_Ordination_ is another very mysterious ceremony, by which the Deity

secretly bestows his invisible grace on those whom he has selected to

fill the office of the holy priesthood. According to the Catholic

religion, God gives to the priests the power of making God himself, as

we have shown above; a privilege which without doubt cannot be

sufficiently admired. With respect to the sensible effects of this

sacrament, and of the visible grace which it confers, they are

enabled, by the help of some words and certain ceremonies, to change a

profane man into one that is sacred; that is to say, who is not

profane any longer. By this spiritual metamorphosis, this man becomes

capable of enjoying considerable revenues without being obliged to do

any thing useful for society. On the contrary, heaven itself confers

on him the right of deceiving, of annoying, and of pillaging the

profane citizens, who labor for his ease and luxury.

Finally, _Marriage_ is a sacrament that confers mysterious and

invisible graces, of which we in truth have no very precise ideas.

Protestants and Infidels, who look upon marriage as a civil contract,

and not as a sacrament, receive neither more nor less of its visible

grace than the good Catholics. The former see not that those who are

married enjoy by this sacrament any secret virtue, whence they may

become more constant and faithful to the engagements they have

contracted. And I believe both you and I, Madam, have known many

people on whom it has only conferred the grace of cordially detesting

each other.

I will not now enter upon the consideration of a multitude of other

magic ceremonies, admitted by some Christian sectaries and rejected by

others, but to which the devotees who embrace them, attach the most

lofty ideas, in the firm persuasion, that God will, on that account,

visit them with his invisible grace. All these ceremonies, doubtless,

contain great mysteries, and the method of handling or speaking of

them is exceedingly mysterious. It is thus that the water on which a

priest has pronounced a few words, contained in his conjuring book,

acquires the invisible virtue of chasing away wicked spirits, who are

invisible by their nature. It is thus that the oil, on which a bishop

has muttered some certain formula, becomes capable of communicating to

men, and even to some inanimate substances, such as wood, stone,

metals, and walls, those invisible virtues which they did not

previously possess. In fine, in all the ceremonies of the church, we

discover mysteries, and the vulgar, who comprehend nothing of them,

are not the less disposed to admire, to be fascinated with, and to

respect with a blind devotion. But soon would they cease to have this

veneration for these fooleries, if they comprehended the design and

end the priests have in view by enforcing their observance.

The priests of all nations have begun by being charlatans, castle

builders, divines, and sorcerers. We find men of these characters in

nations the most ignorant and savage, where they live by the

ignorance and credulity of others. They are regarded by their ignorant

countrymen as superior beings, endowed with supernatural gifts,

favorites of the very Gods, because the uninquiring multitude see them

perform things which they take to be mighty marvellous, or which the

ignorant have always considered marvellous. In nations the most

polished, the people are always the same; persons the most sensible

are not often of the same ideas, especially on the subject of

religion; and the priests, authorized by the ancient folly of the

multitude, continue their old tricks, and receive universal applause.

You are not, then, to be surprised, Madam, if you still behold our

pontiffs and our priests exercise their magical rites, or rear castles

before the eyes of people prejudiced in favor of their ancient

illusions, and who attach to these mysteries a degree of consequence,

seeing they are not in a condition to comprehend the motives of the

fabricators. Every thing that is mysterious has charms for the

ignorant; the marvellous captivates all men; persons the most

enlightened find it difficult to defend themselves against these

illusions. Hence you may discover that the priests are always

opinionatively attached to these rites and ceremonies of their

worship; and it has never been without some violent revolution that

they have been diminished or abrogated. The annihilation of a trifling

ceremony has often caused rivers of blood to flow. The people have

believed themselves lost and undone when one bolder than the rest

wished to innovate in matters of religion; they have fancied that they

were to be deprived of inestimable advantages and invisible but saving

grace, which they have supposed to be attached by the Divinity himself

to some movements of the body. Priests the most adroit have

overcharged religion with ceremonies, and practices, and mysteries.

They fancied that all these were so many cords to bind the people to

their interest, to allure them by enthusiasm, and render them

necessary to their idle and luxurious existence, which is not spent

without much money extracted from the hard earnings of the people, and

much of that respect which is but the homage of slaves to spiritual

tyrants.

You cannot any longer, I persuade myself, Madam, be made the dupe of

these holy jugglers, who impose on the vulgar by their marvellous

tales. You must now be convinced that the things which I have touched

upon as mysteries are profound absurdities, of which their inventors

can render no reasonable account either to themselves or to others.

You must now be certified that the movements of the body and other

religious ceremonies must be matters perfectly indifferent to the wise

Being whom they describe to us as the great mover of all things. You

conclude, then, that all these marvellous rites, in which our priests

announce so much mystery, and in which the people are taught to

consider the whole of religion as consisting, are nothing more than

puerilities, to which people of understanding ought never to submit.

