According to theology, the afflictions and evils of this life are

chastisements, which guilty men incur from the hand of God. But why are

men guilty? If God is omnipotent, does it cost him more to say: "Let every

thing in the world be in order; let all my subjects be good, innocent, and

fortunate," than to say: "Let every thing exist"? Was it more difficult

for this God to do his work well, than badly? Religion tells us of a

hell; that is, a frightful abode, where, notwithstanding his goodness,

God reserves infinite torments for the majority of men. Thus after having

rendered mortals very unhappy in this world, religion tells them, that God

can render them still more unhappy in another! The theologian gets over

this, by saying, that the goodness of God will then give place to his

justice. But a goodness, which gives place to the most terrible cruelty,

is not an infinite goodness. Besides, can a God, who, after having been

infinitely good, becomes infinitely bad, be regarded as an immutable

being? Can we discern the shadow of clemency or goodness, in a God filled

with implacable fury?

62.

Divine justice, as stated by our divines, is undoubtedly a quality very

proper to cherish in us the love of the Divinity. According to the ideas

of modern theology, it is evident, that God has created the majority of

men, with the sole view of putting them in a fair way to incur eternal

punishment. Would it not have been more conformable to goodness, reason,

and equity, to have created only stones or plants, and not to have created

sensible beings; than to have formed men, whose conduct in this world

might subject them to endless punishment in the other? A God perfidious

and malicious enough to create a single man, and then to abandon him to

the danger of being damned, cannot be regarded as a perfect being; but

as an unreasonable, unjust, and ill-natured. Very far from composing

a perfect God, theologians have formed the most imperfect of beings.

According to theological notions, God would resemble a tyrant, who, having

put out the eyes of the greater part of his slaves, should shut them up

in a dungeon, where, for his amusement, he would, incognito, observe their

conduct through a trap-door, in order to punish with rigour all those,

who, while walking about, should hit against each other; but who would

magnificently reward the few whom he had not deprived of sight, in

avoiding to run against their comrades. Such are the ideas, which the

dogma of gratuitous predestination gives us of the divinity!

Although men are continually repeating that their God is infinitely good;

yet it is evident, that in reality, they can believe nothing of the

kind. How can we love what we do not know? How can we love a being, whose

character is only fit to throw us into inquietude and trouble? How can we

love a being, of whom all that is said tends to render him an object of

utter detestation?

63.

Many people make a subtle distinction between true religion and

superstition. They say, that the latter is only a base and inordinate fear

of the Deity; but that the truly religious man has confidence in his God,

and loves him sincerely; whereas, the superstitious man sees in him only

an enemy, has no confidence in him, and represents him to himself as

a distrustful, cruel tyrant, sparing of his benefits, lavish of his

chastisements. But, in reality, does not all religion give us the same

ideas of God? At the same time that we are told, that God is infinitely

good, are we not also told, that he is very easily provoked, that he

grants his favours to a few people only, and that he furiously chastises

those, to whom he has not been pleased to grant favours?

64.

If we take our ideas of God from the nature of things, where we find a

mixture of good and evil, this God, just like the good and evil of which

we experience, must naturally appear capricious, inconstant, sometimes

good, and sometimes malevolent; and therefore, instead of exciting our

love, must generate distrust, fear, and uncertainty. There is then no

real difference between natural religion, and the most gloomy and servile

superstition. If the theist sees God only in a favourable light; the bigot

views him in the most hideous light. The folly of the one is cheerful,

that of the other is melancholy; but both are equally delirious.

65.

If I draw my ideas of God from theology, he appears to inspire aversion.

Devotees, who tell us, that they sincerely love their God, are either

liars or fools, who see their God only in profile. It is impossible to

love a being, the very idea of whom strikes us with terror, and whose

judgments make us tremble. How can we, without being alarmed, look upon

a God, who is reputed to be barbarous enough to damn us? Let not divines

talk to us of a filial, or respectful fear, mixed with love, which men

ought to have for their God. A son can by no means love his father, when

he knows him to be cruel enough to inflict upon him studied torments for

the least faults he may commit. No man upon earth can have the least spark

of love for a God, who reserves chastisements, infinite in duration and

violence, for ninety-nine hundredths of his children.

