men, they would be clear and intelligible to all men. If the dogmas
which this religion teaches were as important as it is asserted, they
would not only be within the comprehension of the doctors who preach
them, but of all those who hear their lessons. Is it not strange that
the very persons whose profession it is to furnish themselves with
religions knowledge, in order to impart it to others, should recognize
their own dogmas as beyond their own understanding, and that they
should obstinately inculcate to the people what they acknowledge they
do not comprehend themselves? Should we have much confidence in a
physician, who, after confessing that he was utterly ignorant of his
art, should nevertheless boast of the excellence of his remedies?
This, however, is the constant practice of our spiritual quacks. By a
strange fatality, the most sensible people consent to be the dupes of
these empirics who are perpetually obliged to avow their own profound
ignorance.
But if the mysteries of religion are incomprehensible for even those
who inculcate it,--if among those who profess it there is no one who
knows precisely what he believes, or who can give an account of either
his conduct or belief,--this is not so in regard to the difficulties
with which we oppose this religion. These objections are simple,
within the comprehension of all persons of ordinary ability, and
capable of convincing every man who, renouncing the prejudices of his
infancy, will deign to consult the good sense that nature has bestowed
upon all beings of the human race.
For a long period of time, subtle theologians have, without
relaxation, been occupied in warding off the attacks of the
incredulous, and in repairing the breaches made in the ruinous edifice
of religion by adversaries who combated under the flag of reason. In
all times there have been people who felt the futility of the titles
upon which the priests have arrogated the right of enslaving the
understandings of men, and of subjugating and despoiling nations.
Notwithstanding all the efforts of the interested and frequently
hypocritical men who have taken up the defence of religion, from which
they and their confederates alone are profited, these apologists have
never been able to vindicate successfully their _divine_ system
against the attacks of incredulity. Without cessation they have
replied to the objections which have been made, but never have they
refuted or annihilated them. Almost in every instance the defenders of
Christianity have been sustained by oppressive laws on the part of the
government; and it has only been by injuries, by declamations, by
punishments and persecutions, that they have replied to the
allegations of reason. It is in this manner that they have apparently
remained masters of the field of battle which their adversaries could
not openly contest. Yet, in spite of the disadvantages of a combat so
unequal, and although the partisans of religion were accoutred with
every possible weapon, and could show themselves openly, in accordance
with _law_, while their adversaries had no arms but those of reason,
and could not appear personally but at the peril of fines,
imprisonment, torture, and death, and were restricted from bringing
all their arsenal into service, yet they have inflicted profound,
immedicable, and incurable wounds upon superstition. Still, if we
believe the mercenaries of religion, the excellence of their system
makes it absolutely invulnerable to every blow which can be inflicted
upon it; and they pretend they have a thousand times in a victorious
manner answered the objections which are continually renewed against
them. In spite of this great security, we see them excessively alarmed
every time a new combatant presents himself, and the latter may well
and successfully use the most common objections, and those which have
most frequently been urged, since it is evident that up to the present
moment the arguments have never been obviated or opposed with
satisfactory replies. To convince you, Madam, of what I here advance,
you need only compare the most simple and ordinary difficulties which
good sense opposes to religion, with the pretended solutions that have
been given. You will perceive that the difficulties, evident even to
the capacities of a child, have never been removed by divines the most
practised in dialectics. You will find in their replies only subtle
distinctions, metaphysical subterfuges, unintelligible verbiage, which
can never be the language of truth, and which demonstrates the
embarrassment, the impotence, and the bad faith of those who are
interested by their position in sustaining a desperate cause. In a
word, the difficulties which have been urged against religion are
clear, and within the comprehension of every one, while the answers
which have been given are obscure, entangled, and far from
satisfactory, even to persons most versed in such jargon, and plainly
indicating that the authors of these replies do not themselves
understand what they say.
