derived, as they must be, from the nature of man, the uniform
experience and the universal reason of mankind. These precepts are
compulsory upon our minds, for they show us that the consequences of
our conduct flow from our actions with as natural and inevitable a
certainty as the return of a stone to the earth after the impetus is
exhausted which detained it in the air. It is natural and inevitable
that the man who employs himself in doing good must be preferred to
the man who does mischief. Every thinking being must be penetrated
with the truth of this incontrovertible maxim, and all the ponderous
volumes of theology that ever were composed can add nothing to the
force of his conviction; every thinking being will, therefore, avoid a
conduct calculated to injure either himself or others; he will feel
himself under the necessity of doing good to others, as the only
method of obtaining solid happiness for himself, and of conciliating
to himself those sentiments on the part of others, without which he
could derive no charms from society.
You perceive, then, Madam, that _faith_ cannot in any manner
contribute to the correction of social conduct, and you will feel
that the popular supernatural notions cannot add any thing to the
obligations that our nature imposes upon us. In fact, the more
mysterious and incomprehensible are the dogmas of the church, the more
likely are they to draw us aside from the plain dictates of Nature and
the straight-forward directions of Reason, whose voice is incapable of
misleading us. A candid survey of the causes which produce an infinity
of evils that afflict society will quickly point out the speculative
tenets of theology as their most fruitful source. The intoxication of
enthusiasm and the frenzy of fanaticism concur in overpowering reason,
and by rendering men blind and unreflecting, convert them into enemies
both of themselves and the rest of the world. It is impossible for the
worshippers of a tyrannical, partial, and cruel God to practise the
duties of justice and philanthropy. As soon as the priests have
succeeded in stifling within us the commands of Reason, they have
already converted us into slaves, in whom they can kindle whatever
passions it may please them to inspire us with.
Their interest, indeed, requires that we should be slaves. They exact
from us the surrender of our reason, because our reason contradicts
their impostures, and would ruin their plans of aggrandizement. Faith
is the instrument by which they enslave us and make us subservient to
their own ambition. Hence arises their zeal for the propagation of the
faith; hence arises their implacable hostility to science, and to all
those who refuse submission to their yoke; hence arises their
incessant endeavor to establish the dominion of Faith, (that is to
say, their own dominion,) even by fire and sword, the only arguments
they condescend to employ.
It must be confessed that society derives but little advantage from
this supernatural faith which the church has exalted into the first of
virtues. As it regards God, it is perfectly useless to him, since if
he wishes mankind to be convinced, it is sufficient that he wills them
to be so. It is utterly unworthy of the supreme wisdom of God, who
cannot exhibit himself to mortals in a manner contradictory to the
reason with which he has endowed them. It is unworthy of the divine
justice, which cannot require from mankind to be convinced of that
which they cannot understand. It denies the very existence of God
himself, by inculcating a belief totally subversive of the only
rational idea we are able to form of the Divinity.
As it regards morality, faith is also useless. Faith cannot render it
either more sacred or more necessary than it already is by its own
inherent essence, and by the nature of man. Faith is not only useless,
but injurious to society, since, under the plea of its pretended
necessity, it frequently fills the world with deplorable troubles and
horrid crimes. In short, faith is self-contradictory, since by it we
are required to believe in things inconsistent with each other, and
even incompatible with the principles laid down in the books which we
have already investigated, and which contain what we are commanded to
believe.
To whom, then, is faith found to be advantageous? To a few men, only,
who, availing themselves of its influence to degrade the human mind,
contrive to render the labor of the whole world tributary to their own
luxury, splendor, and power. Are the nations of the earth any happier
for their faith, or their blind reliance on priests? Certainly not. We
do not there find more morality, more virtue, more industry, or more
happiness; but, on the contrary, wherever the priests are powerful,
there the people are sure to be found abject in their minds and
squalid in their condition.
