Chapter XIV
Original French
Progrès de l’esprit de l’Ingénu.
L’Ingénu fesait des progrès rapides dans les sciences, et surtout dansla science de l’homme. La cause du développement rapide de son espritétait due à son éducation sauvage presque autant qu’à la trempe de sonâme; car, n’ayant rien appris dans son enfance, il n’avait point apprisde préjugés. Son entendement n’ayant point été courbé par l’erreurétait demeuré dans toute sa rectitude. Il voyait les choses comme ellessont, au lieu que les idées qu’on nous donne dans l’enfance nous lesfont voir toute notre vie comme elles ne sont point. Vos persécuteurssont abominables, disait-il à son ami Gordon. Je vous plains d’êtreopprimé, mais je vous plains d’être janséniste. Toute secte me paraîtle ralliement de l’erreur. Dites-moi s’il y a des sectes en géométrie?Non, mon cher enfant, lui dit en soupirant le bon Gordon; tous leshommes sont d’accord sur la vérité quand elle est démontrée, mais ilssont trop partagés sur les vérités obscures.—Dites sur les faussetésobscures. S’il y avait eu une seule vérité cachée dans vos amasd’arguments qu’on ressasse depuis tant de siècles, on l’auraitdécouverte sans doute; et l’univers aurait été d’accord au moins sur cepoint-là. Si cette vérité était nécessaire comme le soleil l’est à laterre, elle serait brillante comme lui. C’est une absurdité, c’est unoutrage au genre humain, c’est un attentat contre l’Être infini etsuprême de dire: il y a une vérité essentielle à l’homme, et Dieu l’acachée. Tout ce que disait ce jeune ignorant, instruit par la nature,fesait une impression profonde sur l’esprit du vieux savant infortuné.Serait-il bien vrai, s’écria-t-il, que je me fusse rendu malheureux pourdes chimères? Je suis bien plus sûr de mon malheur que de la grâceefficace. J’ai consumé mes jours à raisonner sur la liberté de Dieu etdu genre humain; mais j’ai perdu la mienne; ni saint Augustin ni saintProsper ne me tireront de l’abîme où je suis.
L’Ingénu, livré à son caractère, dit enfin: Voulez-vous que je vousparle avec une confiance hardie? Ceux qui se font persécuter pour cesvaines disputes de l’école me semblent peu sages; ceux qui persécutentme paraissent des monstres.
Les deux captifs étaient fort d’accord sur l’injustice de leurcaptivité. Je suis cent fois plus à plaindre que vous, disait l’Ingénu;je suis né libre comme l’air; j’avais deux vies, la liberté et l’objetde mon amour: on me les ôte. Nous voici tous deux dans les fers, sanssavoir la raison et sans pouvoir la demander. J’ai vécu Huron vingtans; on dit que ce sont des barbares, parcequ’ils se vengent de leursennemis; mais ils n’ont jamais opprimé leurs amis. A peine ai-je mis lepied en France, que j’ai versé mon sang pour elle; j’ai peut-être sauvéune province, et pour récompense je suis englouti dans ce tombeau desvivants, où je serais mort de rage sans vous. Il n’y a donc point delois dans ce pays? on condamne les hommes sans les entendre! Il n’enest pas ainsi en Angleterre. Ah! ce n’était pas contre les Anglais queje devais me battre. Ainsi sa philosophie naissante ne pouvait dompterla nature outragée dans le premier de ses droits, et laissait un librecours à sa juste colère.
Son compagnon ne le contredit point. L’absence augmente toujoursl’amour qui n’est pas satisfait, et la philosophie ne le diminue pas.Il parlait aussi souvent de sa chère Saint-Yves que de morale et demétaphysique. Plus ses sentiments s’épuraient, et plus il aimait. Illut quelques romans nouveaux; il en trouva peu qui lui peignissent lasituation de son âme. Il sentait que son coeur allait toujours au-delàde ce qu’il lisait. Ah! disait-il, presque tous ces auteurs-là n’ontque de l’esprit et de l’art. Enfin le bon prêtre janséniste devenaitinsensiblement le confident de sa tendresse. Il ne connaissait l’amourauparavant que comme un péché dont on s’accuse en confession. Il apprità le connaître comme un sentiment aussi noble que tendre, qui peutélever l’âme autant que l’amollir, et produire même quelquefois desvertus. Enfin, pour dernier prodige, un Huron convertissait unjanséniste.
Musean translation
Complete machine-assisted Musean translation made directly from the French, independently of the Plain English edition. All twenty chapters and Voltaire’s three author notes are retained; Beuchot’s editorial apparatus is omitted.
The progress of the Ingénu's mind.
The Ingénu made rapid progress in knowledge, and above all in the knowledge of humanity. His mind's swift development owed almost as much to his upbringing among savages as to the temper of his soul; for, having learned nothing in childhood, he had learned no prejudices. His understanding, never bent by error, had kept all its uprightness. He saw things as they are, whereas the ideas we are given in childhood make us see them all our lives as they are not. "Your persecutors are abominable," he told his friend Gordon. "I pity you for being oppressed, but I also pity you for being a Jansenist. Every sect seems to me a rallying point for error. Tell me, are there sects in geometry?" "No, my dear child," good Gordon told him with a sigh. "All men agree on truth when it is demonstrated, but they are too divided over obscure truths." "Say rather obscure falsehoods. If there had been a single truth hidden in your heaps of arguments, endlessly rehashed for so many centuries, surely it would have been discovered, and the whole world would have agreed at least on that point. If this truth were as necessary as the sun is to the earth, it would shine as brightly. It is an absurdity, an outrage against humankind, an assault upon the infinite and supreme Being, to say: there is a truth essential to man, and God has hidden it." Everything this ignorant young man, taught by nature, said made a profound impression on the mind of the unfortunate old scholar. "Can it really be true," he cried, "that I have made myself miserable for chimeras? I am far more certain of my misfortune than of efficacious grace. I have spent my days reasoning about the freedom of God and humankind, but I have lost my own; neither Saint Augustine nor Saint Prosper will draw me from the abyss where I lie."