If you consult the clergy, they will not fail to set forth the
antiquity of their doctrine, which has always maintained itself,
notwithstanding the continual attacks of the Heretics, the Mecreans,
and the Impious generally, and also in spite of the persecutions of
the Pagans. You have, Madam, too much good sense not to perceive at
once that the antiquity of an opinion proves nothing in its favor. If
antiquity was a proof of truth, Christianity must yield to Judaism,
and that in its turn to the religion of the Egyptians and Chaldeans,
or, in other words, to the idolatry which was greatly anterior to
Moses. For thousands of years it was universally believed that the sun
revolved round the earth, which remained immovable; and yet it is not
the less true that the sun is fixed, and the earth moves around that.
Besides, it is evident that the Christianity of to-day is not what it
formerly was. The continual attacks that this religion has suffered
from heretics, commencing with its earliest history, proves that there
never could have existed any harmony between the partisans of a
pretended divine system, which offended all rules of consistency and
logic in its very first principles. Some parts of this celestial
system were always denied by devotees who admitted other parts. If
infidels have often attacked religion without apparent effect, it is
because the best reasons become useless against the blindness of a
superstition sustained by the public authority, or against the torrent
of opinion and custom which sways the minds of most men. With regard
to the persecutions which the church suffered on the part of the
pagans, he is but slightly acquainted with the effects of fanaticism
and religious obstinacy who does not perceive that tyranny is
calculated to excite and extend what it persecutes most violently.
You are not formed to be the dupe of names and authorities. The
defenders of the popular superstition will endeavor to overwhelm you
by the multiplied testimony of many illustrious and learned men, who
not only admitted the Christian religion, but who were also its most
zealous supporters. They will adduce holy divines, great philosophers,
powerful reasoners, fathers of the church, and learned interpreters,
who have successively advocated the system. I will not contest the
understanding of the learned men who are cited, which, however, was
often faulty, but will content myself with repeating that frequently
the greatest geniuses are not more clear sighted in matters of
religion than the people themselves. They did not examine the
religious opinions they taught; it may be because they regarded them
as sacred, or it may be because they never went back to first
principles, which they would have found altogether unsound, if they
had considered them without prejudice. It may also have happened
because they were interested in defending a cause with which their own
position was allied. Thus their testimony is exceptionable, and their
authority carries no great weight.
With regard to the interpreters and commentators, who for so many
ages have painfully toiled to elucidate the divine laws, to explain
the sacred books, and to fix the dogmas of Christianity, their very
labors ought to inspire us with suspicion concerning a religion which
is founded upon such books and which preaches such dogmas. They prove
that works emanating from the Supreme Being are obscure,
unintelligible, and need human assistance in order to be understood by
those to whom the Divinity wished to reveal his will. The laws of a
wise God would be simple and clear. Defective laws alone need
interpreters.
It is not, then, Madam, upon these interpreters that you should rely;
it is upon yourself; it is your own reason that you should consult. It
is _your_ happiness, it is _your_ repose, that is in question; and
these objects are too serious to allow their decision to be delegated
to any others than yourself. If religion is as important as we are
assured, it undoubtedly merits the greatest attention. If it is upon
this religion that depends the happiness of men both in this world and
in another, there is no subject which interests us so strongly, and
which consequently demands a more thorough, careful, and considerate
examination. Can there be any thing, then, more strange than the
conduct of the great majority of men? Entirely convinced of the
necessity and importance of religion, they still never give themselves
the trouble to examine it thoroughly; they follow it in a spirit of
routine and from habit; they never give any reason for its dogmas;
they revere it, they submit to it, and they groan under its weight,
without ever inquiring wherefore. In fine, they rely upon others to
examine it; and they whose judgment they so blindly receive are
precisely those persons upon whose opinions they should look with the
most suspicion. The priests arrogate the possession of judging
exclusively and without appeal of a system evidently invented for
their own utility. And what is the language of these priests? Visibly
interested in maintaining the received opinions, they exhibit them as
necessary to the public good, as useful and consoling for us all, as
intimately connected with morality, as indispensable to society, and,
in a word, as of the very greatest importance. After having thus
prepossessed our minds, they next prohibit our examining the things so
important to be known. What must be thought of such conduct? You can
only conclude that they desire to deceive you, that they fear
examination only because religion cannot sustain it, and that they
dread reason because it is able to unveil the incalculably dangerous
projects of the priesthood against the human race.
