We may be asked if atheism can suit the multitude? I reply, that every
system which demands discussion is not for the multitude. What use is
there, then, in preaching atheism? It can at least make those who
reason, feel that nothing is more extravagant than to make ourselves
uneasy, and nothing more unjust than to cause anxiety to others on
account of conjectures, destitute of all foundation. As to the common
man, who never reasons, the arguments of an atheist are no better suited
to him than a philosopher's hypothesis, an astronomer's observations, a
chemist's experiments, a geometer's calculations, a physician's
examinations, an architect's designs, or a lawyer's pleadings, who all
labor for the people without their knowledge.
The metaphysical arguments of theology, and the religious disputes which
have occupied for so long many profound visionists, are they made any
more for the common man than the arguments of an atheist? More than
this, the principles of atheism, founded upon common sense, are they not
more intelligible than those of a theology which we see bristling with
insolvable difficulties, even for the most active minds? The people in
every country have a religion which they do not understand, which they
do not examine, and which they follow but by routine; their priests
alone occupy themselves with the theology which is too sublime for them.
If, by accident, the people should lose this unknown theology, they
could console them selves for the loss of a thing which is not only
entirely useless, but which produces among them very dangerous
ebullitions.
It would be very foolish to write for the common man or to attempt to
cure his prejudices all at once. We write but for those who read and
reason; the people read but little, and reason less. Sensible and
peaceable people enlighten themselves; their light spreads itself
gradually, and in time reaches the people. On the other hand, those who
deceive men, do they not often take the trouble themselves of
undeceiving them?