er hook one another, because they never meet. But,
however, after having supposed that two crooked atoms unite by
hooking one another, the Epicurean must be forced to own that the
thinking being, which is free in his operations, and which
consequently is not a collection of atoms, ever moved by necessary
laws, is incorporeal, and could not by its figure be hooked with the
body it animates. Thus which way so ever the Epicurean turns, he
overthrows his system with his own hands. But let us not, by any
means, endeavour to confound men that err and mistake, since we are
men as well as they, and no less subject to error. Let us only pity
them, study to light and inform them with patience, edify them, pray
for them, and conclude with asserting an evident truth.

SECT. LXXXVIII. We must necessarily acknowledge the Hand of a
First Cause in the Universe without inquiring why that first Cause
has left Defects in it.

Thus everything in the universe--the heavens, the earth, plants,
animals, and, above all, men--bears the stamp of a Deity.
Everything shows and proclaims a set design, and a series and
concatenation of subordinate causes, over-ruled and directed with
order by a superior cause.

It is preposterous and foolish to criticise upon this great work.
The defects that happen to be in it proceed either from the free and
disorderly will of man, which produces them by its disorder, or from
the ever holy and just will of God, who sometimes has a mind to
punish impious men, and at other times by the wicked to exercise and
improve the good. Nay, it happens oftentimes that what appears a
defect to our narrow judgment in a place separate from the work is
an ornament with respect to the general design, which we are not
able to consider with views sufficiently extended and simple to know
the perfection of the whole. Does not daily experience show that we
rashly censure certain parts of men's works for want of being
thoroughly acquainted with the whole extent of their designs and
schemes? This happens, in particular, every day with respect to the
works of painters and architects. If writing characters were of an
immense bigness, each character at close view would take up a man's
whole sight, so that it would not be possible for him to see above
one at once; and, therefore, he would not be able to read--that is,
put different letters together, and discover the sense of all those
characters put together. It is the same