For these reasons, Madam, as I cannot too often repeat, examine for
yourself; make use of your own understanding; seek the truth in the
sincerity of your heart; reduce prejudice to silence; throw off the
base servitude of custom; be suspicious of imagination; and with these
precautions, in good faith with yourself, you can weigh with an
impartial hand the various opinions concerning religion. From
whatever source an opinion may come, acquiesce only in that which
shall be convincing to your understanding, satisfactory to your heart,
conformable to a healthy morality, and approved by virtue. Reject with
disdain whatever shocks your reason, and repulse with horror those
notions so criminal and injurious to morality which religion endeavors
to palm off for supernatural and divine virtues.
What do I say? Amiable and wise Eugenia, examine rigorously the ideas
that, by your own desire, I shall hereafter present you. Let not your
confidence in me, or your deference to my weak understanding, blind
you in regard to my opinions. I submit them to your judgment. Discuss
them, combat them, and never give them your assent until you are
convinced that in them you recognize the truth. My sentiments are
neither divine oracles nor theological opinions which it is not
permitted to canvass. If what I say is true, adopt my ideas. If I am
deceived, point out my errors, and I am ready to recognize them and to
subscribe my own condemnation. It will be very pleasant, Madam, to
learn truths of you which, up to the present time, I have vainly
sought in the writings of our divines. If I have at this moment any
advantage over you, it is due entirely to that tranquillity which I
enjoy, and of which at present you are unhappily deprived. The
agitations of your mind, the inquietudes of your body, and the
attacks of an exacting and ceremonious devotion, with which your soul
is perplexed, prevent you, for the moment, from seeing things coolly,
and hinder you from making use of your own understanding; but I have
no doubt that soon your intellect, strengthened by reason against vain
chimeras, will regain its natural vigor and the superiority which
belongs to it. In awaiting this moment that I foresee and so much
desire, I shall esteem myself extremely happy if my reflections shall
contribute to render you that tranquillity of spirit so necessary to
judge wisely of things, and without which there can be no true
happiness.
I perceive, Madam, though rather tardily, the length of this letter;
but I hope you will pardon it, as well as my frankness. They will at
least prove the lively interest I take in your painful situation, the
sincere desire I feel to bring it to a termination, and the strong
inclination which actuates me to restore you to your accustomed
serenity. Less pressing motives would never have been sufficient to
make me break silence. Your own positive orders were necessary to lead
me to speak of objects which, once thoroughly examined, give no
uneasiness to a healthy mind. It has been a law with me never to
explain myself upon the subject of religion. Experience has often
convinced me that the most useless of enterprises is to seek to
undeceive a prejudiced mind. I was very far from believing that I
ought ever to write upon these subjects. You alone, Madam, had the
power to conquer my indolence, and to impel me to change my
resolution. Eugenia afflicted, tormented with scruples, and ready to
plunge herself into gloomy austerities and superstitions, calculated
to render her unamiable to others, without contributing happiness to
herself, honored me with her confidence, and requested counsel of her
friend. She exacted that I should speak. "It is enough," I said; "let
me write for Eugenia; let me endeavor to restore the repose she has
lost; let me labor with ardor for her upon whose happiness that of so
many others is dependent."
Such, Madam, are the motives which induce me to take my pen in hand.
In looking forward to the time when you will be undeceived, I shall
dare at least to flatter myself that you will not regard me with the
same eyes with which priests and devotees look upon every one who has
the temerity to contradict their ideas. To believe them, every man who
declares himself against religion is a bad citizen, a madman armed to
justify his passions, a perturbator of the public repose, and an enemy
of his fellow-citizens, that cannot be punished with too much rigor.
