PRODUCTION NOTES: First published in French in 1770 under thepseudonym of Mirabaud. This e-book based on a facsimile reprintof an English translation originally published 1820-21. This e-text covers the second of the original two volumes. 

THESYSTEM OF NATURE;

or, _THE LAWS_of theMORAL AND PHYSICAL WORLD. 

TRANSLATEDFROM THE ORIGINAL FRENCH OFM. DE MIRABAUD

VOL. II. 

CONTENTS

 PART II. Of the Divinity. --Proofs of his existence. -- Of his attributes. --Of his influence over the happiness of man. 

CHAP. I. The origin of man's ideas upon the Divinity. 

CHAP. II. Of mythology. --Of theology

CHAP. III. Of the confused and contradictory ideas of theology. 

CHAP. IV. Examination of the proofs of the existence of the Divinity, as given by Clarke. 

CHAP. V. Examination of the proofs offered by Descartes, Malebranche, Newton, &c. 

CHAP. VI. Of Pantheism; or of the natural ideas of the Divinity. 

CHAP. VII. Of Theism--Of the System of Optimism--Of Final Causes

CHAP. VIII. Examination of the Advantages which result from Man'sNotions on the Divinity;--of their Influence upon Morals;--uponPolitics;--upon Science;--upon the Happiness of Nations, and thatof individuals. 

CHAP. IX. Theological Notions cannot be the Basis of Morality. --Comparison between Theological Ethics and Natural Morality--Theology prejudicial to the Human Mind. 

CHAP. X. Man can form no Conclusion from the Ideas which are offeredhim of the Divinity. --Of their want of just Inference. --Of the Inutilityof his Conduct. 

CHAP. XI Defence of the Sentiments contained in this Work. --Of Impiety. --Do there exist Atheists?

CHAP. XII. Is what is termed Atheism, compatible with Morality?

CHAP. XIII. Of the motives which lead to what is falsely called Atheism. --Can this System be dangerous?--Can it be embraced by the Illiterate?

CHAP. XIV. A summary of the Code of Nature. 

A Brief Sketch of the Life and Writings of M. De Mirabaud

MIRABAUD'SSYSTEM OF NATURE

Translated from the OriginalBY SAMUEL WILKINSON

 PART II. 

 ON THE DIVINITY:--PROOFS OF HIS EXISTENCE:--OF HIS ATTRIBUTES: OF HIS INFLUENCE OVER THE HAPPINESS OF MAN. 

CHAP. I. 

_The Origin of Man's Ideas upon the Divinity. _

If man possessed the courage, if he had the requisite industry to recurto the source of those opinions which are most deeply engraven on hisbrain; if he rendered to himself a faithful account of the reasons whichmake him hold these opinions as sacred; if he coolly examined the basisof his hopes, the foundation of his fears, he would find that it veryfrequently happens, those objects, or those ideas which move him mostpowerfully, either have no real existence, or are words devoid ofmeaning, which terror has conjured up to explain some sudden disaster;that they are often phantoms engendered by a disordered imagination, modified by ignorance; the effect of an ardent mind distracted bycontending passions, which prevent him from either reasoning justly, orconsulting experience in his judgment; that this mind often labours witha precipitancy that throws his intellectual faculties into confusion;that bewilders his ideas; that consequently he gives a substance and aform to chimeras, to airy nothings, which he afterwards idolizes fromsloth, reverences from prejudice. 

A sensible being placed in a nature where every part is in motion, hasvarious feelings, in consequence of either the agreeable or disagreeableeffects which he is obliged to experience from this continued action andre-action; in consequence he either finds himself happy or miserable;according to the quality of the sensations excited in him, he will loveor fear, seek after or fly from, the real or supposed causes of suchmarked effects operated on his machine. But if he is ignorant of nature, if he is destitute of experience, he will frequently deceive himself asto these causes; for want of either capability or inclination to recurback to them, he will neither have a true knowledge of their energy, nora clear idea of their mode of acting: thus until reiterated experienceshall have formed his ideas, until the mirror of truth shall have shewnhim the judgment he ought to make, he will be involved in trouble, aprey to incertitude, a victim to credulity. 

Man is a being who brings with him nothing into the world save anaptitude to feeling in a manner more or less lively according to hisindividual organization: he has no innate knowledge of any of the causesthat act upon him: by degrees his faculty of feeling discovers to himtheir various qualities; he learns to judge of them; time familiarizeshim with their properties; he attaches ideas to them, according to themanner in which they have affected him; these ideas are correct orotherwise, in a ratio to the soundness of his organic structure: hisjudgment is faulty or not, as these organs are either well or ill-constituted; in proportion as they are competent to afford him sure andreiterated experience. 

The first moments of man are marked by his wants; that is to say, thefirst impulse he receives is to conserve his existence; this he wouldnot be able to maintain without the concurrence of many analogouscauses: these wants in a sensible being, manifest themselves by ageneral languor, a sinking, a confusion in his machine, which gives himthe consciousness of a painful sensation: this derangement subsists, iseven augmented, until the cause suitable to remove it re-establishes theharmony so necessary to the existence of the human frame. Want, therefore, is the first evil man experiences; nevertheless it isrequisite to the maintenance of his existence. Was it not for thisderangement of his body, which obliges him to furnish its remedy, hewould not be warned of the necessity of preserving the existence he hasreceived. Without wants man would be an insensible machine, similar to avegetable; like that he would be incapable of preserving himself; hewould not be competent to using the means required to conserve hisbeing. To his wants are to be ascribed his passions; his desires; theexercise of his corporeal functions; the play of his intellectualfaculties: they are his wants that oblige him to think; that determinehis will, that induce him to act; it is to satisfy them or rather to putan end to the painful sensations excited by their presence, thataccording to his capacity, to the natural sensibility of his soul, tothe energies which are peculiar to himself, he gives play to hisfaculties, exerts the activity of his bodily strength, or displays theextensive powers of his mind. His wants being perpetual, he is obligedto labour without relaxation, to procure objects competent to satisfythem. In a word, it is owing to his multiplied wants that man's energyis kept in a state of continual activity: as soon as he ceases to havewants, he falls into inaction--becomes listless--declines into apathy--sinks into a languor that is incommodious to his feelings or prejudicialto his existence: this lethargic state of weariness lasts until newwants, by giving him fresh activity, rouse his dormant faculties--throwoff his stupor--re-animate his vigour, and destroy the sluggishness towhich he had become a prey. 

