_Of the confused and contradictory Ideas of Theology._
Every thing that has been said, proves pretty clearly, that, in despite
of all his efforts, man has never been able to prevent himself from
drawing together from his own peculiar nature, the qualities he has
assigned to the Being who governs the universe. The contradictions
necessarily resulting from the incompatible assemblage of these human
qualities, which cannot become suitable to the same subject, seeing
that the existence of one destroys the existence of the other, have
been shewn:--the theologians themselves have felt the insurmountable
difficulties which their divinities presented to reason: they were
so substantive, that as they felt the impossibility of withdrawing
themselves out of the dilemma, they endeavoured to prevent man
from reasoning, by throwing his mind into confusion--by continually
augmenting the perplexity of those ideas, already so discordant, which
they offered him of the gods. By these means they enveloped them in
mystery, covered them with dense clouds, rendered them inaccessible to
mankind: thus they themselves became the interpreters, the masters of
explaining, according either to their fancy or their interest, the ways
of those enigmatical beings they made him adore. For this purpose they
exaggerated them more and more--neither time nor space, nor the
entire of nature could contain their immensity--every thing became an
impenetrable mystery. Although man has originally borrowed from himself
the traits, the colours, the primitive lineaments of which he composed
his gods; although he has made them jealous, powerful, vindictive
monarchs, yet his theology, by force of dreaming, entirely lost sight
of human nature. In order to render his divinities still more different
from their creatures, it assigned them, over and above the usual
qualities of man, properties so marvellous, so uncommon, so far removed
from every thing of which his mind could form a conception, that he lost
sight of them himself. From thence he persuaded himself these qualities
were divine, because he could no longer comprehend them; he believed
them worthy of his gods, because no man could figure to himself any one
distinct idea of them. Thus theology obtained the point of persuading
man he must believe that which he could not conceive; that he must
receive with submission improbable systems; that he must adopt, with
pious deference, conjectures contrary to his reason; that this reason
itself was the most agreeable sacrifice he could make on the altars of
his gods, who were unwilling he should use the gift they had bestowed
upon him. In short, it had made mortals implicitly believe that they
were not formed to comprehend the thing of all others the most important
to themselves. Thus it is evident that superstition founded its basis
upon the absurd principle that man is obliged to accredit firmly that
which he is in the most complete impossibility of comprehending. On
the other hand, man persuaded himself that the gigantic, the truly
incomprehensible attributes which were assigned to these celestial
monarchs, placed between them and their slaves a distance so immense,
that these could not be by any means offended with the comparison; that
these distinctions rendered them still greater; made them more powerful,
more marvellous, more inaccessible to observation. Man always entertains
the idea, that what he is not in a condition to conceive, is much more
noble, much wore respectable, than that which he has the capacity
to comprehend. The more a thing is removed from his reach, the more
valuable it always appears.
These prejudices in man for the marvellous, appear to have been the
source that gave birth to those wonderful, unintelligible qualities with
which superstition clothed these divinities. The invincible ignorance
of the human mind, whose fears reduced him to despair, engendered those
obscure, vague notions, with which mythology decorated its gods. He
believed he could never displease them, provided he rendered them
incommensurable; impossible to be compared with any thing, of which he
had a knowledge; either with that which was most sublime, or that which
possessed the greatest magnitude, From hence the multitude of negative
attributes with which ingenious dreamers have successively embellished
their phantoms, to the end that they might more surely form a being
distinguished from all others, or which possessed nothing in common with
that which the human mind had the faculty of being acquainted with: they
did not perceive that after all their endeavours, it was nothing wore
than exaggerated human qualities, which they thus heaped together, with
no more skill than a painter would display who should delineate all the
members of the body of the same size, taking a giant for dimension.
The theological attributes with which metaphysicians decorated these
divinities, were in fact nothing but pure negations of the qualities
found in man, or in those beings of which he has a knowledge; by these
attributes their gods were supposed exempted from every thing which they
considered weakness or imperfection in him, or in the beings by whom he
is surrounded: they called every quality infinite, which has been
shewn is only to affirm, that unlike man, or the beings with whom he
is acquainted, it is not circumscribed by the limits of space; this,
however, is what he can never in any manner comprehend, because he is
himself finite. Hobbes in his _Leviathan_, says, "whatsoever we imagine
is finite. Therefore there is no idea, or conception of any thing
we call infinite. No man can have in his mind an image of infinite
magnitude, nor conceive infinite swiftness, infinite time, infinite
force, or infinite power. When we say any thing is infinite, we signify
only, that we are not able to conceive the ends and bound of the thing
named, having no conception of the thing, but of our own inability."
Sherlock says, "the word infinite is only a negation, which signifies
that which has neither end, nor limits, nor extent, and, consequently,
that which has no positive and determinate nature, and is therefore
nothing;" he adds, "that nothing but custom has caused this word to
be adopted, which without that, would appear devoid of sense, and a
contradiction."
When it is said these gods are eternal, it signifies they have not had,
like man or like every thing that exists, a beginning, and that they
will never have an end: to say they are immutable, is to say, that
unlike himself or every thing which he sees, they are not subject to
change: to say they are immaterial, is to advance, that their substance
or essence is of a nature not conceivable by himself, but which must
from that very circumstance be totally different from every thing of
which he has cognizance.
It is from the confused collection of these negative qualities, that has
resulted the theological gods; those metaphysical wholes of which it
is impossible for man to form to himself any correct idea. In
these abstract beings every thing is infinity,--immensity,--
spirituality,--omniscience,--order,--wisdom,--intelligence,--
omnipotence. In combining these vague terms, or these modifications, the
ethnic priests believed they formed something, they extended these
qualities by thought, and they imagined they made gods, whilst they only
composed chimeras. They imagined that these perfections or these
qualities must be suitable to their gods, because they were not suitable
to any thing of which they had a knowledge; they believed that
incomprehensible beings must have inconceivable qualities. These were
the materials of which theology availed itself to compose those
inexplicable shadows before which they commanded the human race to bend
the knee.
