, proper and positive, desire will also be determined to its own proper object. If cognition indicates only the general characteristics of the object, without fully determining it, desire also remains vague and undetermined. The most undetermined knowledge of all, which nevertheless can serve as a support to the affection of our desire, is that presented by good in general. Another cognition presenting a rather less undetermined object is that of happiness in general. This is an abstract concept; here, the proper object forming and actuating happiness is not expressed in the idea of happiness; it still has to be sought through human freedom.
It is precisely this happiness conceived abstractly which serves as the object of the infinite, undetermined capacity of which we are speaking. By means of this capacity, the individual feels that he wants some limitless good, but he does not know what this good is; he does not perceive it, and has no positive concept of it.
745. Notice that when human beings have perceived an object, the positive knowledge of the object endures even though the object itself is later removed from their feeling. The same can be said about objects of desire. In order that desire may be actuated in the human spirit, it is necessary that some positive knowledge of an object should have been involved from the beginning; nevertheless, desire outlives positive knowledge of the object. It simply happens that as positive knowledge grows weaker, or is lost altogether in the general conception of some great good, the desire also, without losing its intensity, does in some way break free of its limits. We desire, and we desire intensely, but we cannot name exactly the object we desire. Our affection, or rather our soul’s general attitude of affection, remains in act; the capacity of our heart is open like a yawning gap which we try in vain to close by throwing in different materials. We do not know who will be heroic enough to close the chasm by plunging into it. This capacity, bereft of any determined object, when opened in many individuals belonging to a social body, is propagated to the whole body and preserved from generation to generation. The example of immoderate wishes, and language, are sufficient to communicate it.
746. Some authors have distinguished the religious feeling observed in all peoples and at all times from the various forms which this feeling is capable of producing in religions and in acts of divine worship.(332) Two fundamental errors can be observed in this doctrine. In the first, it is falsely supposed that religious feeling precedes religions and has produced them as a result of its need to manifest itself under determined forms. Psychology shows, on the contrary, that although the germ of religious feeling lies in human nature itself, it could never be developed and changed into true feeling and an actual need of religion if external communication, operating through language, had not provided human beings with some knowledge of the divinity. History, in agreement with psychology, shows that religion preceded religious feeling in humanity, not vice versa. The first religion, having found the human spirit disposed by nature, enkindled a religious feeling; this in turn survived the ruin of the first religion which had produced it.
747. The second error of the doctrine consists in considering all so-called religions from the same point of view, without distinguishing religion as such from its various corruptions in the endless superstitions commonly called religions. Such improper use of the word gives rise to a long chain of sophisms. Instead, we should say that human spirits were opened to the need for religious forms after religion, already communicated to human beings, had produced religious feeling in them. That need remained when the first religion decreased as a result of the sensual corruption which had entered mankind through ignorance and the obscuring of the understanding. Mankind needed to substitute other forms for that of religion, which had perished because it was too majestic and pure for the material state to which mankind had reduced itself. From this moment, the activity of religious feeling began to use the ruins of the ancient religion which itself was mixed with other materials to manufacture religious forms totally conformed to the state of the human mind and heart. This is the true element in the distinction between feeling and religious forms found in the author we have mentioned.
748. It is true, therefore, that some religious feeling was always present in mankind — provided we grant that it was aroused by the knowledge and experience of the divinity communicated to the first human beings. It is also true that this feeling found itself without an object as religion diminished; it became one of those vague needs and undetermined desires whose existence we wish to ascertain in this chapter. Thirdly, it is true that all these vague, undetermined desires, as well as religious feeling, have in themselves a tendency to self-security, self-determination, and self-expression in definite forms. Finally, it is also true that human beings, having stimulated themselves to find determined forms and objects for their vague desires and general feelings, did not always find these objects adequate. In such circumstances, mankind only achieves what it knows, what it is capable of and what it wants. In this case, the result of its effort necessarily shows the mark of its ignorance and malice. Mankind willingly deceives itself, and persuades itself of satisfaction from forms and objects absolutely incapable of satisfying it.
The time then comes when it tires of the forms it has discovered and the objects on which it has concentrated its attention. Opening its eyes, and realising its illusion, it goes off in search of better objects and more suitable forms. It is forced to change these over and over again according to a certain type of progress which, instead of leading mankind ultimately to the truth, only succeeds in bringing it finally to a state in which, tired of all forms and of all religious objects, it rejects them all and abandons itself to impiety and atheism. Here, humanity is close to true religion; in such an extremity it feels more than ever the yearning of its heart which longs once more for a God, a true God, an infinite God.
God the Almighty waited for humanity which, having abandoned him, was at the brink of death. He allowed human beings to exhaust all their attempts to provide a surrogate of the divine nature for themselves. The moment of grace arrived when he saw mankind, fallen into the depth of evil, in despair at ever returning to its starting point. Christ came and said: `Behold, the regions are white for the harvest.’
This is the thread to be followed by anyone wishing to write the history of ancient superstitions — of this strange labyrinth in which humanity had lost itself without hope of exit until he came who at the very moment of despair would lead it out.
Notes
(332) B. Constant.