From hence it will be obvious that evil is necessary to man; without ithe would neither be in a condition to know that which injures him; toavoid its presence; or to seek his own welfare: without this stimulus, he would differ in nothing from insensible, unorganized beings: if thoseevanescent evils which he calls _wants_, did not oblige him to callforth his faculties, to set his energies in motion, to cull experience, to compare objects, to discriminate them, to separate those which havethe capabilities to injure him, from those which possess the means tobenefit him, he would be insensible to happiness--inadequate toenjoyment. In short, _without evil man would be ignorant of good_; hewould be continually exposed to perish like the leaf on a tree. He wouldresemble an infant, who, destitute of experience, runs the risque ofmeeting his destruction at every step he takes, unguarded by his nurse. What the nurse is to the child, experience is to the adult; when eitherare wanting, these children of different lustres generally go astray:frequently encounter disaster. Without evil he would be unable to judgeof any thing; he would have no preference; his will would be withoutvolition, he would be destitute of passions; desire would find no placein his heart; he would not revolt at the most disgusting objects; hewould not strive to put them away; he would neither have stimuli tolove, nor motives to fear any thing; he would be an insensibleautomaton; he would no longer be a man. 

If no evil had existed in this world, man would never have dreamt ofthose numerous divinities, to whom he has rendered such various modes ofworship. If nature had permitted him easily to satisfy all hisregenerating wants, if she had given him none but agreeable sensations, his days would have uninterruptedly rolled on in one perpetualuniformity; he would never have discovered his own nakedness; he wouldnever have had motives to search after the unknown causes of things--tomeditate in pain. Therefore man, always contented, would only haveoccupied himself with satisfying his wants; with enjoying the present, with feeling the influence of objects, that would unceasingly warn himof his existence in a mode that he must necessarily approve; nothingwould alarm his heart; every thing would be analogous to his existence:he would neither know fear, experience distrust, nor have inquietude forthe future: these feelings can only be the consequence of sometroublesome sensation, which must have anteriorly affected him, or whichby disturbing the harmony of his machine, has interrupted the course ofhis happiness; which has shewn him he is naked. 

Independent of those wants which in man renew themselves every instant;which he frequently finds it impossible to satisfy; every individualexperiences a multiplicity of evils--he suffers from the inclemency ofthe seasons--he pines in penury--he is infected with plague--he isscourged by war--he is the victim of famine--he is afflicted withdisease--he is the sport of a thousand accidents, &c. This is the reasonwhy all men are fearful; why the whole human race are diffident. Theknowledge he has of pain alarms him upon all unknown causes, that is tosay, upon all those of which he has not yet experienced the effect; thisexperience made with precipitation, or if it be preferred, by instinct, places him on his guard against all those objects from the operation ofwhich he is ignorant what consequences may result to himself. 

His inquietude is in proportion; his fears keep pace with the extent ofthe disorder which these objects produce in him; they are measured bytheir rarity, that is to say, by the inexperience he has of them; by thenatural sensibility of the soul; and by the ardour of his imagination. The wore ignorant man is, the less experience he has, the more he issusceptible of fear; solitude, the obscurity of a forest, silence, andthe darkness of night, desolate ruins, the roaring of the wind, sudden, confused noises, are objects of terror to all who are unaccustomed tothese things. The uninformed man is a child whom every thing astonishes;who trembles at every thing he encounters: his alarms disappear, hisfears diminish, his mind becomes calm, in proportion as experiencefamiliarizes him, more or less, with natural effects; his fears ceaseentirely, as soon as he understands, or believes he understands, thecauses that act; or when he knows how to avoid their effects. But if hecannot penetrate the causes which disturb him, if he cannot discover theagents by whom he suffers, if he cannot find to what account to placethe confusion he experiences, his inquietude augments; his fearsredouble; his imagination leads him astray; it exaggerates his evil;paints in a disorderly manner these unknown objects of his terror;magnifies their powers; then making an analogy between them and thoseterrific objects, with whom he is already acquainted, he suggests tohimself the means he usually takes to mitigate their anger; toconciliate their kindness; he employs similar measures to soften theanger, to disarm the power, to avert the effects of the concealed causewhich gives birth to his inquietudes, which fills him with anxiety, which alarms his fears. It is thus his weakness, aided by ignorance, renders him superstitious. 

There are very few men, even in our own day, who have sufficientlystudied nature, who are fully apprised of physical causes, or with theeffects they must necessarily produce. This ignorance, without doubt, was much greater in the more remote ages of the world, when the humanmind, yet in its infancy, had not collected that experience, taken thatexpansion, made those strides towards improvement, which distinguishesthe present from the past. Savages dispersed, erratic, thinly scatteredup and down, knew the course of nature either very imperfectly or not atall; society alone perfects human knowledge: it requires not onlymultiplied but combined efforts to unravel the secrets of nature. Thisgranted, all natural causes were mysteries to our wandering ancestors;the entire of nature was an enigma to them; all its phenomena wasmarvellous, every event inspired terror to beings who were destitute ofexperience; almost every thing, they saw must have appeared to themstrange, unusual, contrary to their idea of the order of things. 