Nevertheless, experience soon proved that beings so vague, so impossible
to be conceived, so incapable of definition, so far removed from every
thing of which man could have any knowledge, were but little calculated
to fix his restless views; his mind requires to be arrested by qualities
which he is capacitated to ascertain; of which he is in a condition to
form a judgment. Thus after it had subtilized these metaphysical gods,
after it had rendered them so different in idea, from every thing that
acts upon the senses, theology found itself under the necessity of
again assimilating them to man, from whom it had so far removed them: it
therefore again made them human by the moral qualities which it assigned
them; it felt that without this it would not be able to persuade mankind
there could possibly exist any relation between him and such vague,
ethereal, fugitive, incommensurable beings; that it would never be
competent to secure for them his adoration.
It began to perceive that these marvellous gods were only calculated
to exercise the imagination of some few thinkers, whose minds were
accustomed to labour upon chimerical subjects, or to take words for
realities; in short it found, that for the greater number of the
material children of the earth it was necessary to have gods more
analogous to themselves, more sensible, more known to them. In
consequence these divinities were re-clothed with human qualities;
theology never felt the incompatibility of these qualities with beings
it had made essentially different from man, who consequently could
neither have his properties, nor be modified like himself. It did not
see that gods who were immaterial, destitute of corporeal organs, were
neither able to think nor to act as material beings, whose peculiar
organizations render them susceptible of the qualities, the feelings
the will, the virtues, that are found in them. The necessity it felt to
assimilate the gods to their worshippers, to make an affinity
between them, made it pass over without consideration these palpable
contradictions--this want of keeping in their portrait: thus ethnic
theology obstinately continued to unite those incompatible qualities,
that discrepancy of character, which the human mind attempted in vain
either to conceive or to reconcile: according to it, pure spirits were
the movers of the material world; immense beings were enabled to occupy
space, without however excluding nature; immutable deities were the
causes of those continual changes operated in the world: omnipotent
beings did not prevent those evils which were displeasing to them;
the sources of order submitted to confusion: in short, the wonderful
properties of these theological beings every moment contradicted
themselves.
There is not less discrepancy, less incompatibility, less discordance
in the human perfections, less contradiction in the moral qualities
attributed to them, to the end that man might be enabled to form to
himself some idea of these beings. These were all said to be _eminently_
possessed by the gods, although they every moment contradicted each
other: by this means they formed a kind of patch-work character,
heterogeneous beings, discrepant phenomena, entirely inconceivable to
man, because nature had never constructed any thing like them, whereby
he was enabled to form a judgment. Man was assured they were eminently
good--that it was visible in all their actions. Now goodness is a known
quality, recognizable in some beings of the human species; this is,
above every other, a property he is desirous to find in all those upon
whom he is in a state of dependence; but he is unable to bestow the
title of good on any among his fellows, except their actions produce on
him those effects which he approves--that he finds in unison with his
existence--in conformity with his own peculiar modes of thinking. It was
evident, according to this reasoning, these ethnic gods did not impress
him with this idea; they were said to be equally the authors of his
pleasures, as of his pains, which were to be either secured or averted
by sacrifices: thus when man suffered by contagion, when he was the
victim of shipwreck, when his country was desolated by war, when he saw
whole nations devoured by rapacious earthquakes, when he was a prey to
the keenest sorrows, he at least was unable to conceive the bounty of
those beings. How could he perceive the beautiful order which they had
introduced into the world, while he groaned under such a multitude of
calamities? How was he able to discern the beneficence of men whom he
beheld sporting as it were with his species? How could he conceive the
consistency of those who destroyed that which he was assured they had
taken such pains to establish, solely for his own peculiar happiness?
But had his mind been properly enlightened, had he been taught to know,
that nature, acting by unerring laws, produces all the phenomena he
beholds as a necessary consequence of her primitive impulse--that
like the rest of nature he was himself subjected to the general
operation--that no peculiar exemption had been made in his behalf--that
sacrifices were useless--that the great _Parent of parents_, equally
mindful of all his creatures, had set in action with the most consummate
wisdom an invariable system, the apparent, casual evils of which were
ever counterbalanced by the resulting good; that without repining, it
was his duty, his interest, to submit; at the same time to examine with
sedulity, to search with earnestness, into the recesses of this nature
for remedies to the sorrows he endured. If he had been thus instructed,
we should never behold him arraigning either the kindness, the wisdom,
or the consistency of the gods; he would neither have ascribed his
sufferings to the malicious interference of inferior deities, so
derogatory to the divine majesty of the _Great Cause of causes_, nor
would he have taxed with either inconsistency or unkindness, that nature
which cannot act otherwise than she does. Perhaps of all the ideas that
can be infused into the mind of man, none is more really subversive of
his true happiness, none more incompatible with the reality of things,
than that which persuades him he is himself a privileged being, the king
of a nature where every thing is submitted to laws, the extent of which
his finite mind cannot possibly conceive. Even admitting it should
ultimately turn out to be a fact, he has yet no one positive evidence
to justify the assumption; experience, which after all must always prove
the best criterion for his judgment, daily proves, that in every thing
he is subjected, like every other part of nature, to those invariable
decrees from which nothing that he beholds is exempted.