But Hope--Hope, the second in order of the Christian perfections, is
ever at hand to console us for the evils inflicted by Faith. We are
commanded to be firmly convinced that those who have faith, that is to
say, those who believe in priests, shall be amply rewarded in the
other world for their meritorious submission in this. Thus hope is
founded on faith, in the same manner as faith is established upon
hope; faith enjoins us to entertain a devout hope that our faith will
be rewarded. And what is it we are told to hope for? For unspeakable
benefits; that is, benefits for which language contains no expression.
So that, after all, we know not what it is we are to hope for. And how
can we feel a hope or even a wish for any object that is undefinable?
How can priests incessantly speak to us of things of which they, at
the same time, acknowledge it is impossible for us to form any ideas?
It thus appears that hope and faith have one common foundation; the
same blow which overturns the one necessarily levels the other with
the ground. But let us pause a moment, and endeavor to discover the
advantages of Christian hope amongst men. It encourages to the
practice of virtue; it supports the unfortunate under the stroke of
affliction; and consoles the believer in the hour of adversity. But
what encouragement, what support, what consolation can be imparted to
the mind from these undefined and undefinable shadows? No one, indeed,
will deny that hope is sufficiently useful to the priests, who never
fail to call in its assistance for the vindication of Providence,
whenever any of the elect have occasion to complain of the unmerited
hardship or the transient injustice of his dispensations. Besides,
these priests, notwithstanding their beautiful systems, find
themselves unable to fulfil the high-sounding promises they so
liberally make to all the faithful, and are frequently at a loss to
explain the evils which they bring upon their flocks by means of the
quarrels they engage in, and the false notions of religion they
entertain; on these occasions the priests have a standing appeal to
hope, telling their dupes that man was not created for this world,
that heaven is his home, and that his sufferings here will be
counterbalanced by indescribable bliss hereafter. Thus, like quacks,
whose nostrums have ruined the health of their patients, they have
still left to themselves the advantage of selling hopes to those whom
they know themselves unable to cure. Our priests resemble some of our
physicians, who begin by frightening us into our complaints, in order
that they may make us customers for the hopes which they afterwards
sell to us for their weight in gold. This traffic constitutes, in
reality, all that is called religion.
The third of the Christian virtues is Charity; that is, to love God
above all things, and our neighbors as ourselves. But before we are
required to love God above all things, it seems reasonable that
religion should condescend to represent him as worthy of our love. In
good faith, Madam, is it possible to feel that the God of the
Christians is entitled to our love? Is it possible to feel any other
sentiments than those of aversion towards a partial, capricious,
cruel, revengeful, jealous, and sanguinary tyrant? How can we
sincerely love the most terrible of beings,--the living God, into
whose hands it is dreadful to think of falling,--the God who can
consign to eternal damnation those very creatures who, without his own
consent, would never have existed? Are our theologians aware of what
they say, when they tell us that the fear of God is the fear of a
child for its parent, which is mingled with love? Are we not bound to
hate, can we by any means avoid detesting, a barbarous father, whose
injustice is so boundless as to punish the whole human race, though
innocent, in order to revenge himself upon two individuals for the sin
of the apple, which sin he himself might have prevented if he had
thought proper? In short, Madam, it is a physical impossibility to
love above all things a God whose whole conduct, as described in the
Bible, fills us with a freezing horror. If, therefore, the love of
God, as the Jansenists assert, is indispensable to salvation, we
cannot wonder to find that the elect are so few. Indeed, there are not
many persons who can restrain themselves from hating this God; and the
doctrine of the Jesuits is, that to abstain from hating him is
sufficient for salvation. The power of loving a God whom religion
paints as the most detestable of beings would, doubtless, be a proof
of the most supernatural grace, that is, a grace the most contrary to
nature; to love that which we do not know, is, assuredly, sufficiently
difficult; to love that which we fear, is still more difficult; but to
love that which is exhibited to us in the most repulsive colors, is
manifestly impossible.
