sometimes think of ancient prejudices reclaiming the rights they have
for a long time exercised over your reason; attribute, then, these
vacillations to some derangement in your frame--to some disordered
movements of mind, which, for a time, suspend your reason. Think that
there are few people who are constantly the same, and who see with the
same eyes. Our frame being subject to continual variations, it
necessarily follows that our modes of thinking will vary. We think one
custom the result of pusillanimity, when the nerves are relaxed and
our bodies fatigued. We think justly when our body is in health; that
is to say, when all its parts are fulfilling their various functions.
There is one mode of thinking, or one state of mind, which in health
we call uncertainty, and which we rarely experience when our frame is
in its ordinary condition. We do not then reason justly, when our
frame is not in a condition to leave our mind subject to incredulity.
What, then, is to be done, when we would calm our mind, when we wish
to reflect, even for an instant? Let reason be our guide, and we shall
soon arrive at that mode of thinking which shall be advantageous to
ourselves. In effect, Madam, how can a God who is just, good, and
reasonable, be irritated by the manner in which we shall think, seeing
that our thoughts are always involuntary, and that we cannot believe
as we would, but as our convictions increase, or become weakened? Man
is not, then, for one instant, the master of his ideas, which are
every moment excited by objects over which he has no control, and
causes which depend not on his will or exertions. St. Augustine
himself bears testimony to this truth: "There is not," says he, "one
man who is at all times master of that which presents itself to his
spirit." Have we not, then, good reason to conclude, that our thoughts
are entirely indifferent to God, seeing they are excited by objects
over which we have no control, and, by consequence, that they cannot
be offensive to the Deity?
If our teachers pique themselves on their principles, they ought to
carry along with them this truth, that a just God cannot be offended
by the changes which take place in the minds of his creatures. They
ought to know that this God, if he is wise, has no occasion to be
troubled with the ideas that enter the mind of man; that if they do
not comprehend all his perfections, it is because their comprehension
is limited. They ought to recollect, that if God is all-powerful, his
glory and his power cannot be affected by the opinions and ideas of
weak mortals, any more than the notions they form of him can alter his
essential attributes. In fine, if our teachers had not made it a duty
to renounce common sense, and to close with notions that carry in
their consequences the contradictory evidence of their premises, they
would not refuse to avow that God would be the most unjust, the most
unreasonable, the most cruel of tyrants, if he should punish beings
whom he himself created imperfect, and possessed of a deficiency of
reason and common sense.
Let us reflect a little longer, and we shall find that the theologians
have studied to make of the Divinity a ferocious master, unreasonable
and changing, who exacts from his creatures qualities they have not,
and services they cannot perform. The ideas they have formed of this
unknown being are almost always borrowed from those of men of power,
who, jealous of their power and respect from their subjects, pretend
that it is the duty of these last to have for them sentiments of
submission, and punish with rigor those who, by their conduct or their
discourse, announce sentiments not sufficiently respectful to their
superiors. Thus you see, Madam, that God has been fashioned by the
clergy on the model of an uneasy despot, suspicious of his subjects,
jealous of the opinions they may entertain of him, and who, to secure
his power, cruelly chastises those who have not littleness of mind
sufficient to flatter his vanity, nor courage enough to resist his
power.
It is evident, that it is on ideas so ridiculous, and so contrary to
those which nature offers us of the Divinity, that the absurd system
of the priests is founded, which they persuade themselves is very
sensible and agreeable to the opinions of mankind; and which is very
seriously insulted, they say, if men think differently; and which will
punish with severity those who abandon themselves to the guidance of
reason, the glory of man. Nothing can be more pernicious to the human
kind than this fatal madness, which deranges all our ideas of a just
God--of a God, good, wise, all-powerful, and whose glory and power
neither the devotion nor rebellion of his creatures can affect. In
consequence of these impertinent suppositions of the priesthood, men
have ever been afraid to form notions agreeable to the mysterious
Sovereign of the universe, on whom they are dependent; their mind is
put to the torture to divine his incomprehensible nature, and, in
their fear of displeasing him, they have assigned to him human
attributes, without perceiving that when they pretend to honor him,
they dishonor Deity, and that being compelled to bestow on him
qualities that are incompatible with Deity, they actually annihilate
from their mind the pure representation of Deity, as witnessed in all
nature. It is thus, that in almost all the religions on the face of
the earth, under the pretext of making known the Divinity, and
explaining his views towards mortals, the priests have rendered him
incomprehensible, and have actually promulgated, under the garb of
religion, nothing save absurdities, by which, if we admit them, we
shall destroy those notions which nature gives us of Deity.