Feeble monarch! of whom a grain of sand, some atoms of bile, some
misplaced humours, destroy at once the existence and the reign: yet thou
pretendest every thing was made for thee! Thou desirest that the entire
of nature should be thy domain, and thou canst not even defend thyself
from the slightest of her shocks! Thou makest to thyself a god for
thyself alone; thou supposest that he unceasingly occupieth himself only
for thy peculiar happiness; thou imaginest every thing was made solely
for thy pleasure; and, following up thy presumptuous ideas, thou hast
the audacity to call nature good or bad as thy weak intellect inclines:
thou darest to think that the kindness exhibited towards thee, in common
with other beings, is contradicted by the evil genii thy fancy has
created! Dost thou not see that those beasts which thou supposest
submitted to thine empire, frequently devour thy fellow-creatures;
that fire consumeth them; that the ocean swalloweth them up; that those
elements of which thou sometimes admirest the order, which sometimes
thou accusest of confusion, frequently sweep them off the face of the
earth; dost thou not see that all this is necessarily what it must be;
that thou art not in any manner consulted in any of this phenomena?
Indeed, according to thine own ideas, if thou wast to examine them with
care, dost thou not admit that thy gods are the universal cause of all;
that they maintain the whole by the destruction of its parts. Are they
not then according to thyself, the gods of nature--of the ocean--of
rivers--of mountains--of the earth, in which they occupiest, so very
small a space--of all those other globes that thou seest roll in
the regions of space--of those orbs that revolve round the sun that
enlighteneth thee?--Cease, then, obstinately to persist in beholding
nothing but thy sickly self in nature; do not flatter thyself that the
human race, which reneweth itself, which disappeareth like the leaves
on the trees, can absorb all the care, can ingross all the tenderness
of that universal being, who, according to thyself, properly understood,
ruleth the destiny of all things. Submit thyself in silence to mandates
which thy unavailing prayers; can never change; to a wisdom which
thy imbecility cannot fathom; to the unerring shafts of a fate, which
nothing but thine own vanity, aided by thy perverse ignorance, could
ever question, being the best possible good that can befall thee! which
if thou couldst alter, thou wouldst with thy defective judgment render
worse! What is the human race compared to the earth? What is this earth
compared to the sun? What is our sun compared to those myriads of suns
which at immense distances occupy the regions of space? not for the
purpose of diverting thy weak eyes; not with a view to excite thy stupid
admiration, as thou vainly imaginest; since multitudes of them are
placed out of the range of thy visual organs: but to occupy the place
which necessity hath assigned them. Mortal, feeble and vain! restore
thyself to thy proper sphere; acknowledge every where the effect
of necessity; recognize in thy benefits, behold in thy sorrows, the
different modes of action of those various beings endowed with such a
variety of properties, which surround thee; of which the macrocosm is
the assemblage; and do not any longer suppose that this nature, much
less its great cause, can possess such incompatible qualities as would
be the result of human views or of visionary ideas, which have no
existence but in thyself.
As long as theologians shall continue obstinately bent to make man the
model of their gods; as long ask they shall pertinaciously undertake to
explain the nature of these gods, which they will never be able to
do, but after human ideas, although they may associate the most
heterogeneous properties, the most discrepant functions; so long, I say,
experience will contradict at every moment the beneficent views they,
attach to their divinities; it will be in vain that they call them
good: man, reasoning thus, will never be able to find good but in those
objects which impel him in a manner favourable to his actual mode
of existence; he always finds confusion in that which fills him with
grievous sensations; he calls evil every thing that painfully affects
him, even cursorily; those beings that produce in him two modes of
feeling, so very opposite to each other, he will naturally conclude are
sometimes favourable, sometimes unfavourable to him; at least, if he
will not allow that they act necessarily, consequently are neither one
nor the other, he will say that a world where he experiences so much
evil cannot be submitted to men who are perfectly good; on the other
hand, he will also assume that a world in which man receives so many
benefits, cannot be governed by those who are without kindness. Thus
he is obliged to admit of two principles equally powerful, who are
in hostility with each other; or rather, he must agree that the same
persons are alternately kind and unkind; this after all is nothing more
than avowing they cannot be otherwise than they are; in this case it
would be useless to sacrifice to them--to make solicitation; seeing
it would be nothing but _destiny_--the necessity of things submitted
invariable rules.
In order to justify these beings, constructed upon mortal principles,
from injustice, in consequence of the evils the human species
experience, the theologian is reduced to the necessity of calling them
punishments inflicted for the transgressions of man. But then these
general calamities include all men. Some, at least, may be supposed not
to have offended. Thus he involves contradictions he finds it difficult
to reconcile; to effectuate this he makes his _anthropomorphites_
immaterial--incorporeal; that is, he says they are the negation of every
thing of which he has a knowledge; consequently, beings who can have no
relation with corporeal beings: and this avails him no better, as
will be evident by reasoning on the subject. To offend any one, is to
diminish the sum of his happiness; it is to afflict him, to deprive
him of something, to make him experience a painful sensation. How is it
possible man can operate on such beings; how can the physical actions
of a material substance have any influence over an immaterial substance,
devoid of parts, having no point of contact. How can a corporeal being
make an incorporeal being experience incommodious sensations? On the
other hand, _justice_, according to the only ideas man can ever form of
it, supposes, a permanent disposition to render to each what is due
to him; the theologian will not admit that the beings he has jumbled
together owe any thing to man; he insists that the benefits they bestow
are all the gratuitous effects of their own goodness; that they have
the right to dispose of the work of their hands according to their
own pleasure; to plunge it if they please into the abyss of misery; in
short, that their volition is the only guide of their conduct. It is
easy to see, that according to man's idea of justice, this does not
even contain the shadow of it; that it is, in fact, the mode of action
adopted by what he calls the most frightful tyrants. How then can he
be induced to call men just who act after this manner? Indeed, while
he sees innocence suffering, virtue in tears, crime triumphant, vice
recompensed, and at the same time, is told the beings whom theology has
invented are the authors, he will never be able to acknowledge them
to have _justice_. But he will find no such contradictory qualities in
nature, where every thing is the result of immutable laws: he will at
once perceive that these transient evils produce more permanent good;
that they are necessary to the conservation of the whole, or else result
from modifications of matter, which it is competent for him to change,
by altering his own mode of action; a lesson that nature herself teaches
him when he is willing to receive her instructions. But to form gods
with human passions, is to make them appear unjust; to say that such
beings chastise their friends for their own I good, is at once to
upset all the ideas he has either of kindness or unkindness: thus
the incompatible human qualities ascribed to these beings, do in fact
destroy their existence. If it be insisted they have the knowledge and
power of man, only that they are more extended, then it becomes a very
natural reply, to say, since they know every thing, they ought at least
to restrain mischief; because this would be the observation of man upon
the action of his fellows;--if it be urged these qualities are similar
to the same qualities possessed by man, then it may be fairly asked in
what do they differ? To this, if any answer be given, be what it may, it
will still be only changing the language: it will be invariably another
method of expressing the same thing; seeing that man with all his
ingenuity, will never be able to describe properties but after himself
or those of the beings by whom he is surrounded.