66.

The inventors of the dogma of eternal hell-torments have made of that God,

whom they call so good, the most detestable of beings. Cruelty in men is

the last act of wickedness. Every sensible mind must revolt at the bare

recital of the torments, inflicted on the greatest criminal; but cruelty

is much more apt to excite indignation, when void of motives. The most

sanguinary tyrants, the Caligulas, the Neros, the Domitians, had, at

least, some motives for tormenting their victims. These motives were,

either their own safety, or the fury of revenge, or the design of

frightening by terrible examples, or perhaps the vanity of making

a display of their power, and the desire of satisfying a barbarous

curiosity. Can a God have any of these motives? In tormenting the victims

of his wrath, he would punish beings, who could neither endanger his

immoveable power, nor disturb his unchangeable felicity. On the other

hand, the punishments of the other life would be useless to the living,

who cannot be witnesses of them. These punishments would be useless to the

damned, since in hell there is no longer room for conversion, and the

time of mercy is past. Whence it follows, that God, in the exercise of

his eternal vengeance, could have no other end than to amuse himself,

and insult the weakness of his creatures. I appeal to the whole human

race;--is there a man who feels cruel enough coolly to torment, I do

not say his fellow-creature, but any sensible being whatever, without

emolument, without profit, without curiosity, without having any thing

to fear? Confess then, O theologians, that, even according to your own

principles, your God is infinitely more malevolent than the worst of men.

Perhaps you will say, that infinite offences deserve infinite punishments.

I answer, that we cannot offend a God, whose happiness is infinite; that

the offences of finite beings cannot be infinite; that a God, who

is unwilling to be offended, cannot consent that the offences of his

creatures should be eternal; that a God, infinitely good, can neither be

infinitely cruel, nor grant his creatures an infinite duration, solely for

the pleasure of eternal torments.

Nothing but the most savage barbarity, the most egregious roguery, or the

blindest ambition could have imagined the doctrine of eternal punishments.

If there is a God, whom we can offend or blaspheme, there are not upon

earth greater blasphemers than those, who dare to say, that this same God

is a tyrant, perverse enough to delight, during eternity, in the useless

torments of his feeble creatures.

67.

To pretend, that God can be offended at the actions of men, is to

annihilate all the ideas, which divines endeavour to give us, in other

respects, of this being. To say, that man can trouble the order of the

universe; that he can kindle the thunder in the hands of his God; that

he can defeat his projects, is to say, that man is stronger than his God,

that he is the arbiter of his will, that it depends upon him to change

his goodness into cruelty. Theology continually pulls down, with one hand,

what it erects with the other. If all religion is founded upon a God,

who is provoked and appeased, all religion is founded on a palpable

contradiction.

All religions agree in exalting the wisdom and infinite power of the

Deity. But no sooner do they display his conduct, than we see nothing

but imprudence, want of foresight, weakness and folly. God, it is said,

created the world for himself; and yet, hitherto, he has never been able

to make himself suitably honoured by it. God created men in order to have,

in his dominions, subjects to render him their homage; and yet, we see men

in continual revolt against him.

68.

They incessantly extol the divine perfections; and when we demand

proofs of them, they point to his works, in which, they assure us, these

perfections are written in indelible characters. All these works are,

however, imperfect and perishable. Man, who is ever regarded as the

most marvellous work, as the master-piece of the Deity, is full of

imperfections, which render him disagreeable to the eyes of the almighty

Being, who formed him. This surprising work often becomes so revolting and

odious to its author, that he is obliged to throw it into the fire. But,

if the fairest of God's works is imperfect, how can we judge of the

divine perfections? Can a work, with which the author himself is so little

pleased, induce us to admire the ability of its Maker? Man, considered

in a physical sense, is subject to a thousand infirmities, to numberless

evils, and to death. Man, considered in a moral sense, is full of faults;

yet we are unceasingly told, that he is the most beautiful work of the

most perfect of beings.

