The universe is always in order. It cannot be in disorder. It is our

machine, that suffers, when we complain of disorder. The bodies, causes,

and beings, which this world contains, necessarily act in the manner in

which we see them act, whether we approve or disapprove of their effects.

Earthquakes, volcanoes, inundations, pestilences, and famines are effects

as necessary, or as much in the order of nature, as the fall of heavy

bodies, the courses of rivers, the periodical motions of the seas, the

blowing of the winds, the fruitful rains, and the favourable effects, for

which men praise God, and thank him for his goodness.

To be astonished that a certain order reigns in the world, is to be

surprised that the same causes constantly produce the same effects. To

be shocked at disorder, is to forget, that when things change, or are

interrupted in their actions, the effects can no longer be the same. To

wonder at the order of nature, is to wonder that any thing can exist; it

is to be surprised at any one's own existence. What is order to one being,

is disorder to another. All wicked beings find that every thing is in

order, when they can with impunity put every thing in disorder. They find,

on the contrary, that every thing is in disorder, when they are disturbed

in the exercise of their wickedness.

45.

Upon supposition that God is the author and mover of nature, there could

be no disorder with respect to him. Would not all the causes, that he

should have made, necessarily act according to the properties, essences,

and impulses given them? If God should change the ordinary course of

nature, he would not be immutable. If the order of the universe, in

which man thinks he sees the most convincing proof of the existence,

intelligence, power and goodness of God, should happen to contradict

itself, one might suspect his existence, or, at least, accuse him of

inconstancy, impotence, want of foresight and wisdom in the arrangement of

things; one would have a right to accuse him of an oversight in the choice

of the agents and instruments, which he makes, prepares, and puts in

action. In short, if the order of nature proves the power and intelligence

of the Deity, disorder must prove his weakness, instability, and

irrationality.

You say, that God is omnipresent, that he fills the universe with his

immensity, that nothing is done without him, that matter could not act

without his agency. But in this case, you admit, that your God is the

author of disorder, that it is he who deranges nature, that he is the

father of confusion, that he is in man, and moves him at the moment he

sins. If God is every where, he is in me, he acts with me, he is deceived

with me, he offends God with me, and combats with me the existence of God!

O theologians! you never understand yourselves, when you speak of God.

46.

In order to have what we call intelligence, it is necessary to have ideas,

thoughts, and wishes; to have ideas, thoughts, and wishes, it is necessary

to have organs; to have organs, it is necessary to have a body; to act

upon bodies, it is necessary to have a body; to experience disorder, it is

necessary to be capable of suffering. Whence it evidently follows, that a

pure spirit can neither be intelligent, nor affected by what passes in the

universe.

Divine intelligence, ideas, and views, have, you say, nothing common with

those of men. Very well. How then can men judge, right or wrong, of these

views; reason upon these ideas; or admire this intelligence? This would be

to judge, admire, and adore that, of which we can have no ideas. To adore

the profound views of divine wisdom, is it not to adore that, of which we

cannot possibly judge? To admire these views, is it not to admire without

knowing why? Admiration is always the daughter of ignorance. Men admire

and adore only what they do not comprehend.

47.

All those qualities, ascribed to God, are totally incompatible with a

being, who, by his very essence, is void of all analogy with human beings.

It is true, the divines imagine they extricate themselves from this

difficulty, by exaggerating the human qualities, attributed to the

Divinity; they enlarge them to infinity, where they cease to understand

themselves. What results from this combination of man with God? A mere

chimera, of which, if any thing be affirmed, the phantom, combined with so

much pains, instantly vanishes.

Dante, in his poem upon _Paradise_, relates, that the Deity appeared

to him under the figure of three circles, forming an iris, whose lively

colours generated each other; but that, looking steadily upon the dazzling

light, he saw only his own figure. While adoring God, it is himself, that

man adores.

48.