Where is the man filled with kindness, endowed with humanity, who does
not desire with all his heart to render his fellow creatures happy? If
these beings, as the theologians assert, really have man's qualities
augmented, would they not, by the same reasoning, exercise their
infinite power to render them all happy? Nevertheless, in despite of
these theologists, we scarcely find any one who is perfectly satisfied
with his condition on earth: for one mortal that enjoys, we behold
a thousand who suffer; for one rich man who lives in the midst of
abundance, there are thousands of poor who want common necessaries:
whole nations groan in indigence, to satisfy the passions of some
avaricious princes, of some few nobles, who are not thereby rendered
more contented--who do not acknowledge themselves more fortunate on
that account. In short, under the dominion of these beings, the earth
is drenched with the tears of the miserable. What must be the inference
from all this? That they are either negligent of, or incompetent to, his
happiness. But the mythologists will tell you coolly, that the judgments
of his gods are impenetrable! How do we understand this term? Not to be
taught--not to be informed--impervious--not to be pierced: in this case
it would be an unreasonable question to inquire by what authority do you
reason upon them? How do you become acquainted with these impenetrable
mysteries? Upon what foundation do you attribute virtues which you
cannot penetrate? What idea do you form to yourself of a justice that
never resembles that of man? Or is it a truth that you yourself are not
a man, but one of those impenetrable beings whom you say you represent?
To withdraw themselves from this, they will affirm that the justice of
these idols are tempered with mercy, with compassion, with goodness:
these again are human qualities: what, therefore, shall we understand by
them? What idea do we attach to mercy? Is it not a derogation from the
severe rules of an exact, a rigorous justice, which causes a
remission of some part of a merited punishment? Here hinges the great
incompatibility, the incongruity of those qualities, especially when
augmented by the word _omni_; which shews how little suitable human
properties are to the formation of divinities. In a prince, clemency is
either a violation of justice, or the exemption from a too severe law:
nevertheless, man approves of clemency in a sovereign, when its too
great facility does not become prejudicial to society; he esteems it,
because it announces humanity, mildness, a compassionate, noble soul;
qualities he prefers in his governors to rigour, cruelty, inflexibility:
besides, human laws are defective; they are frequently too severe; they
are not competent to foresee all the circumstances of every case: the
punishments they decree are not always commensurate with the offence:
he therefore does not always think them just: but he feels very well,
he understands distinctly, that when the sovereign extends his mercy, he
relaxes from his justice--that if mercy he merited, the punishment ought
not to take place--that then its exercise is no longer clemency, but
justice: thus he feels, that in his fellow creatures these two qualities
cannot exist at the same moment. How then is he to form his judgment of
beings who are represented to possess both in the extremest degree? Is
it not, in fact, announcing these beings to be men like ourselves, who
act with our imperfections on an enlarged scale?
They then say, well, but in the next world these idols will reward you
for all the evils you suffer in this: this, indeed, is something to
look to, if it could be contemplated alone; unmixed with all they have
formerly asserted: if we could also find that there was an unison of
thinking on this point--if there was a reasonable comprehensible view of
it held forth: but alas! here again human pleasures, human feelings, are
the basis on which these rewards are rested; only they are promised in a
way we cannot comprehend them; houris, or females who are to remain for
ever virgins, notwithstanding the knowledge of man, are so opposed to
all human comprehension, so opposite to all experience, are such mystic
assertions, that the human mind cannot possibly embrace an idea of
them: besides this is only promised by one class of these beings; others
affirm it will be altogether different: in short, the number of modes
in which this hereafter reward is promised to him, obliges man to ask
himself one plain question, Which is the real history of these blissful
abodes? At this question he staggers--he seeks for advice: each assures
him that the other is in error--that his peculiar mode is that which
will really have place; that to believe the other is a crime. How is
he to judge now? Take what course he will, he runs the chance of being
wrong; he has no standard whereby to measure the correctness of these
contradictory assurances; his mind is held suspended; he feels the
impossibility of the whole being right; he knows not that which he ought
to elect! Again, they have positively asserted these beings owe nothing
to man: how then is he to expect in a future life, a more real happiness
than he enjoys in the present? This they parry, by assuring him it
is founded upon their promises, contained in their revealed oracles.
Granted: but is he quite certain these oracles have emanated from
themselves? If they are so different in their detail, may there not
be reasonable ground for suspecting some of them are not authentic? If
there is, which are the spurious, which are the genuine? By what rule
is he to guide himself in the choice; how, with his frail methods
of judging, is he to scrutinize oracles delivered by such powerful
beings--to discriminate the true from the false? The ministers of each
will give you an infallible method, one that, is according to their
own asseveration, cannot err; that is, by an implicit belief in the
particular doctrine each promulgates.