It cannot then furnish matter for surprise, if we behold men in thepresent day trembling at the sight of those objects which have formerlyfilled their fathers with dismay. _Eclipse, comets, meteors_, were, inancient days, subjects of alarm to all the people of the earth: theseeffects, so natural in the eyes of the sound philosopher, who has bydegrees fathomed their true causes, have yet the right, possess thepower, to alarm the most numerous, to excite the fears of the leastinstructed part of modern nations. The people of the present day, aswell as their ignorant ancestors, find something marvellous, believethere is a supernatural agency in all those objects to which their eyesare unaccustomed; they consider all those unknown causes as wonderful, that act with a force of which their mind has no idea it is possible theknown agents are capable. The ignorant see wonders _prodigies, miracles_, in all those striking effects of which they are unable torender themselves a satisfactory account; all the causes which producethem they think _supernatural_; this, however, really implies nothingmore than that they are not familiar to them, or that they have nothitherto witnessed natural agents, whose energy was equal to theproduction of effects so rare, so astonishing, as those with which theirsight has been appalled. 

Besides the ordinary phenomena to which nations were witnesses withoutbeing competent to unravel the causes, they have in times very remotefrom ours, experienced calamities, whether general or local, whichfilled them with the most cruel inquietude; which plunged them into anabyss of consternation. The traditions of all people, the annals of allnations, recal, even at this day, melancholy events, physical disasters, dreadful catastrophes, which had the effect of spreading universalterror among our forefathers, But when history should he silent on thesestupendous revolutions, would not our own reflection on what passesunder our eyes be sufficient to convince us, that all parts of our globehave been, and following the course of things, will necessarily be againviolently agitated, overturned, changed, overflowed, in a state ofconflagration? Vast continents have been inundated, seas breaking theirlimits have usurped the dominion of the earth; at length retiring, thesewaters have left striking, proofs of their presence, by the marinevestiges of shells, skeletons of sea fish, &c. Which the attentiveobserver meets with at every step, in the bowels of those fertilecountries we now inhabit--subterraneous fires have opened to themselvesthe most frightful volcanoes, whose craters frequently issue destructionon every side. In short, the elements unloosed, have at various times, disputed among themselves the empire of our globe; this exhibitsevidence of the fact, by those vast heaps of wreck, those stupendousruins spread over its surface. What, then, must have been the fears ofmankind, who in those countries believed he beheld the entire of naturearmed against his peace, menacing with destruction his very abode? Whatmust have been the inquietude of a people taken thus unprovided, whofancied they saw nature cruelly labouring to their annihilation? Whobeheld a world ready to be dashed into atoms; who witnessed the earthsuddenly rent asunder; whose yawning chasm was the grave of largecities, whole provinces, entire nations? What ideas must mortals, thusoverwhelmed with terror, form to themselves of the irresistible causethat could produce such extended effects? Without doubt they did notattribute these wide spreading calamities to nature; neither did theyconceive they were mere physical causes; they could not suspect she wasthe author, the accomplice of the confusion she herself experienced;they did not see that these tremendous revolutions, these overpoweringdisorders, were the necessary result of her immutable laws; that theycontributed to the general order by which she subsists; that, in pointof fact, there was nothing more surprising in the inundation of largeportions of the earth, in the swallowing up an entire nation, in avolcanic conflagration spreading destruction over whole provinces, thanthere is in a stone falling to the earth, or the death of a fly; thateach equally has its spring in the necessity of things. 

It was under these astounding circumstances, that nations, bathed in themost bitter tears, perplexed with the most frightful visions, electrified with terror, not believing there existed on this mundaneball, causes sufficiently powerful to operate the gigantic phenomenathat filled their minds with dismay, carried their streaming eyestowards heaven, where their tremulous fears led them to suppose theseunknown agents, whose unprovoked enmity destroyed, their earthlyfelicity, could alone reside. 

It was in the lap of ignorance, in the season of alarm, in the bosom ofcalamity, that mankind ever formed his first notions of the _Divinity_. From hence it is obvious that his ideas on this subject are to besuspected, that his notions are in a great measure false, that they arealways afflicting. Indeed, upon whatever part of our sphere we cast oureyes, whether it be upon the frozen climates of the north, upon theparching regions of the south, or under the more temperate zones, weevery where behold the people when assailed by misfortunes, have eithermade to themselves national gods, or else have adopted those which havebeen given them by their conquerors; before these beings, either oftheir own creation or adoption, they have tremblingly prostratedthemselves in the hour of calamity, soliciting relief; have ignorantlyattributed to blocks of stone, or to men like themselves, those naturaleffects which were above their comprehension; the inhabitants of manynations, not contented with the national gods, made each to himself oneor more gods, which he supposed presided exclusively over his ownhousehold, from whom he supposed he derived his own peculiar happiness, to whom he attributed all his domestic misfortunes. The idea of thesepowerful agents, these supposed distributors of good and evil, wasalways associated with that of terror; their name was never pronouncedwithout recalling to man's wind either his own particular calamities orthose of his fathers. In many places man trembles at this day, becausehis progenitors have trembled for thousands of years past. The thoughtof his gods always awakened in man the most afflicting ideas. If herecurred to the source of his actual fears, to the commencement of thosemelancholy impressions that stamp themselves in his mind when their nameis announced, he would find it in the conflagrations, in therevolutions, in those extended disasters, that have at various timesdestroyed large portions of the human race; that overwhelmed with dismaythose miserable beings who escaped the destruction of the earth; thesein transmitting to posterity, the tradition of such afflicting events, have also transmitted to him their fears; have delivered down to theirsuccessors, those gloomy ideas which their bewildered imaginations, coupled with their barbarous ignorance of natural causes, had formed tothem of the anger of their irritated gods, to which their alarm falselyattributed these sweeping disasters. 