Ought not the least reflection suffice to prove, that God can have none

of the human qualities, all ties, virtues, or perfections? Our virtues and

perfections are consequences of the modifications of our passions. But

has God passions as we have? Again: our good qualities consist in our

dispositions towards the beings with whom we live in society. God,

according to you, is an insulated being. God has no equals--no

fellow-beings. God does not live in society. He wants the assistance of no

one. He enjoys an unchangeable felicity. Admit then, according to your own

principles, that God cannot have what we call virtues, and that man cannot

be virtuous with respect to him.

49.

Man, wrapped up in his own merit, imagines the human race to be the sole

object of God in creating the universe. Upon what does he found this

flattering opinion? We are told: that man is the only being endued with

intelligence, which enables him to know the Deity, and to render him

homage. We are assured, that God made the world only for his own glory,

and that it was necessary that the human species should come into this

plan, that there might be some one to admire his works, and glorify him

for them. But, according to these suppositions, has not God evidently

missed his object? 1st. Man, according to yourselves, will always labour

under the completest impossibility of knowing his God, and the most

invincible ignorance of his divine essence. 2ndly. A being, who has no

equal, cannot be susceptible of glory; for glory can result only from the

comparison of one's own excellence with that of others. 3rdly. If God be

infinitely happy, if he be self-sufficient, what need has he of the homage

of his feeble creatures? 4thly. God, notwithstanding all his endeavours,

is not glorified; but, on the contrary, all the religions in the world

represent him as perpetually offended; their sole object is to reconcile

sinful, ungrateful, rebellious man with his angry God.

50.

If God be infinite, he has much less relation with man, than man with

ants. Would the ants reason pertinently concerning the intentions,

desires, and projects of the gardener? Could they justly imagine, that a

park was planted for them alone, by an ostentatious monarch, and that the

sole object of his goodness was to furnish them with a superb residence?

But, according to theology, man is, with respect to God, far below what

the vilest insect is to man. Thus, by theology itself, which is wholly

devoted to the attributes and views of the Divinity, theology appears a

complete folly.

51.

We are told, that, in the formation of the universe, God's only object was

the happiness of man. But, in a world made purposely for him, and governed

by an omnipotent God, is man in reality very happy? Are his enjoyments

durable? Are not his pleasures mixed with pains? Are many persons

satisfied with their fate? Is not man continually the victim of physical

and moral evils? Is not the human machine, which is represented as a

master-piece of the Creator's skill, liable to derangement in a thousand

ways? Should we be surprised at the workmanship of a mechanic, who should

shew us a complex machine, ready to stop every moment, and which, in a

short time, would break in pieces of itself?

52.

The generous care, displayed by the Deity in providing for the wants,

and watching over the happiness of his beloved creatures, is called

_Providence_. But, when we open our eyes, we find that God provides

nothing. Providence sleeps over the greater part of the inhabitants of

this world. For a very small number of men who are supposed to be happy,

what an immense multitude groan under oppression, and languish in misery!

Are not nations forced to deprive themselves of bread, to administer to

the extravagances of a few gloomy tyrants, who are no happier than their

oppressed slaves?

At the same time that our divines emphatically expatiate upon the goodness

of Providence, while they exhort us to repose our confidence in her, do

we not hear them, at the sight of unforeseen catastrophes, exclaim, that

_Providence sports with the vain projects of man_, that she frustrates

their designs, that she laughs at their efforts, that profound wisdom

delights to bewilder the minds of mortals? But, shall we put confidence in

a malignant Providence, who laughs at, and sports with mankind? How will

one admire the unknown ways of a hidden wisdom, whose manner of acting is

inexplicable? Judge of it by effects, you will say. We do; and find, that

these effects are sometimes useful, and sometimes hurtful.

Men think they justify Providence, by saying, that, in this world, there

is much more good than evil to every individual of mankind. Supposing the

good, we enjoy from Providence, is to the evil, as a _hundred to ten_;

will it not still follow, that, for a hundred degrees of goodness,

Providence possesses ten of malignity; which is incompatible with the

supposed perfection of the divine nature.