Thus will be perceived the multitude of contradictions, the extravagant
hypotheses which these human attributes, with which theology clothes its
divinities, must necessarily produce. Beings embracing at one time so
many discordant qualities will always be undefinable--can only present a
train of ideas calculated to displace each other; they will consequently
ever remain beings of the imagination. These beings, say their
ministers, created the heavens, the earth, the creatures who inhabit
it, to manifest their own peculiar glory; they have neither rivals, nor
equals in nature; nothing which can be compared with them. Glory
is, again, a human passion: it is in man the desire of giving his
fellow-creatures an high opinion of him; this, passion is laudable when
it stimulates him to undertake great projects--when it determines him to
perform useful actions--but it is very frequently a weakness attached
to his nature; it is nothing more than a desire to be distinguished from
those beings with whom he compares himself, without exciting him to one
noble, one generous act. It is easy to perceive that beings who are so
much elevated above men, cannot be actuated by such a defective passion.
They say these beings are jealous of their prerogatives. Jealousy is
another human passion, not always of the most respectable kind: but it
is rather difficult to conceive the existence of jealousy with profound
wisdom, unlimited power, and the perfection of justice. Thus the
theologians by dint of heaping quality on quality, aggrandizing each as
is added, seem to have reduced themselves to the situation of a painter,
who spreading all his colours upon his canvas together, after thus
blending them into an unique mass, loses sight of the whole in the
composition.
They will, nevertheless, reply to these difficulties, that goodness,
wisdom, justice, are in these beings qualities so pre-eminent, so
distinct, have so little affinity with these same qualities in man, that
they are totally dissimilar--have not the least relation. Admit this
to be the case, How then can he form to himself any idea of these
perfections, seeing they are totally unlike those with which he is
acquainted? They surely cannot mean to insinuate that they are the
reverse of every thing he understands; because that would, in effect,
bring them to a precise point which would not need any explanation;
it is therefore a matter of certainty this cannot be the case: then if
these qualities, when exercised by the beings they have described, are
only human actions so obscured, so hidden, as not to be recognizable by
man, How can weak mortals pretend to announce them, to have a knowledge
of them, to explain them to others? Does then theology impart to the
mind the ineffable boon of enabling it to conceive that which no man is
competent to understand? Does it procure for its agents the marvellous
faculty of having distinct ideas of beings composed of so many
contradictory properties? Does it, in fact, make the theologian himself
one of these incomprehensible beings.
They will impose silence, by saying the oracles have spoken; that
through these mystical means they have made themselves known to mortals.
The next question would naturally be, When, where, or to whom have
these oracles spoken? Where are these oracles? An hundred voices raise
themselves in the same moment; hands of Briaraeus are immediately
stretched forth to shew them in a number of discordant collections,
which each maintains, with an equal degree of vehemence, is the true
code--the only doctrine man ought to believe: he runs them over, finds
they scarcely agree in any one particular; but that in all the heaviest
penalties are denounced against those who doubt the smallest part of
any one of them. These beings of consummate wisdom are made to speak an
obscure, irrational language; some of them, although their goodness
is proclaimed, have been cruel and sanguinary; others, although their
justice is held forth, have been partial, unjust, capricious; some, who
are represented as all merciful, destine to the most hideous punishments
the unhappy victims to their wrath: examine any one of them more
closely, he will find that they have never in any two countries held
literally the same language: that although they are said to have spoken
in many places, that they have always spoken variously: What is the
necessary result? The human mind, incapable of reconciling such manifest
contradictions, unable to obtain from their ministers any corroborative
evidence, that is not disputed by the others, falls into the strangest
perplexity; is involved in doubts, entangled in a labyrinth to which no
clue is to be found.
Thus the relations, which are supposed to exist between man and these
theological idols, can only be founded on the moral qualities of these
beings: if these are not known to him, if he cannot in any manner
comprehend them, they cannot by any ingenuity of argument serve him for
models. In order that they may be imitated, it is needful that these
qualities were cognizable by the being who is to imitate them. How
can he imitate that goodness, that justice, that mercy, which does not
resemble either his own, or any thing he can conceive? If these beings
partake in nothing of that which forms man--if the properties they
do possess, although different, are not within the reach of his
comprehension--if, he cannot embrace the most distant idea of them,
which the theologian assures him he cannot, How is it possible he
can set about imitating them? How follow a conduct suitable to please
them--to render himself acceptable in their sight? What can in effect
be the motive of that worship, of that homage, of that obedience, which
these beings are said to exact--which he is informed he should offer
at their altars, if he does not establish it upon their goodness--their
veracity--their justice: in short, upon qualities which he is competent
to understand? How can he have clear, distinct ideas of those qualities,
if they are no longer of the same nature as those which he has learned
to reverence in the beings of his own species?
To this they will reply, because none of them ever admit the least doubt
of the rectitude of their own individual creed, that there can be no
proportion between these idols and mortals, who are the work of their
hands; that it is not permitted to the clay to demand of the potter who
has formed it, "why ye have fashioned me thus;"--but if there can be
no common measure between the workman and his work--if there can be
no analogy between them, because the one is immaterial, the other
corporeal, How do they reciprocally act upon each other? How can the
gross organs of the one, comprehend the subtile quality of the other?
Reasoning in the only way he is capable, and it surely will never be
seriously argued that he is not to reason, will he not perceive that
the earthen vase could only have received the form which it pleased the
potter to give; that if it is formed badly, if it is rendered inadequate
to the use for which it was designed, the vase is not in this instance
to be blamed; the potter certainly has the power to break it; the vase
cannot prevent him; it will neither have motives nor means to soften his
anger; it will be obliged to submit to its destiny; but he will not
be able to prevent his mind from thinking the potter harsh in thus
punishing the vase, rather than by forming it anew, by giving it another
figure, render it competent to the purposes he intended.