My conduct is known to you; and the confidence with which you honor me
is sufficient for my apology. It is for you alone that I write. It is
to dissipate the clouds that obscure your mental horizon that I
communicate reflections which, but for reasons so pressing, I should
have always enclosed in my own bosom. If by chance they shall
hereafter fall into other hands than yours, and be found of some
utility, I shall felicitate myself for having contributed to the
establishment of happiness by leading back to reason minds which had
wandered from it, by making truth to be felt and known, and by
unmasking impostures which have caused so many misfortunes upon the
earth.
In a word, I submit my reasoning to your judgment, I confide fully in
your discretion, and I allow myself to conclude that my ideas, after
you are disabused of the vain terrors with which you are now
oppressed, will fully convince you that this religion, which is
exhibited to men as a concern the most important, the most true, the
most interesting, and the most useful, is only a tissue of
absurdities, is calculated to confound reason, to disturb the
understanding, and can be advantageous to none save those who make use
of it to govern the human race. I shall acknowledge myself in the
wrong if I do not prove, in the clearest manner, that religion is
false, useless, and dangerous, and that morality, in its stead, should
occupy the spirits and animate the souls of all men.
I shall enter more particularly into the subject in my next letter. I
shall go back to first principles, and in the course of this
correspondence I flatter myself I shall completely demonstrate that
these objects, which theology endeavors to render intricate, and to
envelop with clouds, in order to make them more respectable and
sacred, are not only entirely susceptible of being understood by you,
but that they are likewise within the comprehension of every one who
possesses even an ordinary share of good sense. If my frankness shall
appear too undisguised, I beg you to consider, Madam, that it is
necessary I should address you explicitly and clearly. I now consider
it my duty to administer an energetic and prompt remedy for the malady
with which I perceive you to be attacked. Besides, I venture to hope
that in a short time you will feel gratified that I have shown you the
truth in all its integrity and brilliancy. You will pardon me for
having dissipated the unreal and yet harassing phantoms which infested
your mind. But let my success be what it may, my efforts to confer
tranquillity upon you will at least be evidences of the interest I
take in your happiness, of my zeal to serve you, and of the respect
with which I am your sincere and attached friend.
LETTER II.
Of the Ideas which Religion gives us of the Divinity.
Every religion is a system of opinions and conduct founded upon the
notions, true or false, that we entertain of the Divinity. To judge of
the truth of any system, it is requisite to examine its principles, to
see if they accord, and to satisfy ourselves whether all its parts
lend a mutual support to each other. A religion, to be _true_, should
give us _true_ ideas of God; and it is by our reason alone that we are
able to decide whether what theology asserts concerning this being and
his attributes is true or otherwise. Truth for men is only conformity
to reason; and thus the same reason which the clergy proscribe is, in
the last resort, our only means of judging the system that religion
proposes for our assent. That God can only be the true God who is most
conformable to our reason, and the true worship can be no other than
that which reason approves.
Religion is only important in accordance with the advantages it
bestows upon mankind. The best religion must be that which procures
its disciples the most real, the most extensive, and the most durable
advantages. A false religion must necessarily bestow upon those who
practise it only a false, chimerical, and transient utility. Reason
must be the judge whether the benefits derived are real or imaginary.
Thus, as we constantly see, it belongs to reason to decide whether a
religion, a mode of worship, or a system of conduct is advantageous or
injurious to the human race.
It is in accordance with these incontestable principles that I shall
examine the religion of the Christians. I shall commence by analyzing
the ideas which their system gives us of the Divinity, which it boasts
of presenting to us in a more perfect manner than all other religions
in the world. I shall examine whether these ideas accord with each
other, whether the dogmas taught by this religion are conformable to
those fundamental principles which are every where acknowledged,
whether they are consonant with them, and whether the conduct which
Christianity prescribes answers to the notions which itself gives us
of the Divinity. I shall conclude the inquiry by investigating the
advantages that the Christian religion procures the human
race--advantages, according to its partisans, that infinitely surpass
those which result from all the other religions of the earth.
