Fortuitous Poem by Isaiah Berlin

“….
Nature, and she alone, teaches philosophers what the true ends of men are.
True, nature at times speaks with too many voices.
She said to Spinoza that she was a logical system
But to Leibniz that she was a congeries of souls.
She said to Diderot that the world was a machine with cords, pulleys and springs,
Whereas to Herder she said that it was an organic living whole
To Montesquieu she talked about the infinite value of variety;
To Helvetius of unalterable uniformity.
To Rousseau she declared that she had been perverted by civilizations, sciences and the arts;
Whereas to d’Alembert she promised to reveal their secrets.
Concorcet and Paine perceived that she implants inalienable rights in man;
To Bentham she says this is mere “bawling upon paper”—‘nonsense upon stilts’.
To Berkeley she reveals herself as the language of God to man.
To Holbach she said that there was no God and Churches are conspiracies.
Pope, Shaftsbury, Rousseau see nature as a marvelous harmony.
Hegel sees her as a glorious field in which great armies clash by night.
Maistre sees her as an agony of blood, fear and self-immolation.

What is nature?....”