they are inherent in his nature? Does not experience prove them to be
useful to his conservation, since they have for object, only to avoid
that which may be injurious to him; to procure that which may be
advantageous to his mode of existence? In short, is it not easy to be
seen, that these passions, well directed, that is to say, carried
towards objects that are truly useful, that are really interesting to
himself, which embrace the happiness of others, would necessarily
contribute to the substantial, to the permanent well-being of society?
Theologians themselves have felt, they have acknowledged the necessity
of the passions: many of the fathers of the church have broached this
doctrine; among the rest Father Senault has written a book expressly on
the subject: the passions of man are like fire, at once necessary to the
wants of life, suitable to ameliorate the condition of humanity, and
equally capable of producing the most terrible ravages, the most
frightful devastation.

Every thing becomes an impulse to the will; a single word frequently
suffices to modify a man for the whole course of his life, to decide for
ever his propensities; an infant who has burned his finger by having
approached it too near the flame of a lighted taper, is warned from
thence, that he ought to abstain from indulging a similar temptation; a
man, once punished and despised for having committed a dishonest action,
is not often tempted to continue so unfavourable a course. Under
whatever point of man is considered, he never acts but after the impulse
given to his will, whether it be by the will of others, or by more
perceptible physical causes. The particular organization decides the
nature of the impulse; souls act upon souls that are analogous;
inflamed, fiery imaginations, act with facility upon strong passions;
upon imaginations easy to be inflamed, the surprising progress of
enthusiasm; the hereditary propagation of superstition; the transmission