69.

In creating beings more perfect than men, it appears, that heretofore God

has not better succeeded, nor given stronger proofs of his perfection.

Do we not see, in many religions, that angels, have even attempted to

dethrone him? God proposed the happiness of angels and men; yet, he has

never been able to render happy either angels or men;--the pride, malice,

sins, and imperfections of the creatures have always opposed the will of

the perfect Creator.

70.

All religion is obviously founded upon this principle, that _God does what

he can, and man what he will_. Every system of religion presents to us

an unequal combat between the Deity on one part, and his creatures on the

other, in which the former never comes off to his honour. Notwithstanding

his omnipotence, he cannot succeed in rendering the works of his hands

such as he would have them. To complete the absurdity, there is a

religion, which pretends, that God himself has died to redeem mankind; and

yet, men are not farther from any thing, than they are from what God would

have them.

71.

Nothing is more extravagant, than the part, theology makes the Divinity

act in every country. Did he really exist, we should see in him the most

capricious, and senseless being. We should be compelled to believe, that

God made the world only to be the theatre of his disgraceful wars with

his creatures; that he created angels, men, and demons, only to make

adversaries, against whom he might exercise his power. He renders men free

to offend him, malicious enough to defeat his projects, too obstinate to

submit; and all this merely for the pleasure of being angry, appeased,

reconciled, and of repairing the disorder they have made. Had the Deity at

once formed his creatures such as he would have them, what pains would he

not have spared himself, or, at least, from what embarrassments would he

not have relieved his theologians!

Every religion represents God as busy only in doing himself evil. He

resembles those empirics, who inflict upon themselves wounds, to have an

opportunity of exhibiting to the public the efficacy of their ointment.

But we see not, that the Deity has hitherto been able radically to cure

himself of the evil, which he suffers from man.

72.

God is the author of all; and yet, we are assured that evil does not come

from God. Whence then does it come? From man. But, who made man? God. Evil

then comes from God. If he had not made man as he is, moral evil or sin

would not have existed in the world. The perversity of man is therefore

chargeable to God. If man has power to do evil, or to offend God, we are

forced to infer, that God chooses to be offended; that God, who made man,

has resolved that man shall do evil; otherwise man would be an effect

contrary to the cause, from which he derives his being.

73.

Man ascribes to God the faculty of foreseeing, or knowing beforehand

whatever will happen; but this prescience seldom turns to his glory,

nor protects him from the lawful reproaches of man. If God foreknows

the future, must he not have foreseen the fall of his creatures? If he

resolved in his decrees to permit this fall, it is undoubtedly because it

was his will that this fall should take place, otherwise it could not have

happened. If God's foreknowledge of the sins of his creatures had been

necessary or forced, one might suppose, that he has been constrained by

his justice to punish the guilty; but, enjoying the faculty of foreseeing,

and the power of predetermining every thing, did it not depend upon God

not to impose upon himself cruel laws, or, at least, could he not dispense

with creating beings, whom he might be under the necessity of punishing,

and rendering unhappy by a subsequent decree? Of what consequence is it,

whether God has destined men to happiness or misery by an anterior decree,

an effect of his prescience, or by a posterior decree, an effect of

his justice? Does the arrangement of his decrees alter the fate of the

unhappy? Would they not have the same right to complain of a God, who,

being able to omit their creation, has notwithstanding created them,

although he plainly foresaw that his justice would oblige him, sooner or

later, to punish them?

74.

"Man," you say, "when he came from the hand of God, was pure, innocent,

and good; but his nature has been corrupted, as a punishment for sin."