If the gods of nations had their birth in the bosom of alarm, it wasagain in that of despair that each individual formed the unknown powerthat he made exclusively for himself. Ignorant of physical causes, unpractised in their mode of action, unaccustomed to their effects, whenever he experienced any serious misfortune, whenever he wasafflicted with any grievous sensation, he was at a loss how to accountfor it; he therefore attributed it to his household gods, to whom hemade an immediate supplication for assistance, or rather for forbearanceof further affliction: this disposition in man has been finelypourtrayed by Aesop in his fable of "the Waggoner and Hercules. " Themotion which in despight of himself was excited in his machine, hisdiseases, his troubles, his passions, his inquietude, the painfulalterations his frame underwent, without his being able to fathom thetrue causes; at length death, of which the aspect in so formidable to abeing strongly attached to existence, were effects he looked upon eitheras supernatural, or else he conceived they were repugnant to his actualnature; he attributed them to some mighty cause, which maugre all hisefforts, disposed of him at each, moment. Thus palsied with alarm, benumbed with terror, he pensively meditated upon his sorrows; agitatedwith fear, he sought for means to avert the calamities that threatenedhim with destruction; his imagination, thus rendered desperate by hisendurance of evils which he found inevitable, formed to him thosephantoms which he called gods; before whom he trembled from aconsciousness of his own weakness; thus disposed, he endeavoured byprostration, by sacrifices, by prayers, to disarm the anger of theseimaginary beings to which his trepidation had given birth; whom heignorantly imagined to be the cause of his misery, whom his fancypainted to him as endowed with the power of alleviating his sufferings:it was thus in the extremity of his grief, in the exacerbation of hismind, weighed down with misfortune, that unhappy man fashioned thosechimeras which filled him with the most gloomy ideas, which hetransmitted to his posterity, as the surest means of avoiding the evilsto which he had been himself subjected. 

Man never judges of those objects of which he is ignorant, but throughthe medium of those which come within his knowledge: thus man, takinghimself for the model, ascribed will, intelligence, design, projects, passions; in a word, qualities analogous to his own, to all thoseunknown causes of which he experienced the action. As soon as a visibleor supposed cause affects him in an agreeable manner, or in a modefavourable to his existence, he concludes it to be good, to be wellintentioned towards him: on the contrary, he judges all those to be badin their nature, evilly disposed, to have the intention of injuring him, which cause him any painful sensations. He attributes views, plans, asystem of conduct like his own, to every thing which to his limitedideas appears of itself to produce connected effects; to act withregularity; to constantly operate in the same manner; that uniformlyproduces the same sensations in his own person. According to thesenotions, which he always borrows from himself, from his own peculiarmode of action, he either loves or fears those objects which haveaffected him; he in consequence approaches them with confidence ortimidity; seeks after them or flies from them in proportion as thefeelings they have excited are either pleasant or painful. Havingtravelled thus far, he presently addresses them; he invokes their aid;prays to them for succour; conjures them to cease his afflictions; toforbear tormenting him; as he finds himself sensible to presents, pleased with submission, he tries to win them to his interests byhumiliation, by sacrifices; he exercises towards them the hospitality hehimself loves; he gives them an asylum; he builds them a dwelling; hefurnishes them with costly raiment; he makes their altars smoke withdelicious food; he proffers to their acceptance the earliest flowers ofspring; the finest fruits of autumn; the rich grain of summer; in shorthe sets before them all those things which he thinks will please themthe most, because he himself places the highest value on them. Thesedispositions enable us to account for the formation of tutelary gods, oflares, of larvae, which every man makes to himself in savage andunpolished nations. Thus we perceive that weak superstitious mortals, ignorant of truth, devoid of experience, regard as the arbiters of theirfate, as the dispensers of good and evil, animals, stones, unformedinanimate substances, which the effort of their heated imaginationstransform into gods, whom they invest with intelligence, whom theyclothe with desires, to whom they give volition. 

Another disposition which serves to deceive the savage man, which willequally deceive those whom reason shall not enlighten on these subjects, is his attachment to omens; or the fortuitous concurrence of certaineffects, with causes which have not produced them; the co-existence ofthese effects with certain causes, which have not the slightestconnection with them, has frequently led astray very intelligent beings;nations who considered themselves very enlightened; who have either beendisinclined or unable to disentangle the one from the other: thus thesavage attributes bounty or the will to render him service, to anyobject whether animate or inanimate, such as a stone of a certain form, a rock, a mountain, a tree, a serpent, an owl, &c. If every time heencounters these objects in a certain position, it should so happen thathe is more than ordinarily successful in hunting, that he should take anunusual quantity of fish, that he should be victorious in war, or thathe should compass any enterprize whatever that he may at that momentundertake: the same savage will be quite as gratuitous in attachingmalice, wickedness, the determination to injure him, to either the sameobject in a different position, or any others in a given posture, whichway have met his eyes on those days when he shall have suffered somegrievous accident, have been very unsuccessful in his undertakings, unfortunate in the chace, disappointed in his draught of fish: incapableof reasoning he connects these effects with causes, that reflectionwould convince him have nothing in common with each other; that areentirely due to physical causes, to necessary circumstances, over whichneither himself nor his omens have the least controul: nevertheless hefinds it much easier to attribute them to these imaginary causes; hetherefore _deifies_ them; looks upon them as either his guardian angels, or else as his most inveterate enemies. Having invested them withsupernatural powers, he becomes anxious to explain to himself their modeof action; his self-love prevents his seeking elsewhere for the model:thus he assigns them all those motives that actuate himself; he endowsthem with passions; he gives them design--intelligence--will--imaginesthey can either injure him or benefit him, as be may render thempropitious or otherwise to his views: he ends with worshipping them;with paying them divine honours; he appoints them priests; or at leastalways consults them before he undertakes any object of moment: such istheir influence, that if they put on the evil position, he will layaside the most important undertaking. The savage in this is never morethan an infant, that is angry with the object that displeases him; justlike the dog who gnaws the stone by which he has been wounded, withoutrecurring to the hand by which it was thrown. 