According to these notions the relations between man and these
theological beings have no existence, they owe nothing to him, are
dispensed from shewing him either goodness or justice; that man, on
the contrary, owes them every thing: but contradictions appear at every
step. If these have promised by their oracles any thing to man, it is
rather difficult for him to believe, that what is so solemnly promised
does not belong to him if he fulfils the condition of the promise.
The difference a theologian may choose to find in these relations will
hardly be convincing to a reasonable mind. The duties of man towards
these beings can, according to their own shewing, have no other
foundation than the happiness he expects from them: thus the relation
has a reciprocity, it is founded upon their goodness, upon their
justice, it demands obedience on his part, a conduct suitable to the
benefits he receives. Thus, in whatever manner the theological system
is viewed, it destroys itself. Will theology never feel that the more
it endeavours to exaggerate the human qualities, the less it exalts the
beings it pictures; the more incomprehensible it renders them, the more
it contributes to swell its own ocean of contradictions; that to take
human passions, mortal faculties at all, is perhaps the worst means it
can pursue to form a perfect being; but that if it must persist in this
method, then the further they remove them from man, the more they debase
him, the more they weaken the relations subsisting between them: that
in thus aggregating human properties, it should carefully abstain from
associating in these pictures those qualities which man finds detestable
in his fellows. Thus, despotism in man is looked upon as an unjust,
unreasonable power; if it introduces such a quality into its portraits,
it cannot rationally suppose them suitable to cultivate the esteem, to
attract the voluntary homage of the human race: if, however, the canvas
be examined, we shall frequently be struck, with perceiving this the
leading feature; we shall equally find a want of keeping through the
whole; that shadows are introduced, where lights ought to prevail; that
the colouring is incongruous--the design without harmony.
The discrepancy of conduct which theology imputes to these idols, is not
less remarkable than the contrariety of qualities it ascribes to
them, or the inconsistency of the passions with which it invests them;
sometimes, according to this, they are the friends to reason, desirous
of the happiness of society; sometimes they are inimical to virtue;
interdict the use of reason; flattered with seeing society disturbed,
they sometimes afflict man without his being able to guess the cause of
their displeasure; sometimes they are favourable to mankind--at others,
indisposed towards the human species: sometimes they are represented as
permitting crimes for the pleasure of punishing them--at others, they
exert all their power to arrest crime in its birth; sometimes they elect
a small number to receive eternal happiness, predestinating the rest to
perpetual misery--to everlasting torments; at others, they throw open
the gates of mercy to all who choose to enter them; sometimes they are
pourtrayed as destroying the universe--at others, as establishing the
most beautiful order in the planet we inhabit; sometimes they are held
forth as countenancing deception--at others, as having the highest
reverence for truth--as holding deceit in abomination. This, again, is
the necessary result of the human faculties, the mortal passions, the
frail qualities of which they compose the beings they hold forth to the
admiration, to the worship, to the homage of the world.
Perhaps the most fatal consequences have arisen from founding the moral
character of these divinities upon that of man. Those who first had the
confidence to tell man that in these matters it was not permitted him
to consult his reason, that the interests of society demanded its
sacrifice, evidently proposed to themselves to make him the sport of
their own wantonness--to make him the blind instrument of their own
unworthiness. It is from this radical error that has sprung all those
extravagances which the various superstitions have introduced upon
the earth: from hence has flowed that sacred fury which has frequently
deluged it with blood: here is the cause of those inhuman persecutions
which have so often desolated nations: in short, all those horrid
tragedies which have been acted on the vast theatre of the world, by
command of the different ministers of the various systems, whose gods
they have said ordained these shocking spectacles.
The theologians themselves have thus been the means, of calumniating
the gods they pretended to serve, under the pretext of exalting their
name--of covering them with glory; in this they may have been said to be
true atheists, since they seem only to have been anxious to destroy the
idols they themselves had raised, by the actions they have attributed
to them--which has debased them in the eye of reason--rendered their
existence more than doubtful to the man of humanity. Indeed, it would
require more than human credulity to accredit the assertion that these
beings ever could order the atrocities committed in their name. Every
time they have been willing to disturb the harmony of mankind--whenever
they have been desirous to render him unsociable, they have cried out
that their gods ordained that he should be so. Thus they render mortals
uncertain, make the ethical system fluctuate by founding it upon
changeable, capricious idols, whom they represent much more frequently
cruel and unjust, than filled with bounty and benevolence.
However it may be, admitting if they will for a moment that their idols
possess all the human virtues in an infinite degree of perfection, we
shall quickly be obliged to acknowledge that they cannot connect them
with those metaphysical, theological, negative attributes, of which we
have already spoken. If these beings are spirits that are immaterial,
how can they be able to act like man, who is a corporeal being? Pure
spirits, according to the only idea man can form of them, having no
organs, no parts, cannot see any thing; can neither hear our prayers,
attend to our solicitations, nor have compassion for our miseries.
They cannot be immutable, if their dispositions can suffer change: they
cannot be infinite, if the totality of nature, without being them, can
exist conjointly with them: they cannot be omnipotent, if they either
permit or do not prevent evil: they cannot be omnipresent, if they are
not every where: they must therefore be in the evil as well as in the
good. Thus in whatever manner they are contemplated, under whatever
point of view they are considered, the human qualities which are
assigned to them, necessarily destroy each other; neither can these
same properties in any possible manner combine themselves with the
supernatural attributes given to them by theology.
With respect to the revealed will of these idols, by means of
their oracles, far from being a proof of their good will, of their
commisseration for man, it would rather seem evidence of their ill-will.
