Religion, which claims to be the firmest support of morality, evidently
deprives it of its true motor, to substitute imaginary motors,
inconceivable chimeras, which, being obviously contrary to common sense,
can not be firmly believed by any one. Everybody assures us that he
believes firmly in a God who rewards and punishes; everybody claims to
be persuaded of the existence of a hell and of a Paradise; however, do
we see that these ideas render men better or counterbalance in the minds
of the greatest number of them the slightest interest? Each one assures
us that he is afraid of God's judgments, although each one gives vent to
his passions when he believes himself sure of escaping the judgments of
men. The fear of invisible powers is rarely as great as the fear of
visible powers. Unknown or distant sufferings make less impression upon
people than the erected gallows, or the example of a hanged man. There
is scarcely any courtier who fears God's anger more than the displeasure
of his master. A pension, a title, a ribbon, are sufficient to make one
forget the torments of hell and the pleasures of the celestial court. A
woman's caresses expose him every day to the displeasure of the Most
High. A joke, a banter, a bon-mot, make more impression upon the man of
the world than all the grave notions of his religion. Are we not assured
that a true repentance is sufficient to appease Divinity? However, we do
not see that this true repentance is sincerely expressed; at least, we
very rarely see great thieves, even in the hour of death, restore the
goods which they know they have unjustly acquired. Men persuade
themselves, no doubt, that they will submit to the eternal fire, if they
can not guarantee themselves against it. But as settlements can be made
with Heaven by giving the Church a portion of their fortunes, there are
very few religious thieves who do not die perfectly quieted about the
manner in which they gained their riches in this world.