When we reflect on the Divinity, do we not see that mankind have
plunged farther and farther into darkness, as they assimilated him to
themselves; that their judgment is always disturbed when they would
make their Deity the object of their meditations; that they cannot
reason justly, because they never have any but obscure and absurd
ideas; that they are almost always in uncertainty, and never agree
with themselves, because their principles are replete with doubt; that
they always tremble, because they imagine that it is very dangerous to
be deceived; that they dispute without ceasing, because that it is
impossible to be convinced of any thing, when they reason on objects
of which they know nothing, and which the imaginations of men are
forced to paint differently; in fine, that they cruelly torment one
another about opinions equally uninteresting, though they attach to
them the greatest importance, and because the vanity of the one party
never allows it to subscribe to the reveries of the other?
It is thus that the Divinity has become to us a source of evil,
division, and quarrels; it is thus that his name alone inspires
terror; it is thus that religion has become the signal of so many
combats, and has always been the true apple of discord among unquiet
mortals, who always dispute with the greatest heat, on subjects of
which they can never have any true ideas. They make it a duty to think
and reason on his attributes; and they can never arrive at any just
conclusions, because their mind is never in a condition to form true
notions of what strikes their senses. In the impossibility of knowing
the Deity by themselves, they have recourse to the opinion of others,
whom they consider more adroit in theology, and who pretend to an
intimate acquaintance with God, being inspired by him, and having
secret intelligence of his purposes with regard to the human kind.
Those privileged men teach nothing to the nations of the earth, except
what their reveries have reduced to a system, without giving them
ideas that are clear and definite. They paint God under characters the
most agreeable to their own interests; they make of him a good monarch
for those who blindly submit to their tenets, but terrible to those
who refuse to blindly follow them.
Thus you perceive, Madam, what those men are who have obviously made
of the Deity an object so bizarre as they announce him, and who, to
render their opinions the more sacred, have pretended that he is
grievously offended when we do not admit implicitly the ideas they
promulgate of God. In the books of Moses God defines himself, _I am
that I am_; yet does this inspired writer detail the history of this
God as a tyrant who tempts men, and who punishes them for being
tempted; who exterminated all the human kind by a deluge, except a few
of one family, because one man had fallen; in a word, who, in all his
conduct, behaves as a despot, whose power dispenses with all the rules
of justice, reason, and goodness.
Have the successors of Moses transmitted to us ideas more clear, more
sensible, more comprehensible of the Divinity? Has the Son of God made
his Father perfectly known to us? Has the church, perpetually boasting
of the light she diffuses among men, become more fixed and certain,
to do away our uncertainty? Alas! in spite of all these supernatural
succors, we know nothing in nature beyond the grave; the ideas which
are communicated to us, the recitals of our infallible teachers, are
calculated only to confound our judgment, and reduce our reason to
silence. They make of God a pure spirit; that is to say, a being who
has nothing in common with matter, and who, nevertheless, has created
matter, which he has produced from his own fiat--his essence or
substance. They have made him the mirror of the universe, and the soul
of the universe. They have made him an infinite being, who fills all
space by his immensity, although the material world occupies some part
in space. They have made him a being all powerful, but whose projects
are incessantly varying, who neither can nor will maintain man in good
order, nor permit the freedom of action necessary for rational beings,
and who is alternately pleased and displeased with the same beings and
their actions. They make him an infinite good Father, but who avenges
himself without measure. They make of him a monarch infinitely just,
but who confounds the innocent with the guilty, who has mingled
injustice and cruelty, in causing his own Son to be put to death to
expiate the crimes of the human kind; though they are incessantly
sinning and repenting for pardon. They make of him a being full of
wisdom and foresight, yet insensible to the folly and shortsightedness
of mortals. They make him a reasonable being who becomes angry at the
thoughts of his creatures, though involuntary, and consequently
necessary; thoughts which he himself puts into their heads; and who
condemns them to eternal punishments if they believe not in reveries
that are incompatible with the divine attributes, or who dare to doubt
whether God can possess qualities that are not capable of being
reconciled among themselves.
Is it, then, surprising that so many good people are shocked at the
revolting ideas, so contradictory and so appalling, which hurl mortals
into a state of uncertainty and doubt as to the existence of the
Deity, or even to force them into absolute denial of the same? It is
impossible to admit, in effect, the doctrine of the Deity of
priestcraft, in which we constantly see infinite perfections, allied
with imperfections the most striking; in which, when we reflect but
momentarily, we shall find that it cannot produce but disorder in the
imagination, and leaves it wandering among errors that reduce it to
despair, or some impostors, who, to subjugate mankind, have wished to
throw them into embarrassment, confound their reason, and fill them
with terror. Such appear, in effect, to be the motives of those who
have the arrogance to pretend to a secret knowledge, which they
distribute among mankind, though they have no knowledge even of
themselves. They always paint God under the traits of an inaccessible
tyrant, who never shows himself but to his ministers and favorites,
who please to veil him from the eyes of the vulgar; and who are
violently irritated when they find any who oppose their pretensions,
or when they refuse to believe the priests and their unintelligible
farragoes.