It supposes them capable of leaving mankind for a considerable season
unacquainted with truths highly important to their interests; these
oracles communicated to a small number of chosen men, are indicative of
partiality, of predilections, that are but little compatible with the
common Father of the human race. These oracles were ill imagined,
since they tend to injure the immutability ascribed to these idols, by
supposing that they permitted man to be ignorant at one time of their
will, whilst at another time they were willing he should be instructed
on the subject. Moreover, these oracles frequently predicted offences
for which afterwards severe punishments were inflicted on those who did
no more than fulfil them. This, according to the reasoning of man, would
be unjust. The ambiguous language in which they were delivered, the
almost impossibility of comprehending them, the inexplicable mysteries
they contained, seemed to render them doubtful; at least they are
not consistent with the ideas man is capable of forming of infinite
perfection: but the fact clearly is, they were thus rendered capable of
application to the contingency of events--could be made to suit
almost any circumstances: this would render it not a very improbable
conjecture, that these oracles were solely delivered by the priests
themselves. It these were tried by the only test of which he has any
knowledge--HIS REASON, it would naturally occur to the mind of man, that
mystery could never, on any occasion, be used in the promulgation of
substantive decrees meant to operate on the obedience, to actuate the
moral conduct of man: it is quite usual with most legislators to
render their laws as explicit as possible, to adapt them to the meanest
understanding; in short, it would be reckoned want of good faith in a
government, to throw a thick, mysterious veil over the announcement of
that conduct which it wished its citizens to adopt; they would be apt
to think such a procedure was either meant to cover its own peculiar
ignorance, or else to entrap them into a snare; at best, it would be
considered as furnishing a never-failing source of dispute, which a wise
government would endeavour to avoid.
It will thus be obvious, that the ideas which theology has at various
times, under various systems, held forth to man, have for the most part
been confused, discordant, incompatible, and have had a general tendency
to disturb the repose of mankind. The obscure notions, the vague
speculations of these multiplied creeds, would be matter of great
indifference, if man was not taught to hold them as highly important
to his welfare--if he did not draw from them conclusions pernicious to
himself--if he did not learn from these theologians that he must sharpen
his asperity against those who do not contemplate them in the same point
of view with himself: as he perhaps, then, will never have a common
standard, a fixed rule, a regular graduated scale, whereby to form
his judgment on these points--as all efforts of the imagination must
necessarily assume divers shapes, undergo a variety of modifications,
which can never be assimilated to each other, it was little likely that
mankind would at all times be able to understand each other on this
subject; much less that they would be in accord in the opinions they
should adopt. From hence that diversity of superstitions which in
all ages have given rise to the most irrational disputes; which
have engendered the most sanguinary wars; which have caused the most
barbarous massacres; which have divided man from his fellow by the most
rancorous animosities, that will perhaps never be healed; because he has
been impelled to consider the peculiar tenets he adopted, not only as
immediately essential to his individual welfare, but also as intimately
connected with the happiness, closely interwoven with the tranquillity
of the nation of which he was a citizen. That such contrariety of
sentiment, such discrepancy of opinion should exist, is not in the least
surprising; it is, in fact, the natural result of those physical causes
to which, as long as he exists, he is at all times submitted. The man
of a heated imagination cannot accommodate himself to the god of a
phlegmatic, tranquil being: the infirm, bilious, discontented, angry
mortal, cannot view him under the same aspect as he who enjoys a sounder
constitution,--as the individual of a gay turn, who enjoys the
blessing of content, who wishes to live in peace. An equitable, kind,
compassionate, tender-hearted man, will not delineate to himself
the same portrait of his god, as the man who is of an harsh, unjust,
inflexible, wicked character. Each individual will modify his god after
his own peculiar manner of existing, after his own mode of thinking,
according to his particular mode of feeling. A wise, honest, rational
man will always figure to himself his god as humane and just.
Nevertheless, as fear usually presided at the formation of those idols
man set up for the object of his worship; as the ideas of these beings
were generally associated with that of terror as the recollections
of sufferings, which he attributed to them, often made him tremble;
frequently awakened in his mind the most afflicting, reminiscence; as
it sometimes filled him with inquietude, sometimes inflamed his
imagination, sometimes overwhelmed him with dismay, the experience of
all ages proves, that these vague idols became the most important of all
considerations--was the affair which most seriously occupied the human
race: that they every where spread consternation--produced the most
frightful ravages, by the delirious inebriation resulting from the
opinions with which they intoxicated the mind. Indeed, it is extremely
difficult to prevent habitual fear, which of all human passions is the
most incommodious, from becoming a dangerous leaven; which in the long
run will sour, exasperate, and give malignancy to the most moderate
temperament.
If a misanthrope, in hatred of his race, had formed the project
of throwing man into the greatest perplexity,--if a tyrant, in the
plenitude of his unruly desire to punish, had sought out the most
efficacious means; could either the one or the other have imagined that
which was so well calculated to gratify their revenge, as thus to occupy
him unceasingly with objects not only unknown to him, but which no
two of them should ever see with precisely the same eyes; which
notwithstanding they should be obliged to contemplate as the centre of
all their thoughts--as the only model of their conduct--as the end of
all their actions--as the subject of all their research--as a thing of
more importance to them than life itself; upon which all their present
felicity, all their future happiness, must necessarily depend? Could the
gods themselves, in their solicitude to punish the impious Prometheus,
for having stolen fire from the sun, have imagined a more certain method
of executing their wishes? Was not Pandora's box, though stuffed with
evils, trifling when compared with this? That at least left hope, to the
unfortunate Epimetheus; this effectually cut it off.