Such is the foundation of man's faith, in either happy or unhappy omens:devoid of experience, unaccustomed to reason with precision, fearing tocall in the evidence of truth, he looks upon them either as godsthemselves, or else as warnings given him by his other gods, to whom heattributes the faculties of sagacity and foresight, of which he ishimself miserably deficient. Ignorance, when involved in disaster, whenimmersed in trouble, believes a stone, a reptile, a bird, much betterinstructed than himself. The slender observation of the ignorant onlyserves to render him more superstitious; he sees certain birds announceby their flight, by their cries, certain changes in the weather, such ascold, heat, rain, storms; he beholds at certain periods, vapours arisefrom the bottom of some particular caverns? there needs nothing furtherto impress upon him the belief, that these beings possess the knowledgeof future events; enjoy the gifts of prophecy: he looks upon them assupernatural agents, employed by his gods: it is thus he becomes thedupe to his own credulity. 

If by degrees the truth flashing occasionally on his mind, experienceand reflection arrive at undeceiving him, with respect to the power, theintelligence, the virtues actually residing in these objects; he atleast supposes them put in activity by some secret, some hidden cause;that they are the instruments, employed by some invisible agent, who iseither friendly or inimical to his welfare. To this concealed agent, therefore, he addresses himself; pays him his vows; emplores hisassistance; deprecates his wrath; seeks to propitiate him to hisinterests; is willing to soften his anger; for this purpose he employsthe same means, of which he avails himself, either to appease or gainover the beings of his own species. 

Societies in their origin, seeing themselves frequently afflicted bynature, supposed either the elements, or the concealed powers whoregulated them, possessed a will, views, wants, desires, similar totheir own. From hence, the sacrifices imagined to nourish them; thelibations poured out to them; the steams, the incense to gratify theirolfactory nerves. Their superstition led them to believe these elementsor their irritated movers were to be appeased like irritated man, byprayers, by humiliation, by presents. Their imagination was ransacked todiscover the presents that would be most acceptable in their eyes; toascertain the oblations that would be most agreeable, the sacrificesthat would most surely propitiate their kindness: as these did not makeknown their inclinations, man differed with his fellow on those mostsuitable; each followed his own disposition; or rather each offered whatwas most estimable in his own eyes; hence arose differences never to bereconciled the bitterest animosities; the most unconquerable aversions;the most, destructive jealousies! Thus some brought the fruits of theearth, others offered sheaves of corn: some strewed flowers over theirfanes; some decorated them with the most costly jewels; some served themwith meats; others sacrificed lambs, heifers, bulls; at length such wastheir delirium, such the wildness of their imaginations, that theystained their altars with human gore, made oblations of young childrenimmolated virgins, to appease the anger of these supposed deities. 

The old men, as having the most experience, were usually charged withthe conduct of these peace-offerings, from whence, the name PRIEST;[Greek letters], _presbos_, in the Greek meaning an old man. Theseaccompanied them with ceremonies, instituted rites, used precautions byconsulting omens; adopted formalities, retraced to their fellow citizensthe notions transmitted to them by their forefathers; collected theobservations made by their ancestors; repeated the fables they hadreceived; added commentaries of their own; subjoined supplications tothe idols at whose shrine they were sacrificing. It is thus thesacerdotal order was established; thus that public worship wasestablished; by degrees each community formed a body of tenets to beobserved by the citizens; these were transmitted from race to race; heldsacred out of reverence for their fathers; at length it was deemedsacrilege to doubt these pandects in any one particular; even theerrors, that had crept into them with time, were beheld with reverentialawe; he that ventured to reason upon them, was looked upon as an enemyto the commonwealth; as one whose impiety drew down upon them thevengeance of these adored beings, to which alone imagination had givenbirth; not contented with adopting the rituals, with following theceremonies invented by themselves, one community waged war againstanother, to oblige it to receive their particular creeds; which the oldmen who regulated them, declared would infallibly win them the favor oftheir tutelary deities: thus very often to conciliate their favor, thevictorious party immolated on the altars of their gods, the bodies oftheir unhappy captives; frequently they carried their savage barbaritythe length of exterminating whole nations, who happened to worship godsdifferent from their own: thus it frequently happened, that the friendsof the serpent, when victorious, covered his altars with the mangledcarcases of the worshippers of the stone, whom the fortune of war hadplaced in their hands: such were the unformed, the precarious elementsof which rude nations every where availed themselves to compose theirsuperstitions: they were always a system of conduct invented byimagination: conceived in ignorance, organized in misfortune, to renderthe unknown powers, to whom they believed nature was submitted, eitherfavorable to their views, or to, induce them to cease those afflictions, which natural causes, for the wisest purposes, were continually heapingupon them; thus some irascible, at the same time placable being, wasalways chosen for the basis of the adopted superstition; it was uponthese puerile tenets, upon these absurd notions, that the old men or thepriests rested their doctrines; founded their rights; established theirauthority: it was to render these fanciful beings friendly to the raceof man, that they erected, temples, raised altars, loaded them withwealth; in short, it was from such rude foundations, that arose themagnificent structure of superstition; under which man trembled forthousands of years: which governed the condition of society, whichdetermined the actions of the people, gave the tone to the character, deluged the earth with blood, for such a long series of ages. Butalthough these superstitions were originally invented by savages, theystill have the power of regulating the fate of many civilized nations, who are not less tenacious of their chimeras, than their rudeprogenitors. These systems, so ruinous in their principles, have beenvariously modified by the human mind, of which it is the essence, tolabour incessantly on unknown objects; it always, commences by attachingto these, a very first-rate importance, which it afterwards never darescoolly to examine. 