That they are usages calculated principally to alarm the minds of the

weak, and keep in bondage those who have not the courage to throw off

the yoke of priests. I am, &c.

LETTER VII.

Of the pious Rites, Prayers, and Austerities of Christianity.

You now know, Madam, what you ought to attach to the mysteries and

ceremonies of that religion you propose to meditate on, and adore in

silence. I proceed now to examine some of those practices to which the

priests tell us the Deity attaches his complaisance and his favors. In

consequence of the false, sinister, contradictory, and incompatible

ideas, which all revealed religions give us of the Deity, the priests

have invented a crowd of unreasonable usages, but which are

conformable to these erroneous notions that they have framed of this

Being. God is always regarded as a man full of passion, sensible to

presents, to flatteries, and marks of submission; or rather as a

fantastic and punctilious sovereign, who is very seriously angry when

we neglect to show him that respect and obeisance which the vanity of

earthly potentates exacts from their vassals.

It is after these notions so little agreeable to the Deity, that the

priests have conjured up a crowd of practices and strange inventions,

ridiculous, inconvenient, and often cruel; but by which they inform us

we shall merit the good favor of God, or disarm the wrath of the

Universal Lord. With some, all consists in prayers, offerings, and

sacrifices, with which they fancy God is well pleased. They forget

that a God who is good, who knows all things, has no need to be

solicited; that a God who is the author of all things has no need to

be presented with any part of his workmanship; that a God who knows

his power has no need of either flatteries or submissions, to remind

him of his grandeur, his power, or his rights; that a God who is Lord

of all has no need of offerings which belong to himself; that a God

who has no need of any thing cannot be won by presents, nor grudge to

his creatures the goods which they have received from his divine

bounty.

For the want of making these reflections, simple as they are, all the

religions in the world are filled with an infinite number of frivolous

practices, by which men have long strove to render themselves

acceptable to the Deity. The priests who are always declared to be the

ministers, the favorites, the interpreters of God's will, have

discovered how they might most easily profit by the errors of mankind,

and the presents which they offer to the Deity. They are thence

interested to enter into the false ideas of the people, and even to

redouble the darkness of their minds. They have invented means to

please unknown powers who dispose of their fate--to excite their

devotion and their zeal for those invisible beings of whom they were

themselves the visible representatives. These priests soon perceived

that in laboring for the Gods they labored for themselves, and that

they could appropriate the major part of the presents, sacrifices, and

offerings, which were made to beings who never showed themselves in

order to claim what their devotees intended for them.

You thus perceive, Madam, how the priests have made common cause with

the Divinity. Their policy thence obliged them to favor and increase

the errors of the human kind. They talk of this ineffable Being as of

an interested monarch, jealous, full of vanity, who gives that it may

be restored to him again; who exacts continual signs of submission and

respect; who desires, without ceasing, that men may reiterate their

marks of respect for him; who wishes to be solicited; who bestows no

grace unless it be accorded to importunity for the purpose of making

it more valuable; and, above all, who allows himself to be appeased

and propitiated by gifts from which his ministers derive the greatest

advantage.

It is evident that it is upon these ideas borrowed from monarchical

courts here below that are founded all the practices, ceremonies, and

rites that we see established in all the religions of the earth. Each

sect has endeavored to make its God a monarch the most redoubtable,

the greatest, the most despotic, and the most selfish. The people

acquainted simply with human opinions, and full of debasement, have

adopted without examination the inventions which the Deity has shown

them as the fittest to obtain his favor and soften his wrath. The

priests fail not to adapt these practices, which they have invented,

to their own system of religion and personal interest; and the

ignorant and vulgar have allowed themselves to be blindly led by these

guides. Habit has familiarized them with things upon which they never

reason, and they make a duty of the routine which has been transmitted

to them from age to age, and from father to child.

The infant, as soon as it can be made to understand any thing, is

taught mechanically to join its little hands in prayer. His tongue is

forced to lisp a formula which it does not comprehend, addressed to a

God which its understanding can never conceive. In the arms of its

nurse it is carried into the temple or church, where its eyes are

habituated to contemplate spectacles, ceremonies, and pretended

mysteries, of which, even when it shall have arrived at mature age, it

will still understand nothing. If at this latter period any one should

ask the reason of his conduct, or desire to know why he made this

conduct a sacred and important duty, he could give no explanation,

except that he was instructed in his tender years to respectfully

observe certain usages, which he must regard as sacred, as they were

unintelligible to him. If an attempt was made to undeceive him in

regard to these habitual futilities, either he would not listen, or

he would be irritated against whoever denied the notions rooted in

his brain. Any man who wished to lead him to good sense, and who

reasoned against the habits he had contracted, would be regarded by

him as ridiculous and extravagant, or he would repulse him as an

infidel and blasphemer, because his instructions lead him thus to

designate every man who fails to pursue the same routine as himself,

or who does not attach the same ideas as the devotee to things which

the latter has never examined.