Almost all books are filled with the most flattering praises of

Providence, whose attentive care is highly extolled. It would seem as

if man, to live happily here below, needed not his own exertions. Yet,

without his own labour, man could subsist hardly a day. To live, he is

obliged to sweat, toil, hunt, fish, and labour without intermission.

Without these second causes, the first cause, at least in most countries,

would provide for none of our wants. In all parts of the globe, we see

savage and civilized man in a perpetual struggle with Providence. He is

necessitated to ward off the strokes directed against him by Providence,

in hurricanes, tempests, frosts, hail-storms, inundations, droughts, and

the various accidents, which so often render useless all his labours. In a

word, we see man continually occupied in guarding against the ill offices

of that Providence, which is supposed to be attentive to his happiness.

A bigot admired divine Providence for wisely ordering rivers to pass

through those places, where men have built large cities. Is not this man's

reasoning as rational, as that of many learned men, who incessantly

talk of _final causes_, or who pretend that they clearly perceive the

beneficent views of God in the formation of all things?

53.

Do we see then, that Providence so very sensibly manifests herself in the

preservation of those admirable works, which we attribute to her? If it

is she, who governs the world, we find her as active in destroying, as

in forming; in exterminating, as in producing. Does she not every moment

destroy, by thousands, the very men, to whose preservation and welfare

we suppose her continually attentive? Every moment she loses sight of

her beloved creature. Sometimes she shakes his dwelling, sometimes she

annihilates his harvests, sometimes she inundates his fields, sometimes

she desolates them by a burning drought. She arms all nature against man.

She arms man himself against his own species, and commonly terminates his

existence in anguish. Is this then what is called preserving the universe?

If we could view, without prejudice, the equivocal conduct of Providence

towards the human race and all sensible beings, we should find, that far

from resembling a tender and careful mother, she resembles rather those

unnatural mothers, who instantly forgetting the unfortunates of their

licentious love, abandon their infants, as soon as they are born, and who,

content with having borne them, expose them, helpless, to the caprice of

fortune.

The Hottentots, in this respect are much wiser than other nations, who

treat them as barbarians, and refuse to worship God; because, they

say, _if he often does good, he often does evil_. Is not this manner of

reasoning more just and conformable to experience, than that of many men,

who are determined to see, in their God, nothing but goodness, wisdom, and

foresight, and who refuse to see that the innumerable evils, of which this

world is the theatre, must come from the same hand, which they kiss with

delight?

54.

Common sense teaches, that we cannot, and ought not, to judge of a cause,

but by its effects. A cause can be reputed constantly good, only when it

constantly produces good. A cause, which produces both good and evil, is

sometimes good, and sometimes evil. But the logic of theology destroys all

this. According to that, the phenomena of nature, or the effects we behold

in this world, prove to us the existence of a cause infinitely good; and

this cause is God. Although this world is full of evils; although disorder

often reigns in it; although men incessantly repine at their hard fate;

we must be convinced, that these effects are owing to a beneficent and

immutable cause; and many people believe it, or feign believe.

Every thing that passes in the world, proves to us, in the clearest

manner, that it is not governed by an intelligent being. We can judge of

the intelligence of a being only by the conformity of the means, which he

employs to attain his proposed object. The object of God, is the happiness

of a man. Yet, a like necessity governs the fate of all sensible beings,

who are born only to suffer much, enjoy little, and die. The cup of man

is filled with joy and bitterness; good is every where attended with evil;

order gives place to disorder; generation is followed by destruction.

If you say, that the designs of God are mysterious and that his ways are

impenetrable; I answer, that, in this case, it is impossible to judge

whether God be intelligent.

55.