Such was the course of man's imagination, in the successive ideas whichhe either formed to himself, or which he received from his fathers, uponthe divinity. The first theology of man was grounded on fear, modelledby ignorance: either afflicted or benefitted by the elements, he adoredthese elements themselves; by a parity of reasoning, if reasoning it canbe called, he extended his reverence to every material, coarse object;he afterwards rendered his homage to the agents he supposed presidingover these elements; to powerful genii; to inferior genii; to heroes; tomen endowed with either great or striking qualities. Time, aided byreflection, with here and there a slight corruscation of truth, inducedhim in some places to relinquish his original ideas; he believed hesimplified the thing by lessening the number of his gods, but heachieved nothing by this towards attaining to the truth; in recurringfrom cause to cause man finished by losing sight of every thing; in thisobscurity, in this dark abyss, his mind still laboured, he formed newchimeras, he made new gods, or rather he formed a very complexmachinery; still, as before, whenever he could not account for anyphenomenon that struck his sight, he was unwilling to ascribe it tophysical causes; and the name of his Divinity, whatever that mighthappen to be, was always brought in to supply his own ignorance ofnatural causes. 

If a faithful account was rendered of man's ideas upon the Divinity, hewould be obliged to acknowledge, that for the most part the word _Gods_has been used to express the concealed, remote, unknown causes of theeffects he witnessed; that he applies this term when the spring ofnatural, the source of known causes ceases to be visible: as soon as heloses the thread of these causes, or as soon as his mind can no longerfollow the chain, he solves the difficulty, terminates his research, byascribing it to his gods; thus giving a vague definition to an unknowncause, at which either his idleness, or his limited knowledge, obligeshim to stop. When, therefore, he ascribes to his gods the production ofsome phenomenon, the novelty or the extent of which strikes him withwonder, but of which his ignorance precludes him from unravelling thetrue cause, or which he believes the natural powers with which he isacquainted are inadequate to bring forth; does he, in fact, do any thingmore than substitute for the darkness of his own mind, a sound to whichhe has been accustomed to listen with reverential awe? Ignorance may besaid to be the inheritance of the generality of men; these attribute totheir gods not only those uncommon effects that burst upon their senseswith an astounding force, but also the most simple events, the causes ofwhich are the most easy to be known to whoever shall be willing tomeditate upon them. In short, man has always respected those unknowncauses, those surprising effects which his ignorance prevented him fromfathoming. 

But does this afford us one single, correct idea of the _Divinity_? Canit be possible we are acting rationally, thus eternally to make him theagent of our stupidity, of our sloth, of our want of information onnatural causes? Do we, in fact, pay any kind of adoration to this being, by thus bringing him forth on every trifling occasion, to solve thedifficulties ignorance throws in our way? Of whatever nature this greatcause of causes may be, it is evident to the slightest reflection thathe has been sedulous to conceal himself from our view; that he hasrendered it impossible for us to have the least acquaintance with him, except through the medium of nature, which he has unquestionablyrendered competent to every thing: this is the rich banquet spreadbefore man; he is invited to partake, with a welcome he has no right todispute; to enjoy therefore is to obey; to be happy is to render thatworship which must make him most acceptable; _to be happy himself is tomake others happy; to make others happy is to be virtuous; to bevirtuous he must revere truth: to know what truth is, he must examinewith caution, scrutinize with severity, every opinion he adopts:_ thisgranted, is it at all consistent with the majesty of the Divinity, is itnot insulting to such a being to clothe him with our wayward passions;to ascribe to him designs similar to our narrow view of things; to givehim our filthy desires; to suppose he can be guided by our finiteconceptions; to bring him on a level with frail humanity, by investinghim with our qualities, however much we may exaggerate them; to indulgean opinion that he can either act or think as we do; to imagine he canin any manner resemble such a feeble play-thing, as is the greatest, themost distinguished man? No! it is to degrade him in the eye of reason;to violate every regard for truth; to set moral decency at defiance; tofall back into the depth of cimmerian darkness. Let man therefore sitdown cheerfully to the feast; let him contentedly partake of what hefinds; but let him not worry the Divinity with his useless prayers, withhis shallow-sighted requests, to solicit at his hands that which, ifgranted, would in all probability be the most injurious for himself;these supplications are, in fact, at once to say, that with our limitedexperience, with our slender knowledge, we better understand what issuitable to our condition, what is convenient to our welfare, than themighty _Cause of all causes_ who has left us in the hands of nature: itis to be presumptuous in the highest degree of presumption; it isimpiously to endeavour to lift up a veil which it is evidently forbiddenman to touch; that even his most strenuous efforts attempt in vain. 