The Ingénu, giving his nature free rein, said at last, "May I speak to you with bold frankness? Those who bring persecution upon themselves for these empty disputes of the schools seem to me unwise; those who persecute seem to me monsters."
The two prisoners were entirely agreed on the injustice of their imprisonment. "I am a hundred times more to be pitied than you," said the Ingénu. "I was born free as the air; I had two lives, liberty and the object of my love: both are taken from me. Here we both are in irons, without knowing the reason and without being able to ask it. I lived as a Huron for twenty years; people call them barbarians because they avenge themselves on their enemies, but they have never oppressed their friends. I had scarcely set foot in France before I shed my blood for her; perhaps I saved a province, and as my reward I have been swallowed up in this tomb of the living, where I should have died of rage without you. Are there no laws in this country, then? Men are condemned without a hearing! It is not so in England. Ah! It was not the English I should have fought." Thus his dawning philosophy could not subdue nature outraged in the first of her rights, and allowed his just anger free course.
His companion did not contradict him. Absence always increases unsatisfied love, and philosophy does not diminish it. He spoke of his dear Saint-Yves as often as of morality and metaphysics. The more his feelings were refined, the more he loved. He read a few new novels; he found few that pictured the state of his soul. He felt that his heart always went beyond what he read. "Ah!" he said. "Almost all these authors have nothing but wit and art." At last the good Jansenist priest gradually became the confidant of his love. Before, he had known love only as a sin one admits in confession. He learned to know it as a feeling as noble as it is tender, which can elevate the soul as much as soften it, and sometimes even produce virtues. Finally, as the last marvel, a Huron was converting a Jansenist.
Plain English translation
Complete machine-assisted Plain English translation made independently and directly from the French, not from the Musean edition. All twenty chapters and Voltaire’s three author notes are retained; Beuchot’s editorial apparatus is omitted.
The Ingénu's mind develops.
The Ingénu quickly advanced in the sciences, especially the study of human beings. His mind developed so quickly almost as much because of his upbringing outside civilization as because of his character. Having learned nothing as a child, he had learned no prejudices. His understanding had never been bent by error and had stayed entirely straight. He saw things as they are, whereas the ideas given to us in childhood make us see them throughout life as they are not. "Your persecutors are horrible," he told his friend Gordon. "I feel sorry for you because you're oppressed, but I also feel sorry for you because you're a Jansenist. Every sect seems to me a gathering around error. Tell me, are there sects in geometry?" "No, my dear boy," good Gordon said with a sigh. "Everyone agrees about truth when it's proved, but people are too divided about obscure truths." "Call them obscure falsehoods. If a single truth had been hidden in those heaps of arguments people have gone over for so many centuries, surely it would have been found. The whole world would at least have agreed on that point. If this truth were as necessary as the sun is to the earth, it would shine like the sun. It's absurd, an insult to humanity, an attack on the infinite and supreme Being, to say there's a truth essential to human beings and God has hidden it." Everything this ignorant young man, taught by nature, said deeply affected the unfortunate old scholar. "Can it really be," he cried, "that I've made myself miserable over fantasies? I'm much more certain of my misery than of efficacious grace. I've used up my days arguing about God's freedom and humanity's, but I've lost my own. Neither Saint Augustine nor Saint Prosper will get me out of the pit I'm in."
At last the Ingénu spoke in his usual way. "May I speak to you with bold frankness? People who get themselves persecuted over these pointless academic disputes seem unwise to me. The persecutors seem like monsters."
The two prisoners agreed completely that their imprisonment was unjust. "I deserve a hundred times more pity than you," the Ingénu said. "I was born free as the air. I had two lives: freedom and the person I love. They've taken both away. Here we both are in chains, without knowing why or being allowed to ask. I lived as a Huron for twenty years. People call them barbarians because they take revenge on their enemies, but they've never oppressed their friends. I'd hardly set foot in France before I shed my blood for her. I may have saved a province. My reward is to be swallowed up in this tomb for the living, where I'd have died of rage without you. Are there no laws in this country? People are condemned without a hearing! It isn't like that in England. Oh, I shouldn't have been fighting the English." His new philosophy could not subdue a nature violated in its most basic right, and it let his justified anger run free.
His companion did not disagree. Absence always strengthens love that has not been satisfied, and philosophy does not lessen it. He spoke about his dear Saint-Yves as often as about morals and metaphysics. As his feelings became purer, his love grew. He read some new novels but found few that pictured what was happening in his soul. He felt his heart always went beyond what he read. "Oh," he said, "nearly all these writers have nothing but cleverness and skill." Gradually, the good Jansenist priest became the person he confided in about his love. Before this, Gordon had known love only as a sin people admit in confession. He learned to know it as a feeling both noble and tender, able to raise the soul as well as soften it, and even sometimes to produce virtues. Finally, one last marvel: a Huron was converting a Jansenist.
About this section
Chapter XIV is part of L’Ingénu, histoire véritable tirée des manuscrits du P. Quesnel by Voltaire. This page sets the French original beside 2 direct-source translations, so any line can be checked against the source. It is chapter 14 of 20 in the work, which is kept in the European tradition.
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