If man was subjected to an absolute monarch, to a sultan who should keep
himself secluded from his subjects; who followed no rule but his own
desires; who did not feel himself bound by any duty; who could for ever
punish the offences committed against him; whose fury it was easy
to provoke; who was irritated even by the ideas, the thoughts of his
subjects; whose displeasure might be incurred without even their own
knowledge; the name of such a sovereign would assuredly be sufficient to
carry trouble, to spread terror, to diffuse consternation into the very
souls of those who should hear it pronounced; his idea would haunt them
every where--would unceasingly afflict them--would plunge them into
despair. What tortures would not their mind endure to discover this
formidable being, to ascertain the secret of pleasing him! What labour
would not their imagination bestow, to discover what mode of conduct
might be able to disarm his anger! What fears would assail them, lest
they might not have justly hit upon the means of assuaging his wrath!
What disputes would they not enter into upon the nature, the qualities
of a ruler, equally unknown to them all! What a variety of means would
not be adopted, to find favour in his eyes; to avert his chastisement!
Such is the history of the effects superstition has produced upon the
earth. Man has always been panic-struck, because the systems adopted
never enable him to form any correct opinion, any fixed ideas, upon
a subject so material to his happiness; because every thing conspired
either to give his ideas a fallacious turn, or else to keep his mind in
the most profound ignorance; when he was willing to set himself
right, when he was sedulous to examine the path which conducted to his
felicity, when he was desirous of probing opinions so consequential to
his peace, involving so much mystery, yet combining both his hopes
and his fears, he was forbidden to employ the only proper method,--HIS
REASON, guided by his experience; he was assured this would be an
offence the most indelible. If he asked, Wherefore his reason had then
been given him, since he was not to use it in matters of such high
behest? he was answered, those were mysteries of which none but the
initiated could be informed; that it sufficed for him to know, that
the reason which he seemed so highly to prize, which he held in so
much esteem, was his most dangerous enemy--his most inveterate, most
determined foe. Where can be the propriety of such an argument? Can it
really be that reason is dangerous? If so, the Turks are justified in
their predilection for madmen: but to proceed, he is told that he must
believe in the gods, not question the mission of their priests; in
short, that he had nothing to do with the laws they imposed, but to
obey them: when he then required that these laws might at least be
made comprehensible to him; that he might be placed in a capacity
to understand them; the old answer was returned, that they were
_mysteries_; he must not inquire into them. But where is the necessity
for mystery in points of such vast importance? He might, indeed,
from time to time consult these oracles, when he was able to make the
sacrifices demanded; he would then receive precepts for his conduct:
these were always, however, given in such vague, indeterminate terms,
that he had scarcely the chance of acting right. At different times the
same oracles delivered different opinions: thus he had nothing, steady;
nothing permanent, whereby to guide his steps; like a blind man left to
himself in the streets, he was obliged to grope his way at the peril of
his existence. This will serve to shew the urgent necessity there is
for truth to throw its radiant lustre on systems big with so much
importance; that are so calculated to corroborate the animosities,
to confirm the bitterness of soul, between those whom nature intended
should always act as brothers.
By the magical charms with which these idols were surrounded, the human
species has remained either as if it was benumbed, in a state of stupid
apathy, or else he has become furious with fanaticism: sometimes,
desponding with fear, man cringed like a slave who bends under the
scourge of an inexorable master, always ready to strike him; he trembled
under a yoke made too ponderous for his strength: he lived in continual
dread of a vengeance he was unceasingly striving to appease, without
ever knowing when he had succeeded: as he was always bathed in tears,
continually enveloped in misery--as he was never permitted to lose sight
of his fears--as he was continually exhorted to nourish his alarm, he
could neither labour for his own happiness nor contribute to that of
others; nothing could exhilirate him; he became the enemy of himself,
the persecutor of his fellow-creatures, because his felicity here below
was interdicted; he passed his time in heaving the most bitter sighs;
his reason being forbidden him, he fell into either a state of infancy
or delirium, which submitted him to authority; he was destined to this
servitude from the hour he quitted his mother's womb, until that in
which he was returned to his kindred dust; tyrannical opinion bound him
fast in her massive fetters; a prey to the terrors with which he was
inspired, he appeared to have come upon the earth for no other purpose
than to dream--with no other desire than to groan--with no other motives
than to sigh; his only view seemed to be to injure himself; to deprive
himself of every rational pleasure, to embitter his own existence; to
disturb the felicity of others. Thus, abject, slothful, irrational, he
frequently became wicked, under the idea of doing honour to his gods;
because they instilled into his mind that it was his duty to avenge
their cause, to sustain their honour, to propagate their worship.
Mortals were prostrate from race to race, before vain idols to which
fear had given birth in the bosom of ignorance, during the calamities of
the earth; they tremblingly adored phantoms which credulity had placed
in the recesses of their own brain, where they found a sanctuary which
time only served to strengthen; nothing could undeceive them; nothing
was competent to make them feel, it was themselves they adored--that
they bent the knee before their own work--that they terrified themselves
with the extravagant pictures they had themselves delineated; they
obstinately persisted in prostrating themselves, in perplexing
themselves, in trembling; they even made a crime of endeavouring to
dissipate their fears; they mistook the production of their own folly;
their conduct resembled that of children, who having disfigured their
own features, become afraid of themselves when a mirror reflects the
extravagance they have committed. These notions so afflicting for
themselves, so grievous to others, have their epoch from the calamities
of man; they will continue, perhaps augment, until their mind,
enlightened by discarded reason, illumined by truth, shall set in
their true colours these various systems; until reflection guided by
experience, shall attach no more importance to them, than is consistent
with the happiness of society; until man, bursting the chains of
superstition--recalling to mind the great end of his existence--taking
a rational view of that which surrounds him, shall no longer refuse to
contemplate nature under her true character; shall no longer persist in
refusing to acknowledge she contains within herself the cause of that
wonderful phenomena which strikes on the dazzled optics of man: until
thoroughly persuaded of the weakness of their claim to the homage of
mankind, he shall make one pious, simultaneous, mighty effort, and
_overthrow the altars of Moloch and his priests_.