It remains, then, to inquire, if man can reasonably flatter himself withobtaining a perfect knowledge of the power of nature; of the propertiesof the beings she contains; of the effects which may result from theirvarious combinations? Do we know why the magnet attracts iron? Are webetter acquainted with the cause of polar attraction? Are we in acondition to explain the phenomena of light, electricity, elasticity? Dowe understand the mechanism by which that modification of our brain, which we tall volition, puts our arm or our legs into motion? Can werender to ourselves an account of the manner in which our eyes beholdobjects, in which our ears receive sounds, in which our mind conceivesideas? All we know upon these subjects is, that they are so. If then weare incapable of accounting for the most ordinary phenomena, whichnature daily exhibits to us, by what chain of reasoning do we refuse toher the power of producing other effects equally incomprehensible to us?Shall we be more instructed, when every time we behold an effect ofwhich we are not in a capacity to develope the cause, we may idly say, this effect is produced by the power, by the will of God? Undoubtedly itis the great _Cause of causes_ must have produced every thing; but is itnot lessening the true dignity of the Divinity, to introduce him asinterfering in every operation of nature; nay, in every action of soinsignificant a creature as man? As a mere agent executing his owneternal, immutable laws; when experience, when reflection, when theevidence of all we contemplate, warrants the idea, that this ineffablebeing has rendered nature competent to every effect, by giving her thoseirrevocable laws, that eternal, unchangeable system, according to whichall the beings she contains must eternally act? Is it not more worthythe exalted mind of the GREAT PARENT OF PARENTS, _ens entium_, moreconsistent with truth, to suppose that his wisdom in giving theseimmutable, these eternal laws to the macrocosm, foresaw every thing thatcould possibly be requisite for the happiness of the beings contained init; that therefore he left it to the invariable operation of a system, which never can produce any effect that is not the best possible thatcircumstances however viewed will admit: that consequently the naturalactivity of the human mind, which is itself the result of this eternalaction, was purposely given to man, that he might endeavour to fathom, that he might strive to unravel, that he might seek out theconcatenation of these laws, in order to furnish remedies against theevils produced by ignorance. How many discoveries in the great scienceof natural philosophy has mankind progressively made, which the ignorantprejudices of our forefathers on their first announcement considered asimpious, as displeasing to the Divinity, as heretical profanations, which could only be expiated by the sacrifice of the enquiringindividuals; to whose labour their posterity owes such an infinity ofgratitude? Even in modern days we have seen a SOCRATES destroyed, aGALLILEO condemned, whilst multitudes of other benefactors to mankindhave been held in contempt by their uninformed cotemporaries, for thosevery researches into nature which the present generation hold in thehighest veneration. _Whenever ignorant priests are permitted to guidethe opinions of nations, science can make but a very slender progress:_natural discoveries will be always held inimical to the interest ofbigotted superstitious men. It may, to the minds of infatuated mortals, to the shallow comprehension of prejudiced beings, appear very pious toreply on every occasion our gods do this, our gods do that; but to thecontemplative philosopher, to the man of reason, to the real adorers ofthe great _Cause of causes_, it will never be convincing, that a sound, a mere word, can attach the reason of things; can have more than a fixedsense; can suffice to explain problems. The word GOD is for the mostpart used to denote the impenetrable cause of those effects whichastonish mankind; which man is not competent to explain. But is not thiswilful idleness? Is it not inconsistent with our nature? Is it not beingtruly impious, to sit down with those fine faculties we have received, and give the answer of a child to every thing we do not understand; orrather which our own sloth, or our own want of industry has prevented usfrom knowing? Ought we not rather to redouble our efforts to penetratethe cause of those phenomena which strike our mind? Is not this, infact, the duty we owe to the great, the universal Parent? When we havegiven this answer, what have we said? nothing but what every one knows. Could the great _Cause of causes_ make the whole, without also makingits part? But does it of necessity follow that he executes everytrifling operation, when he has so noble an agent as his own nature, whose laws he has rendered unchangeable, whose scale of operations cannever deviate from the eternal routine he has marked out for her and allthe beings she embraces? Whose secrets, if sought out, contain the truebalsam of life--the sovereign remedy for all the diseases of man. 

When we shall be ingenuous with ourselves, we shall be obliged to agreethat it was uniformly the ignorance in which our ancestors wereinvolved, their want of knowledge of natural causes, their unenlightenedideas on the powers of nature, which gave birth to the gods theyworshipped; that it is, again, the impossibility which the greater partof mankind find to withdraw, themselves out of this ignorance, thedifficulty they consequently find to form to themselves simple ideas ofthe formation of things, the labour that is required to discover thetrue sources of those events, which they either admire or fear, thatmakes them believe these ideas are necessary to enable them to render anaccount of those phenomena, to which their own sluggishness renders themincompetent to recur. Here, without doubt, is the reason they treat allthose as irrational who do not see the necessity of admitting an unknownagent, or some secret energy, which for want of being acquainted withNature, they have placed out of herself. 

The phenomena of nature necessarily breed various sentiments in man:some he thinks favorable to him, some prejudicial, while the whole isonly what it can be. Some excite his love, his admiration, hisgratitude; others fill him with trouble, cause aversion, drive him todespair. According to the various sensations he experiences, he eitherloves or fears the causes to which he attributes the effects, whichproduce in him these different passions: these sentiments arecommensurate with the effects he experiences; his admiration isenhanced, his fears are augmented, in the same ratio as the phenomenawhich strikes his senses are more or less extensive, more or lessirresistible or interesting to him. Man necessarily makes himself thecentre of nature; indeed he can only judge of things, as he is himselfaffected by them; he can only love that which he thinks favorable to hisbeing; he hates, he fears every thing which causes him to suffer: inshort, as we have seen in the former volume, he calls confusion everything that deranges the economy of his machine; he believes all is inorder, as soon as he experiences nothing but what is suitable to hispeculiar mode of existence. By a necessary consequence of these ideas, man firmly believes that the entire of nature was made for him alone;that it was only himself which she had in view in all her works; orrather that the powerful cause to which this nature was subordinate, hadonly for object man and his convenience, in all the stupendous effectswhich are produced in the universe. 