We must, after all this, be thoroughly convinced that, except by means
of an invisible grace never communicated to the profane, no Christian
in his sober senses can love his God; even those devotees who pretend
to that happiness are apt to deceive themselves; their conduct
resembles that of hypocritical flatterers, who, in order to ingratiate
themselves with an odious tyrant, or to escape his resentment, make
every profession of attachment, whilst, at the bottom of their
hearts, they execrate him; or, on the other hand, they must be
condemned as enthusiasts, who, by means of a heated imagination,
become the dupes of their own illusions, and only view the favorable
side of a God declared to be the fountain of all good, yet,
nevertheless, constantly delineated to us with every feature of
wickedness. Devotees, when sincere, are like women given up to the
infatuation of a blind passion by which they are enamoured with lovers
rejected by the rest of the sex as unworthy of their affection. It was
said by Madame de Sevigne that she loved God as a perfectly well-bred
gentleman, with whom she had never been acquainted. But can the God of
the Christians be esteemed a well-bred gentleman? Unless her head was
turned, one would think that she must have been cured of her passion
by the slightest reference to her imaginary lover's portrait as drawn
in the Bible, or as it is spread upon the canvas of our theological
artists.
With regard to the love of our neighbor, where was the necessity of
religion to teach us our duty, which as men we cannot but feel, of
cherishing sentiments of good will towards each other? It is only by
showing in our conduct an affectionate disposition to others that we
can produce in them correspondent feelings towards ourselves. The
simple circumstance of being men is quite sufficient to give us a
claim upon the heart of every man who is susceptible of the sweet
sensibilities of our nature. Who is better acquainted than yourself,
Madam, with this truth? Does not your compassionate soul experience at
every moment the delightful satisfaction of solacing the unhappy?
Setting aside the superfluous precepts of religion, think you that you
could by any efforts steel your heart against the tears of the
unfortunate? Is it not by rendering our fellow-creatures happy that we
establish an empire in their hearts? Enjoy, then, Madam, this
delightful sovereignty; continue to bless with your beneficence all
that surround you; the consciousness of being the dispenser of so much
good will always sustain your mind with the most gratifying
self-applause; those who have received your kindness will reward you
with their blessings, and afford you the tribute of affection which
mankind are ever eager to lay at the feet of their benefactors.
Christianity, not satisfied with recommending the love of our
neighbor, superadds the injunction of loving our enemies. This
precept, attributed to the Son of God himself, forms the ground on
which our divines claim for their religion a superiority of moral
doctrine over all that the philosophers of antiquity were known to
teach. Let us, therefore, examine how far this precept admits of being
reduced to practice. True, an elevated mind may easily place itself
above a sense of injuries; a noble spirit retains no resentful
recollections; a great soul revenges itself by a generous clemency;
but it is an absurd contradiction to require that a man shall
entertain feelings of tenderness and regard for those whom he knows
to be bent on his destruction; this love of our enemies, which
Christianity is so vain of having promulgated, turns out, then, to be
an impracticable commandment, belied and denied by every Christian at
every moment of his life. How preposterous to talk of loving that
which annoys us!--of cherishing an attachment for that which gives us
pain!--of receiving an outrage with joy!--of loving those who subject
us to misery and suffering! No; in the midst of these trials our
firmness may perhaps be strengthened by the hope of a reward
hereafter; but it is a mere fallacy to talk of our entertaining a
sincere love for those whom we deem the authors of our afflictions;
the least that we can do is to avoid them, which will not be looked
upon as a very strong indication of our love.
Notwithstanding the solemn formality with which the Christian religion
obtrudes upon us these vaunted precepts of love of our neighbor, love
of our enemies, and forgiveness of injuries, it cannot escape the
observation of the weakest among us, that those very men who are the
loudest in praising are also the first and most constant in violating
them. Our priests especially seem to consider themselves exempt from
the troublesome necessity of adopting for their own conduct a too
literal interpretation of this divine law. They have invented a most
convenient salvo, since they affect to exclude all those who do not
profess to think as they dictate, not only from the kindness of
neighbors, but even from the rights of fellow-creatures. On this
principle they defame, persecute, and destroy every one who displeases
them. When do you see a priest forgive? When revenge is out of his
reach! But it is never their own injuries they punish; it is never
their own enemies they seek to exterminate. Their disinterested
indignation burns with resentment against the enemies of the Most
High, who, without their assistance, would be incapable of adjusting
his own quarrels! By an unaccountable coincidence, however, it is sure
to happen that the enemies of the church are the enemies of the Most
High, who never fails to make common cause with the ministers of the
faith, and who would take it extremely ill if his ministers should
relax in the measure of punishment due to their common enemy. Thus our
priests are cruel and revengeful from pure zeal; they would ardently
wish to forgive their own enemies, but how could they justify
themselves to the God of Mercies if they extended the least indulgence
to his enemies?