The Christian religion, as the basis of its belief, sets forth an only
God, which it defines as a pure spirit, as an eternal intelligence, as
independent and immutable, who has infinite power, who is the cause of
all things, who foresees all things, who fills immensity, who created
from nothing the world and all it encloses, and who preserves and
governs it according to the laws of his infinite wisdom, and the
perfections of his infinite goodness and justice, which are all so
evident in his works.
Such are the ideas that Christianity gives us of the Divinity. Let us
now see whether they accord with the other notions presented to us by
this religious system, and which it pretends were revealed by God
himself; or, in other words, that these truths were received directly
from the Deity, who concealed them from the remainder of mankind, and
deprived them of a knowledge of his essence. Thus the Christian
religion is founded upon a special revelation. And to whom was the
revelation made? At first to Abraham, and then to his posterity. The
God of the universe, then, the Father of all men, was only willing to
be known to the descendants of a Chaldean, who for a long series of
years were the exclusive possessors of the knowledge of the true God.
By an effect of his special kindness, the Jewish people was for a long
time the only race favored with a revelation equally necessary for all
men. This was the only people which understood the relations between
man and the Supreme Being. All other nations wandered in darkness, or
possessed no ideas of the Sovereign of nature but such as were crude,
ridiculous, or criminal.
Thus, at the very first step, do we not see that Christianity impairs
the goodness and justice of its God? A revelation to a particular
people only announces a partial God, who favors a portion of his
children, to the prejudice of all the others; who consults only his
caprice, and not real merit; who, incapable of conferring happiness
upon all men, shows his tenderness solely to some individuals, who
have, however, no titles upon his consideration not possessed by the
others. What would you say of a father who, placed at the head of a
numerous family, had no eyes but for a single one of his children, and
who never allowed himself to be seen by any of them except that
favored one? What would you say if he was displeased with the rest for
not being acquainted with his features, notwithstanding he would never
allow them to approach his person? Would you not accuse such a father
of caprice, cruelty, folly, and a want of reason, if he visited with
his anger the children whom he had himself excluded from his presence?
Would you not impute to him an injustice of which none but the most
brutal of our species could be guilty if he actually punished them for
not having executed orders which he was never pleased to give them?
Conclude, then, with me, Madam, that the revelation of a religion to
only a single tribe or nation sets forth a God neither good,
impartial, nor equitable, but an unjust and capricious tyrant, who,
though he may show kindness and preference to some of his creatures,
at any rate acts with the greatest cruelty towards all the others.
This admitted, revelation does not prove the goodness, but the caprice
and partiality of the God that religion represents to us as full of
sagacity, benevolence, and equity, and that it describes as the common
father of all the inhabitants of the earth. If the interest and
self-love of those whom he favors makes them admire the profound views
of a God because he has loaded them with benefits to the prejudice of
their brethren, he must appear very unjust, on the other hand, to all
those who are the victims of his partiality. A hateful pride alone
could induce a few persons to believe that they were, to the exclusion
of all others, the cherished children of Providence. Blinded by their
vanity, they do not perceive that it is to give the lie to universal
and infinite goodness to suppose that God was capable of favoring with
his preference some men or nations, to the exclusion of others. All
ought to be equal in his eyes if it is true they are all equally the
work of his hands.
It is, nevertheless, upon partial revelations that are founded all the
religions of the world. In the same manner that every individual
believes himself the most important being in the universe, every
nation entertains the idea that it ought to enjoy the peculiar
tenderness of the Sovereign of nature, to the exclusion of all the
others. If the inhabitants of Hindostan imagine that it was for them
alone that Brama spoke, the Jews and the Christians have persuaded
themselves that it was only for them that the world was created, and
that it is solely for them that God was revealed.