You pretend, that God is immutable! What then produces a continual

instability in this world, which you make his empire? Is there a state,

subject to more frequent and cruel revolutions, than that of this unknown

monarch? How can we attribute to an immutable God, sufficiently powerful

to give solidity to his works, a government, in which every thing is in

continual vicissitude? If I imagine I see a God of uniform character in

all the effects favourable to my species, what kind of a God can I see in

their continual misfortunes? You tell me, it is our sins, which compel

him to punish. I answer, that God, according to yourselves, is then not

immutable, since the sins of men force him to change his conduct towards

them. Can a being, who is sometimes provoked, and sometimes appeased, be

constantly the same?

56.

The universe can be only what it is; all sensible beings in it enjoy and

suffer; that is, are moved sometimes in an agreeable, and sometimes in a

disagreeable manner. These effects are necessary; they result necessarily

from causes, which act only according to their properties. These effects

necessarily please, or displease, by a consequence of nature. This same

nature compels me to avoid, avert, and resist some things, and to seek,

desire, and procure others. In a world, where every thing is necessary,

a God, who remedies nothing, who leaves things to run in their necessary

course,--is he any thing but destiny, or necessity personified? It is a

deaf and useless God, who can effect no change in general laws, to which

he is himself subject. Of what importance is the infinite power of a

being, who will do but very little in my favour? Where is the infinite

goodness of a being, indifferent to happiness? Of what service is the

favour of a being, who, is able to do an infinite good, does not do even a

finite one?

57.

When we ask, why so many miserable objects appear under the government of

a good God, we are told, by way of consolation, that the present world

is only a passage, designed to conduct man to a happier one. The divines

assure us, that the earth we inhabit, is a state of trial. In short, they

shut our mouths, by saying, that God could communicate to his creatures

neither impossibility nor infinite happiness, which are reserved for

himself alone. Can such answers be satisfactory? 1st. The existence of

another life is guaranteed to us only by the imagination of man, who,

by supposing it, have only realized the desire they have of surviving

themselves, in order to enjoy hereafter a purer and more durable

happiness. 2ndly. How can we conceive that a God, who knows every thing,

and must be fully acquainted with the dispositions of his creatures,

should want so many experiments, in order to be sure of their

dispositions? 3rdly. According to the calculations of their chronologists,

our earth has existed six or seven thousand years. During that time,

nations have experienced calamities. History exhibits the human species

at all times tormented and ravaged by tyrants, conquerors, and heroes; by

wars, inundations, famines, plagues, etc. Are such long trials then likely

to inspire us with very great confidence in the secret views of the Deity?

Do such numerous and constant evils give a very exalted idea of the

future state, his goodness is preparing for us? 4thly. If God is so kindly

disposed, as he is asserted to be, without giving men infinite happiness,

could he not at least have communicated the degree of happiness, of which

finite beings are susceptible here below? To be happy, must we have an

_infinite_ or _divine_ happiness? 5thly. If God could not make men happier

than they are here below, what will become of the hope of a _paradise_,

where it is pretended, that the elect will for ever enjoy ineffable

bliss? If God neither could nor would avert evil from the earth, the only

residence we can know, what reason have we to presume, that he can or

will avert evil from another world, of which we have no idea? Epicurus

observed: "either God would remove evil out of this world, and cannot; or

he can, and will not; or he has neither the power nor will; or, lastly, he

has both the power and will. If he has the will, and not the power, this

shews weakness, which is contrary to the nature of God. If he has the

power, and not the will, it is malignity; and this is no less contrary

to his nature. If he is neither able nor willing, he is both impotent and

malignant, and consequently cannot be God. If he be both willing and able

(which alone is consonant to the nature of God) whence comes evil, or

why does he not prevent it?" Reflecting minds are still waiting for a

reasonable solution of these difficulties; and our divines tell us, that

they will be removed only in a future life.

58.