A true Christian loves the Creator above all things, and consequently
he must love him in preference to the creature. We feel a lively
interest in every thing that concerns the object of our love; from all
which, it follows that we must evince our zeal, and even, when
necessary, we must not hesitate to exterminate our neighbor, if he
says or does what is displeasing or injurious to God. In such a case,
indifference would be criminal; a sincere love of God breaks out into
a holy ardor in his cause, and our merit rises in proportion to our
violence.
These notions, absurd as they are, have been sufficient in every age
to produce in the world a multitude of crimes, extravagances, and
follies, the legitimate offspring of a religious zeal. Infatuated
fanatics, exasperated by priests against each other, have been driven
into mutual hatred, persecution, and destruction; they have thought
themselves called upon to avenge the Almighty; they have carried their
insane delusions so far as to persuade themselves that the God of
clemency and goodness could look on with pleasure while they murdered
their brethren; in the astonishing blindness of their stupidity, they
have imagined that in defending the temporalities of the church, they
were defending God himself. In pursuance of these errors, contradicted
even by the description which they themselves give us of the Divinity,
the priests of every age have found means to introduce confusion into
the peaceful habitations of men, and to destroy all who dared to
resist their tyranny. Under the laughable idea of revenging the
all-powerful Creator, these priests have discovered the secret of
revenging themselves, and that, too, without drawing down upon
themselves the hatred and execration so justly due to their vindictive
fury and unfeeling selfishness. In the name of the God of nature, they
stifled the voice of nature in the breasts of men; in the name of the
God of goodness, they incited men to the fury of wild beasts; in the
name of the God of mercies, they prohibited all forgiveness!
It is thus, Madam, that the earth has never ceased to groan with the
ravages committed by maniacs under the influence of that zeal which
springs from the Christian doctrine of the love of God. The God of the
Christians, like the Janus of Roman mythology, has two faces;
sometimes he is represented with the benign features of mercy and
goodness; sometimes murder, revenge, and fury issue from his nostrils.
And what is the consequence of this double aspect but that the
Christians are much more easily terrified at his frightful lineaments
than they are recovered from their fears by his aspect of mercy!
Having been taught to view him as a capricious being, they are
naturally mistrustful of him, and imagine that the safest part they
can act for themselves is to set about the work of vengeance with
great zeal; they conclude that a cruel master cannot find fault with
cruel imitators, and that his servants cannot render themselves more
acceptable than by extirpating all his enemies.
The preceding remarks show very clearly, Madam, the highly pernicious
consequences which result from the zeal engendered by the love of God.
If this love is a virtue, its benefits are confined to the priests,
who arrogate to themselves the exclusive privilege of declaring when
God is offended; who absorb all the offerings and monopolize all the
homage of the devout; who decide upon the opinions that please or
displease him; who undertake to inform mankind of the duties this
virtue requires from them, and of the proper time and manner of
performing them; who are interested in rendering those duties cruel
and intimidating in order to frighten mankind into a profitable
subjection; who convert it into the instrument of gratifying their own
malignant passions, by inspiring men with a spirit of headlong and
raging intolerance, which, in its furious course of indiscriminate
destruction, holds nothing sacred, and which has inflicted incredible
ravages upon all Christian countries.