If man, when just out of the hands of his God, could sin, his nature was

imperfect. Why did God suffer him to sin, and his nature to be corrupted?

Why did God permit him to be seduced, well knowing that he was too feeble

to resist temptation? Why did God create _satan_, an evil spirit, a

tempter? Why did not God, who wishes so much good to the human race,

annihilate once for all so many evil genii, who are naturally enemies of

our happiness; or rather, why did God create evil spirits, whose victories

and fatal influence over mankind, he must have foreseen? In fine, by what

strange fatality in all religions of the world, has the evil principle

such a decided advantage over the good principle, or the divinity?

75.

There is related an instance of simplicity, which does honour to the heart

of an Italian monk. One day, while preaching, this pious man thought

he must announce to his audience, that he had, thank heaven, at last

discovered, by dint of meditation, a sure way of rendering all men happy.

"The devil," said he, "tempts men only to have in hell companions of his

misery. Let us therefore apply to the Pope, who has the keys of heaven

and hell; let us prevail upon him to pray to God, at the head of the whole

church, to consent to a reconciliation with the devil, to restore him to

favour, to reinstate him in his former rank, which cannot fail to put an

end to his malicious projects against mankind." Perhaps the honest monk

did not see, that the devil is at least as useful as God to the ministers

of religion. They have too much interest in their dissensions, to be

instrumental in an accommodation between two enemies, upon whose combats

their own existence and revenues depend. Let men cease to be tempted

and to sin, and the ministry of priests will be useless. Manicheism is

evidently the hinge of every religion; but unhappily, the devil, invented

to clear the deity from the suspicion of malice, proves to us, every

moment, the impotence or unskilfulness of his celestial adversary.

76.

The nature of man, it is said, was necessarily liable to corruption. God

could not communicate to him _impeccability_, which is an inalienable

attribute of his divine perfection. But if God could not make man

impeccable, why did he give himself the pains to make man, whose nature

must necessarily be corrupted, and who must consequently offend God? On

the other hand, if God himself could not make human nature impeccable, by

what right does he punish men for not being impeccable? It can be only

by the right of the strongest; but the right of the strongest is called

violence, and violence cannot be compatible with the justest of beings.

God would be supremely unjust, should he punish men for not sharing with

him his divine perfections, or for not being able to be gods like him.

Could not God, at least, have communicated to all men that kind of

perfection, of which their nature is susceptible? If some men are good,

or render themselves agreeable to their God, why has not that God done the

same favour, or given the same dispositions to all beings of our species?

Why does the number of the wicked so much exceed the number of the good?

Why, for one friend, has God ten thousand enemies, in a world, which it

depended entirely upon him to people with honest men? If it be true, that,

in heaven, God designs to form a court of saints, of elect, or of men who

shall have lived upon earth conformably to his views, would he not have

had a more numerous, brilliant, and honourable assembly, had he composed

it of all men, to whom, in creating them, he could grant the degree of

goodness, necessary to attain eternal happiness? Finally, would it not

have been shorter not to have made man, than to have created him a being

full of faults, rebellious to his creator, perpetually exposed to cause

his own destruction by a fatal abuse of his liberty?

Instead of creating men, a perfect God ought to have created only angels

very docile and submissive. Angels, it is said, are free; some have

sinned; but, at any rate, all have not abused their liberty by revolting

against their master. Could not God have created only angels of the good

kind? If God has created angels, who have not sinned, could he not have

created impeccable men, or men who should never abuse their liberty? If

the elect are incapable of sinning in heaven, could not God have made

impeccable men upon earth?

77.

Divines never fail to persuade us, that the enormous distance which

separates God and man, necessarily renders the conduct of God a mystery

to us, and that we have no right to interrogate our master. Is this answer

satisfactory? Since my eternal happiness is at stake, have I not a right

to examine the conduct of God himself? It is only in hope of happiness

that men submit to the authority of a God. A despot, to whom men submit

only through fear, a master, whom they cannot interrogate, a sovereign

totally inaccessible, can never merit the homage of intelligent beings.