If, as I have often said, it be impossible to believe what we cannot
comprehend, or to be intimately convinced of that of which we can form
no distinct and clear ideas, we may thence conclude that, when the
Christians assure us they believe that God has announced himself in
some secret and peculiar way to them that he has not done to other
men, either they are themselves deceived, or they wish to deceive us.
Their faith, or their belief in God, is merely an acceptance of what
their priests have taught them of a Being whose existence they have
rendered more than doubtful to those who would reason and meditate.
The Deity cannot, assuredly, be the being whom the Christians admit on
the word of their theologians. Is there, in good truth, a man in the
world who can form any idea of a spirit? If we ask the priests what a
spirit is, they will tell us that a spirit is an immaterial being who
has none of the passions of which men are the subjects. But what is an
immaterial spirit? It is a being that has none of the qualities which
we can fathom; that has neither form, nor extension, nor color.
But how can we be assured of the existence of a being who has none of
these qualities? It is by _faith_, say the priests, that we must be
assured of his existence. But what is this _faith_? It is to adhere,
without examination, to what the priests tell us. But what is it the
priests tell us of God? They tell us of things which we can neither
comprehend nor they reconcile among themselves. The existence, even of
God, has, in their hands, become the most impenetrable mystery in
religion. But do the priests themselves comprehend this ineffable God,
whom they announce to other men? Have they just ideas of him? Are they
themselves sincerely convinced of the existence of a being who unites
incompatible qualities which reciprocally exclude the one or the
other? We cannot admit it; and we are authorized to conclude, that
when the priests profess to believe in God, either they know not what
they say, or they wish to deceive us.
Do not then be surprised, Madam, if you should find that there are, in
fact, people who have ventured to doubt of the existence of the Deity
of the theologians, because, on meditating on the descriptions given
of him, they have discovered them to be incomprehensible, or replete
with contradiction. Do not be astonished if they never listen, in
reasoning, to any arguments that oppose themselves to common sense,
and seek, for the existence of the priests' Deity, other proofs than
have yet been offered mankind. His existence cannot be demonstrated in
revelations, which we discover, on examination, to be the work of
imposture; revelations sap the foundations laid down for belief in a
Divinity, which they would wish to establish. This existence cannot
be founded on the qualities which our priests have assigned to the
Divinity, seeing that, in the association of these qualities, there
only results a God whom we cannot comprehend, and by consequence of
whom we can form no certain ideas. This existence cannot be founded on
the moral qualities which our priests attribute to the Divinity,
seeing these are irreconcilable in the same subject, who cannot be at
once good and evil, just and unjust, merciful and implacable, wise and
the enemy of human reason.
On what, then, ought we to found the existence of God? The priests
themselves tell us that it is on reason, the spectacle of nature, and
on the marvellous order which appears in the universe. Those to whom
these motives for believing in the existence of the Divinity do not
appear convincing, find not, in any of the religions in the world,
motives more persuasive; for all systems of theology, framed for the
exercise of the imagination, plunge us into more uncertainty
respecting their evidence, when they appeal to nature for proofs of
what they advance.
What, then, are we to think of the God of the clergy? Can we think
that he exists, without reasoning on that existence? And what shall we
think of those who are ignorant of this God, or have no belief in his
existence; who cannot discover him in the works of nature, either as
good or evil; who behold only order and disorder succeeding
alternately? What idea shall we form of those men who regard matter as
eternal, as actuated on by laws, peculiar to itself; as sufficiently
powerful to produce itself under all the forms we behold; as
perpetually exerting itself in nourishing and destroying itself, in
combining and dissolving itself; as incapable of love or of hatred; as
deprived of the faculties of _intelligence_ and _sentiment_ known to
belong to beings of our species, but capable of supporting those
beings whose organization has made them intelligent, sensible, and
reasonable?
What shall we say of those Freethinkers who find neither good nor
evil, neither order nor disorder, in the universe; that all things are
but relative to different conditions of beings, of which they have
evidence; and that all that happens in the universe is necessary, and
subjected to destiny? In a word, what shall we think of these men?
Shall we say that they have only a different manner of viewing things,
or that they use different words in expressing themselves? They call
that _Nature_ which others call the _Divinity_; they call that
_Necessity_ which all others call the _Divine decrees_; they call that
the _Energy_ of _Nature_ which others call the _Author_ of _Nature_;
they call that _Destiny_, or _Fate_, which others call _God_, whose
laws are always going forward.