What horror does it not fill the Christian devotee with if you tell

him that his priest is unnecessary! What would be his surprise if you

were to prove to him, even on the principles of his religion, that the

prayers which in his infancy he had been taught to consider as the

most agreeable to his God, are unworthy and unnecessary to this Deity!

For if God knows all, what need is there to remind him of the wants of

his creatures whom he loves? If God is a father full of tenderness and

goodness, is it necessary to ask him to "give us day by day our daily

bread"? If this God, so good, foresaw the wants of his children, and

knew much better than they what they could not know of themselves,

whence is it he bids them importune him to grant them their requests?

If this God is immutable and wise, how can his creatures change the

fixed resolution of the Deity? If this God is just and good, how can

he injure us, or place us in a situation to require the use of that

prayer which entreats the Deity _not to lead us into temptation_?

You see by this, Madam, that there is but a very small portion of what

the Christians pretend they understand and consider absolutely

necessary that accords at all with what they tell us has been dictated

by God himself. You see that the Lord's prayer itself contains many

absurdities and ideas totally contrary to those which every Christian

ought to have of his God. If you ask a Christian why he repeats

without ceasing this vain formula, on which he never reflects, he can

assign little other reason than that he was taught in his infancy to

clasp his hands, repeat words the meaning of which his priest, not

himself, is alone bound to understand. He may probably add that he has

ever been taught to consider this formula requisite, as it was the

most sacred and the most proper to merit the favor of Heaven.

We should, without doubt, form the same judgment of that multitude of

prayers which our teachers recommend to us daily. And if we believe

them, man, to please God, ought to pass a large portion of his

existence in supplicating Heaven to pour down its blessings on him.

But if God is good, if he cherishes his creatures, if he knows their

wants, it seems superfluous to pray to him. If God changes not, he has

never promised to alter his secret decrees, or, if he has, he is

variable in his fancies, like man; to what purpose are all our

petitions to him? If God is offended with us, will he not reject

prayers which insult his goodness, his justice, and infinite wisdom?

What motives, then, have our priests to inculcate constantly the

necessity of prayer? It is that they may thereby hold the minds of

mankind in opinions more advantageous to themselves. They represent

God to us under the traits of a monarch difficult of access, who

cannot be easily pacified, but of whom they are the ministers, the

favorites, and servants. They become intercessors between this

invisible Sovereign and his subjects of this nether world. They sell

to the ignorant their intercession with the All-powerful; they pray

for the people, and by society they are recompensed with real

advantages, with riches, honors, and ease. It is on the necessity of

prayer that our priests, our monks, and all religious men establish

their lazy existence; that they profess to win a place in heaven for

their followers and paymasters, who, without this intercession, could

neither obtain the favor of God, nor avert his chastisements and the

calamities the world is so often visited with. The prayers of the

priests are regarded as a universal remedy for all evils. All the

misfortunes of nations are laid before these spiritual guides, who

generally find public calamities a source of profit to themselves, as

it is then they are amply paid for their supposed mediation between

the Deity and his suffering creatures. They never teach the people

that these things spring from the course of nature and of laws they

cannot control. O, no. They make the world believe they are the

judgments of an angry God. The evils for which they can find no

remedy are pronounced marks of the divine wrath; they are

supernatural, and the priests must be applied to. God, whom they call

so good, appears sometimes obstinately deaf to their entreaties. Their

common Parent, so tender, appears to derange the order of nature to

manifest his anger. The God who is so just, sometimes punishes men who

cannot divine the cause of his vengeance. Then, in their distress,

they flee to the priests, who never fail to find motives for the

divine wrath. They tell them that God has been offended; that he has

been neglected; that he exacts prayers, offerings, and sacrifices;

that he requires, in order to be appeased, that his ministers should

receive more consideration, should be heard more attentively, and

should be more enriched. Without this, they announce to the vulgar

that their harvests will fail, that their fields will be inundated,

that pestilence, famine, war, and contagion will visit the earth; and

when these misfortunes have arrived, they declare they may be removed

by means of prayers.

If fear and terror permitted men to reason, they would discover that

all the evils, as well as the good things of this life, are necessary

consequences of the order of nature. They would perceive that a wise

God, immutable in his conduct, cannot allow any thing to transpire but

according to those laws of which he is regarded as the author. They

would discover that the calamities, sterility, maladies, contagions,

and even death itself are effects as necessary as happiness,

abundance, health, and life itself. They would find that wars, wants,

and famine are often the effects of human imprudence; that they would

submit to accidents which they could not prevent, and guard against

those they could foresee; they would remedy by simple and natural

means those against which they possessed resources; and they would

undeceive themselves in regard to those supernatural means and those

useless prayers of which the experience of so many ages ought to have

disabused men, if they were capable of correcting their religious

prejudices.