We are told of a pretended _scale of beings_. It is supposed, that God

has divided his creatures into different classes, in which each enjoys

the degree of happiness, of which it is susceptible. According to this

romantic arrangement, from the oyster to the celestial angels, all

beings enjoy a happiness, which is suitable to their nature. Experience

explicitly contradicts this sublime reverie. In this world, all sensible

beings suffer and live in the midst of dangers. Man cannot walk without

hurting, tormenting, or killing a multitude of sensible beings, which are

in his way; while he himself is exposed, at every step, to a multitude of

evils, foreseen or unforeseen, which may lead him to destruction. During

the whole course of his life, he is exposed to pains; he is not sure, a

moment, of his existence, to which he is so strongly attached, and which

he regards as the greatest gift of the Divinity.

59.

The world, it will be said, has all the perfection, of which it is

susceptible: since it is not God who made it, it must have great qualities

and great defects. But we answer, that, as the world must necessarily have

great defects, it would have been more conformable to the nature of a

good God, not to have created a world, which he could not make completely

happy. If God was supremely happy, before the creation of the world, and

could have continued to be supremely happy, without creating the world,

why did he not remain at rest? Why must man suffer? Why must man exist? Of

what importance is his existence to God? Nothing, or something? If man's

existence is not useful or necessary to God, why did God make man? If

man's existence is necessary to God's glory, he had need of man; he was

deficient in something before man existed. We can pardon an unskilful

workman for making an imperfect work; because he must work, well or ill,

upon penalty of starving. This workman is excusable, but God is not.

According to you, he is self-sufficient; if so, why does he make men? He

has, you say, every thing requisite to make man happy. Why then does he

not do it? Confess, that your God has more malice than goodness, unless

you admit, that God, was necessitated to do what he has done, without

being able to do it otherwise. Yet, you assure us, that God is free. You

say also, that he is immutable, although it was in _Time_ that he began

and ceased to exercise his power, like the inconstant beings of this

world. O theologians! Vain are your efforts to free your God from defects.

This perfect God has always some human imperfections.

60.

"Is not God master of his favours? Can he not give them? Can he not take

them away? It does not belong to his creatures to require reasons for

his conduct. He can dispose of the works of his own hands as he pleases.

Absolute sovereign of mortals, he distributes happiness or misery,

according to his good pleasure." Such are the solutions given by

theologians to console us for the evils which God inflicts upon us.

We reply, that a God, who is infinitely good, cannot be _master of his

favours_, but would by his nature be obliged to bestow them upon his

creatures; that a being, truly beneficent, cannot refrain from doing good;

that a being, truly generous, does not take back what he has given; and

that every man, who does so, dispenses with gratitude, and has no right to

complain of finding ungrateful men.

How can the odd and capricious conduct, which theologians ascribe to

God, be reconciled with religion, which supposes a covenant, or mutual

engagements between God and men? If God owes nothing to his creatures,

they, on their part, can owe nothing to their God. All religion is founded

upon the happiness that men think they have a right to expect from the

Deity, who is supposed to say to them: _Love me, adore me, obey me: and I

will make you happy_. Men, on their part, say to him: _Make us happy, be

faithful to your promises, and we will love you, we will adore you,

and obey your laws_. By neglecting the happiness of his creatures,

distributing his favours according to his caprice, and retracting his

gifts, does not God break the covenant, which serves as the basis of all

religion? Cicero has justly observed, that _if God is not agreeable to

man, he cannot be his God_. Goodness constitutes deity; this goodness can

be manifested to man only by the blessings he enjoys; as soon as he is

unhappy, this goodness disappears, and with it the divinity. An infinite

goodness can be neither limited, partial, nor exclusive. If God be

infinitely good, he owes happiness to all his creatures. The unhappiness

of a single being would suffice to annihilate unbounded goodness. Under an

infinitely good and powerful God, is it possible to conceive that a single

man should suffer? One animal, or mite, that suffers, furnishes invincible

arguments against divine providence and its infinite goodness.

61.

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