If the conduct of God is a mystery, it is not made for us. Man can neither

adore, admire, respect, nor imitate conduct, in which every thing is

inconceivable, or, of which he can often form only revolting ideas; unless

it is pretended, that we ought to adore every thing of which we are forced

to be ignorant, and that every thing, which we do not know, becomes for

that reason an object of admiration. Divines! You never cease telling us,

that the designs of God are impenetrable; that _his ways are not our

ways, nor his thoughts our thoughts_; that it is absurd to complain of

his administration, of the motives and springs of which we are totally

ignorant; that it is presumption to tax his judgments with injustice,

because we cannot comprehend them. But when you speak in this strain, do

you not perceive, that you destroy with your own hands all your profound

systems, whose only end is to explain to us the ways of the divinity,

which, you say, are impenetrable? Have you penetrated his judgments, his

ways, his designs? You dare not assert it, and though you reason about

them without end, you do not comprehend them any more than we do. If, by

chance, you know the plan of God, which you wish us to admire, while

most people find it so little worthy of a just, good, intelligent, and

reasonable being, no longer say, this plan is impenetrable. If you are as

ignorant of it as we are, have some indulgence for those who ingenuously

confess, they comprehend nothing in it, or that they see in it nothing

divine. Cease to persecute for opinions, of which you understand nothing

yourselves; cease to defame each other for dreams and conjectures, which

every thing seems to contradict. Talk to us of things intelligible and

really useful to men; and no longer talk to us of the impenetrable ways of

God, about which you only stammer and contradict yourselves.

By continually speaking of the immense depths of divine wisdom, forbidding

us to sound them, saying it is insolence to cite God before the tribunal

of our feeble reason, making it a crime to judge our master, divines

teach us nothing but the embarrassment they are in, when it is required to

account for the conduct of a God, whose conduct they think marvellous only

because they are utterly incapable of comprehending it themselves.

78.

Physical evil is commonly regarded as a punishment for sin. Diseases,

famines, wars, earthquakes, are means which God uses to chastise wicked

men. Thus, they make no scruple of attributing these evils to the severity

of a just and good God. But, do not these scourges fall indiscriminately

upon the good and bad, upon the impious and devout, upon the innocent and

guilty? How, in this proceeding, would they have us admire the justice

and goodness of a being, the idea of whom seems comforting to so many

wretches, whose brain must undoubtedly be disordered by their misfortunes,

since they forget, that their God is the arbiter, the sole disposer of the

events of this world. This being the case, ought they not to impute their

sufferings to him, into whose arms they fly for comfort? Unfortunate

father! Thou consolest thyself in the bosom of Providence, for the loss of

a dear child, or beloved wife, who made thy happiness. Alas! Dost thou not

see, that thy God has killed them? Thy God has rendered thee miserable,

and thou desirest thy God to comfort thee for the dreadful afflictions he

has sent thee!

The chimerical or supernatural notions of theology have so succeeded in

destroying, in the minds of men, the most simple, dear, and natural ideas,

that the devout, unable to accuse God of malice, accustom themselves to

regard the several strokes of fate as indubitable proofs of celestial

goodness. When in affliction, they are ordered to believe that God loves

them, that God visits them, that God wishes to try them. Thus religion has

attained the art of converting evil into good! A profane person said with

reason--_If God Almighty thus treats those whom he loves, I earnestly

beseech him never to think of me_.

Men must have received very gloomy and cruel ideas of their God, who is

called so good, to believe that the most dreadful calamities and piercing

afflictions are marks of his favour! Would an evil genius, a demon,

be more ingenious in tormenting his enemies, than the God of goodness

sometimes is, who so often exercises his severity upon his dearest

friends?

79.

Good Sense · 第 4 / 14 段