In conformity with such abominable principles, a Christian is bound to
detest and destroy all whom the church may point out as the enemies of
God. Having admitted the paramount duty of yielding their entire
affections to a rigorous master, quick to resent, and offended even
with the involuntary thoughts and opinions of his creatures, they of
course feel themselves bound, by entering with zeal into his quarrels,
to obtain for him a vengeance worthy of a God--that is to say, a
vengeance that knows no bounds. A conduct like this is the natural
offspring of those revolting ideas which our priests give us of the
Deity. A good Christian is therefore necessarily intolerant. It is
true that Christianity in the pulpit preaches nothing but mildness,
meekness, toleration, peace, and concord; but Christianity in the
world is a stranger to all these virtues; nor does she ever exercise
them except when she is deficient in the necessary power to give
effect to her destructive zeal. The real truth of the matter is, that
Christians think themselves absolved from every tie of humanity except
with those who think as they do, who profess to believe the same
creed; they have a repugnance, more or less decided, against all those
who disagree with their priests in theological speculation. How common
it is to see persons of the mildest character and most benevolent
disposition regard with aversion the adherents of a different sect
from their own! The reigning religion--that is, the religion of the
sovereign, or of the priests in whose favor the sovereign declares
himself--crushes all rival sects, or, at least, makes them fully
sensible of its superiority and its hatred, in a manner extremely
insulting, and calculated to raise their indignation. By these means
it frequently happens that the deference of the prince to the wishes
of the priests has the effect of alienating the hearts of his most
faithful subjects, and brings him that execration which ought in
justice to be heaped exclusively upon his sanctimonious instigators.
In short, Madam, the private rights of conscience are nowhere
sincerely respected; the leaders of the various religious sects begin,
in the very cradle, to teach all Christians to hate and despise each
other about some theological point which nobody can understand. The
clergy, when vested with power, never preach toleration; on the
contrary, they consider every man as an enemy who is a friend to
religious freedom, accusing him of lukewarmness, infidelity, and
secret hostility; in short, he is denominated a false brother. The
Sorbonne declared, in the sixteenth century, that it was heretical to
say that heretics ought not to be burned. The ferocious St. Austin
preached toleration at one period, but it was before he was duly
initiated in the mysteries of the sacerdotal policy, which is ever
repugnant to toleration. Persecution is necessary to our priests, to
deter mankind from opposing themselves to their avarice, their
ambition, their vanity, and their obstinacy. The sole principle which
holds the church together is that of a sleepless watchfulness on the
part of all its members to extend its power, to increase the multitude
of its slaves, to fix odium on all who hesitate to bend their necks to
its yoke, or who refuse their assent to its arbitrary decisions.
Our divines have, therefore, you see, very good reasons for raising
humility into the rank of virtue. An amiable modesty, a diffident
mildness of demeanor, are unquestionably calculated to promote the
pleasures and the advantages of society; it is equally certain that
insolence and arrogance are disgusting, that they wound our self-love
and excite our aversion by their repulsive conduct; but that amiable
modesty which charms all who come within its influence is a far
different quality from that which is designated humility in the
vocabulary of Christians. A truly humble Christian despises his own
unworthiness, avoids the esteem of others, mistrusts his own
understanding, submits with docility to the unerring guidance of his
spiritual masters, and piously resigns to his priest the clearest and
most irrefutable conclusions of reason.
But to what advantage can this pretended virtue lead its followers?
How can a man of sense and integrity despise himself? Is not public
opinion the guardian of private virtue? If you deprive men of the love
of glory, and the desire of deserving the approbation of their
fellow-citizens, are you not divesting them of the noblest and most
powerful incitements by which they can be impelled to benefit their
country? What recompense will remain to the benefactors of mankind,
if, first of all, we are unjust enough to refuse them the praise they
merit, and afterwards debar them from the satisfaction of
self-applause, and the happiness they would feel in the consciousness
of having done good to an ungrateful world? What infatuation, what
amazing infatuation, to require a man of upright character, of
talents, intelligence, and learning, to think himself on a level with
a selfish priest, or a stupid fanatic, who deal out their absurd
fables and incoherent dreams!