This would not, indeed, redound to the advantage of the priests, since

they would become useless if men perceived the inefficacy of their

prayers, the futility of their practices, and the absence of all

rational foundation for those exercises of piety which place the human

race upon their knees. They compel their votaries always to run down

those who discredit their pretensions. They terrify the weak minded by

frightful ideas which they hold out to them of the Deity. They forbid

them to reason; they make them deaf to reason, by conforming them to

ordinances the most out of the way, the most unreasonable, and the

most contradictory to the very principles on which they pretend to

establish them. They change practices, arbitrary in themselves, or, at

most, indifferent and useless, into important duties, which they

proclaim the most essential of all duties, and the most sacred and

moral. They know that man ceases to reason in proportion as he

suffers or is wretched. Hence, if he experiences real misfortunes, the

priests make sure of him; if he is not unfortunate they menace him;

they create imaginary fears and troubles.

In fine, Madam, when you wish to examine with your own eyes, and not

by the help of the pretensions set up and imposed on you by the

ministers of religion, you will be compelled to acknowledge the things

we have been considering as useful to the priests alone; they are

useless to the Deity, and to society they are often very obviously

pernicious. Of what utility can it be in any family to behold an

excess of devotion in the mother of that family? One would suppose it

is not necessary for a lady to pass all her time in prayers and in

meditations, to the neglect of other duties. Much less is it the part

of a Catholic mother to be closeted in mystic conversation with her

priest. Will her husband, her children, and her friends applaud her

who loses most of her time in prayers, and meditations, and practices,

which can tend only to render her sour, unhappy, and discontented?

Would it not be much better that a father or a mother of a family

should be occupied with what belonged to their domestic affairs than

to spend their time in masses, in hearing sermons, in meditating on

mysterious and unintelligible dogmas, or boasting about exercises of

piety that tend to nothing?

Madam, do you not find in the country you inhabit a great many

devotees who are sunk in debt, whose fortune is squandered away on

priests, and who are incapable of retrieving it? Content to put their

conscience to rights on religious matters, they neither trouble

themselves about the education of their children, nor the arrangement

of their fortune, nor the discharge of their debts. Such men as would

be thrown into despair did they omit one mass, will consent to leave

their creditors without their money, ruined by their negligence as

much as by their principles. In truth, Madam, on what side soever you

survey this religion, you will find it good for nothing.

What shall we say of those fetes which are so multiplied amongst us?

Are they not evidently pernicious to society? Are not all days the

same to the Eternal? Are there _gala_ days in heaven? Can God be

honored by the business of an artisan or a merchant, who, in place of

earning bread on which his family may subsist, squanders away his time

in the church, and afterwards goes to spend his money in the public

house? It is necessary, the priests will tell you, for man to have

repose. But will he not seek repose when he is fatigued by the labor

of his hands? Is it not more necessary that every man should labor in

his vocation than go to a temple to chant over a service which

benefits only the priests, or hear a sermon of which he can understand

nothing? And do not such as find great scruple in doing a necessary

labor on Sunday frequently sit down and get drunk on that day,

consuming in a few hours the receipts of their week's labor? But it

is for the interest of the clergy that all other shops should be shut

when theirs are open. We may thence easily discover why fetes are

necessary.

Is it not contrary to all the notions which we can form of the

goodness and wisdom of the Divinity, that religion should form into

duties both abstinence and privations, or that penitences and

austerities should be the sole proofs of virtue? What should be said

of a father who should place his children at a table loaded with the

fruits of the earth, but who, nevertheless, should debar them from

touching certain of them, though both nature and reason dictated their

use and nutriment? Can we, then, suppose that a Deity wise and good

interdicts to his creatures the enjoyment of innocent pleasures, which

may contribute to render life agreeable, or that a God who has created

all things, every object the most desirable to the nourishment and

health of man, should nevertheless forbid him their use? The Christian

religion appears to doom its votaries to the punishment of Tantalus.

The most part of the superstitions in the world have made of God a

capricious and jealous sovereign, who amuses himself by tempting the

passions and exciting the desires of his slaves, without permitting

them the gratification of the one or the enjoyment of the other. We

see among all sects the portraiture of a chagrined Deity, the enemy of

innocent amusements, and offended at the well being of his creatures.

We see in all countries many men so foolish as to imagine they will

merit heaven by fighting against their nature, refusing the goods of

fortune, and tormenting themselves under an idea that they will

thereby render themselves agreeable to God. Especially do they believe

that they will by these means disarm the fury of God, and prevent the

inflictions of his chastisements, if they immolate themselves to a

being who always requires victims.

Letters to Eugenia; Or, A Preservative Against Religious Prejudices · 第 9 / 18 段