Have we, then, any right to hate and to exterminate them? No, without
doubt; at least, we cannot admit that we have any reason that those
should perish, who speak only the same language with ourselves, and
who are reciprocally beneficial to us. Nevertheless, it is to this
degree of extravagance that the baneful ideas of religion have
carried the human mind. Harassed, and set on by their priests, men
have hated and assassinated each other, because that in religious
matters they agree not to one creed. Vanity has made some imagine
that they are better than others, more intelligible, although they
see that theology is a language which they neither understand, nor
which they themselves could invent. The very name of Freethinker
suffices to irritate them, and to arm the fury of others, who repeat,
without ceasing, the name of God, without having any precise idea of
the Deity. If, by chance, they imagine that they have any notions of
him, they are only confused, contradictory, incompatible, and
senseless notions, which have been inspired in their infancy by their
priests, and those who, as we have seen, have painted God in all
those traits which their imagination furnished, or those who appear
more conformed to their passions and interests than to the well-being
of their fellow-creatures.
The least reflection will, nevertheless, suffice to make any one
perceive, that God, if he is just and good, cannot exist as a being
known to some, but unknown to others. If Freethinkers are men void of
reason, God would be unjust to punish them for being blind and
insensible, or for having too little penetration and understanding to
perceive the force of those natural proofs on which the existence of
the Deity has been founded. A God full of equity cannot punish men
for having been blind or devoid of reason. The Freethinkers, as
foolish as they are supposed, are beings less insensible than those
who make professions of believing in a God full of qualities that
destroy one another; they are less dangerous than the adorers of a
changeable Deity, who, they imagine, is pleased with the extermination
of a large portion of mankind, on account of their opinions. Our
speculations are indifferent to God, whose glory man cannot
tarnish--whose power mortals cannot abridge. They may, however, be
advantageous to ourselves; they may be perfectly indifferent to
society, whose happiness they may not affect; or they may be the
reverse of all this. For it is evident that the opinions of men do not
influence the happiness of society.
Hence, Madam, let us leave men to think as they please, provided that
they act in such a manner as promotes the general good of society. The
thoughts of men injure not others; their actions may--their reveries
never. Our ideas, our thoughts, our systems, depend not on us. He who
is fully convinced on one point, is not satisfied on another. All men
have not the same eyes, nor the same brains; all have not the same
ideas, the same education, or the same opinions; they never agree
wholly, when they have the temerity to reason on matters that are
enveloped in the obscurity of imaginative fiction, and which cannot be
subject to the usual evidence accompanying matters of report, or
historic relation.
Men do not long dispute on objects that are cognizable to their
senses, and which they can submit to the test of experience. The
number of self-evident truths on which men agree is very small; and
the fundamentals of morality are among this number. It is obvious to
all men of sense, that beings, united in society, require to be
regulated by justice, that they ought to respect the happiness of each
other, that mutual succor is indispensable; in a word, that they are
obliged to practise virtue, and to be useful to society, for personal
happiness. It is evident to demonstration, that the interest of our
preservation excites us to moderate our desires, and put a bridle on
our passions; to renounce dangerous habits, and to abstain from vices
which can only injure our fortune, and undermine our health. These
truths are evident to every being whose passions have not dominion
over his reason; they are totally independent of theological
speculations, which have neither evidence nor demonstration, and which
our mind can never verify; they have nothing in common with the
religious opinions on which the imagination soars from earth to sky,
nor with the fanaticism and credulity which are so frequently
producing among mankind the most opposite principles to morality and
the well-being of society.
They who are of the Freethinkers' opinions are not more dangerous than
they who are of the priests' opinions. In short, Christianity has
produced effects more appalling than heathenism. The speculative
principles of the Freethinkers have done no injury to society; the
contagious principles of fanaticism and enthusiasm have only served to
spread disorder on the earth. If there are dangerous notions and fatal
speculations in the world, they are those of the devotees, who obey a
religion that divides men, and excites their passions, and who
sacrifice the interests of society, of sovereigns, and their subjects,
to their own ambition, their avarice, their vengeance and fury.
There is no question that the Freethinker has motives to be good, even
though he admit not notions that bridle his passions. It is true that
the Freethinker has no invisible motives, but he has motives, and a
visible restraint, which, if he reflects, cannot fail to regulate his
actions. If he doubts about religion, he does not question the laws of
moral obligation; nor that it is his duty to moderate his passions, to
labor for his happiness and that of others, to avoid hatred, disdain,
and discord as crimes; and that he should shun vices which may injure
his constitution, reputation, and fortune. Thus, relatively to his
morality, the Freethinker has principles more sure than those of
superstition and fanaticism. In fine, if nothing can restrain the
Freethinker, a thousand forces united would not prevent the fanatic
from the commission of crimes, and the violation of duties the most
sacred.