Then a Pagan arose, and said: If we are to admit two gods, I do
not see what prevents us from worshipping a thousand. The Greeks
and Romans, who were superior to you, were polytheists. It will be
necessary some day to return to the admirable doctrine that peoples
the universe with genii and deities; it is assuredly the only
system which explains everything--the only one in which there is no
contradiction. If your wife betrays you, Venus is the cause of it.
If you are robbed, put the blame on Mercury. If you lose an arm or
a leg in battle, it was arranged by Mars. So much for the evil. In
regard to the good, not only do Apollo, Ceres, Pomona, Bacchus, and
Flora load you with presents, but occasionally the same Mars will rid
you of your enemies, the same Venus will find you mistresses, the
same Mercury may pour all your neighbours’ gold into your coffers,
provided your hand comes to the assistance of his wand.
It was much easier for these gods to agree in governing the universe
than it seems to be to this Manichæan to reconcile his Ormuzd, the
benevolent, and Ahriman, the malevolent, two mortal enemies, so as
to maintain both light and darkness. Many eyes see better than one.
Hence all the poets of antiquity are continually calling councils
of the gods. How can you suppose that one god is enough to see to
all the details of life on Saturn and all the business of the star
Capella? What! You imagine that everything on our globe, except
in the houses of the King of Prussia and the Pope Ganganelli, is
regulated by councils, and there is no council in heaven! There is no
better way of deciding things than by a majority of votes. The deity
always acts in the wisest way. The Theist seems to me, in comparison
with a Pagan, to be like a Prussian soldier entering the territory
of Venice; he is charmed with the excellence of the government. “The
king of this country,” he says, “must work from morning to night. I
greatly pity him.” “There is no king,” people reply; “we are governed
by a council.”
Here are the true principles of our ancient religion.
The great being known as Jehovah or Yaa among the Phœnicians, the
Jove of other Asiatic nations, the Jupiter of the Romans, the Zeus of
the Greeks, is the sovereign of gods and men.
_Deum sator atque hominum rex._
The master of the whole of nature, to whom nothing in the whole range
of being approaches.
_Cui nihil simile, nec secundum._
The animating spirit of the universe.
_Jovis omnia plena._
All the ideas that one may have of God are enfolded in this fine
verse of the ancient Orpheus, quoted throughout antiquity, and
repeated in all the mysteries.
εἶς ἔστ’, αὐτογενὴς, ἑνὸς ἔkγονα πάντα τέτέυκται.
“He is One, self-born, and all was born of One.”
But he confides to the subordinate gods the care of the stars, the
elements, the seas, and the bowels of the earth. His wife, who
represents the expanse of space that he fills, is Juno. His daughter,
who is eternal wisdom, his word, is Minerva. His other daughter,
Venus, is the lover of the poetical generation. She is the mother of
love, inflaming all sensitive beings, uniting them, reproducing by
the attraction of pleasure all that necessity devotes to death. All
the gods have made presents to mortals. Ceres has given them corn,
Bacchus the vine, Pomona fruit; Apollo and Mercury have taught them
the arts.
The great Zeus, the great Demiourgos, had made the planets and the
earth. He had brought men and animals into existence on our planet.
The first man was, according to the account of Berosus, Alora, father
of Sares, grandfather of Alaspara, who begot Amenon, of whom was born
Metalare, who was the father of Daon, father of Everodao, father of
Amphis, father of Osiarte, father of the famous Sixutros or Xixutrus,
King of Chaldæa, under whom occurred the well-known deluge, which the
Greeks called “the deluge of Ogyges”; a flood of which the precise
date is still uncertain, as is that of the other great inundation,
which swallowed up the isle of Atlantis and part of Greece about six
thousand years ago.
We have another theogony in Sanchoniathon, without a deluge. Those of
the Hindoos, Chinese, and Egyptians are very different again.
All events of antiquity are lost in a dark night; but the existence
and blessings of Jupiter are clearer than the light of the sun. The
hero who, stirred by his example, did good to men was known by the
holy name of Dionysos, son of God. Bacchus, Hercules, Perseus, and
Romulus also received this divine name. Some went so far even as to
say that the divine virtue was communicated to their mothers. The
Greeks and Romans, although they were somewhat debauched, as are
to-day all Christians of a sociable nature, rather drunken, like the
canons of Germany, and given to unnatural vices, like the French
king Henry III. and his Nogaret, were very religious. They offered
sacrifice and incense, walked in processions, and fasted.
But everything becomes corrupt in time. Religion changed. The
splendid name of Son of God--that is to say, just and benevolent--was
afterwards given to the most unjust and cruel of men, because they
were powerful. The ancient piety, which was humane, was displaced by
superstition, which is always cruel. Virtue had dwelt on the earth as
long as the fathers of families were the only priests, and offered to
Jupiter and the immortal gods the first of their fruits and flowers;
but all this was changed when the priests began to shed blood and
wanted to share with the gods. They did share in truth; they took the
offerings, and left the smoke to the gods. You know how our enemies
succeeded in crushing us, adopting our earlier morals, rejecting our
bloody sacrifices, calling men to the Church, making a party for
themselves among the poor until such time as they should capture the
rich. They took our place. We are annihilated, they triumph; but,
corrupted at length like ourselves, they need a great reform, which I
wish them with all my heart.