If there existed on this earth other thinking beings besides man, theywould fall exactly into similar prejudices with himself; it is asentiment founded upon that predilection which each individualnecessarily has for himself; a predilection that will subsist untilreason, aided by experience, in pointing out the truth, shall haverectified his errors. 

Thus, whenever man is contented, whenever every thing is in order withrespect to himself, he either admires or loves the causes to which hebelieves he is indebted for his welfare; when he becomes discontentedwith his mode of existence, he either fears or hates the cause which hesupposes has produced these afflicting effects. But his welfareconfounds itself with his existence; it ceases to make itself felt whenit has become habitual, when it has been of long continuance; he thenthinks it is inherrent to his essence; he concludes from it that he isformed to be always happy; he finds it natural that every thing shouldconcur to the maintenance of his being. It is by no means the same whenhe experiences a mode of existence that is displeasing to himself: theman who suffers is quite astonished at the change which his taken placein his machine; he judges it to be contrary to the entire of nature, because it is incommodious to his own particular nature; he, imaginesthose events by which he is wounded, to be contrary to the order ofthings; he believes that nature is deranged every time she does notprocure for him that mode of feeling which is suitable to his ideas: heconcludes from these suppositions that nature, or rather that the agentwho moves her; is irritated against him. 

It is thus that man, almost insensible to good, feels evil in a verylively manner; the first he believes natural, the other he thinksopposed to nature. He is either ignorant, or forgets, that heconstitutes part of a whole, formed by the assemblage of substances, ofwhich some are analogous, others heterogeneous; that the various beingsof which nature is composed, are endowed with a variety of properties, by virtue of which they act diversely on the bodies who find themselveswithin the sphere of their action; that some have an aptitude toattraction, whilst it is of the essence of others to repel; that eventhose bodies that attract at one distance, repel at another; that thepeculiar attractions and repulsions of the particles of bodiesperpetually oppose, invariably counteract the general ones of the massesof matter: he does not perceive that these beings, as destitute ofgoodness, as devoid of malice, act only according to their respectiveessences; follow the laws their properties impose upon them; withoutbeing in capacity to act otherwise than they do. It is, therefore, forwant of being acquainted with these things, that he looks upon the greatAuthor of nature, the great _Cause of causes_, as the immediate cause ofthose evils to which he is submitted; that he judges erroneously when heimagines that the Divinity is exasperated against him. 

The fact is, man believes that his welfare is a debt due to him fromnature; that when he suffers evil she does him an injustice; fullypersuaded that this nature was made solely for himself, he cannotconceive she would make him, who is her lord paramount, suffer, if shewas not moved thereto by a power who is inimical to his happiness; whohas reasons with which he is unacquainted for afflicting, who hasmotives which he wishes to discover, for punishing him. From hence itwill be obvious, that evil, much more than good, is the true motive ofthose researches which man has made concerning the Divinity--of thoseideas which he has formed to himself--of the conduct he has held towardshim. The admiration of the works of nature, or the acknowledgement ofits goodness, seem never alone to have determined the human species torecur painfully by thought to the source of these things; familiarizedat once with all those effects which are favourable to his existence, hedoes not by any means give himself the same trouble to seek the causes, that he does to discover those which disquiet him, or by which he isafflicted. Thus, in reflecting upon the Divinity, it was generally uponthe cause of his evils that man meditated; his meditations werefruitless, because the evil he experiences, as well as the good hepartakes, are equally necessary effects of natural causes, to which hismind ought rather to have bent its force, than to have inventedfictitious causes of which he never could form to himself any but falseideas; seeing that he always borrowed them, from his own peculiarmariner of existing, acting, and feeling. Obstinately refusing to seeany thing, but himself, he never became acquainted with that universalnature of which he constitutes such a very feeble part. 

The slightest reflection, however, would have been sufficient toundeceive him on these erroneous ideas. Everything tends to prove thatgood and evil are modes of existence that depend upon causes by which aman is moved; that a sensible being is obliged to experience them. In anature composed of a multitude of beings infinitely varied, the shockoccasioned by the collision of discordant matter must necessarilydisturb the order, derange the mode of existence of those beings whohave no analogy with them: these act in every thing they do aftercertain laws, which are in themselves immutable; the good or evil, therefore, which man experiences, are necessary consequences of thequalities inherent to the beings, within whose sphere of action he isfound. Our birth, which we call a benefit, is an effect as necessary asour death, which we contemplate as an injustice of fate: it is of thenature of all analogous beings to unite themselves to form a whole: itis of the nature of all compound beings to be destroyed, or to dissolvethemselves; some maintain their union for a longer period than others;some disperse very quickly, as the ephemeron; some endure for ages, asthe planets; every being in dissolving itself gives birth to new beings;these are destroyed in their turn; to execute the eternal, the immutablelaws of a nature that only exists by the continual changes that all itsparts undergo. Thus nature cannot be accused of malice, since everything that takes place in it is necessary--is produced by an invariablesystem, to which every other being, as well as herself, is eternallysubjected. The same igneous matter that in man is the principle of life, frequently becomes the principle of his destruction, either by theconflagration of a city, the explosion of a volcano, or his mad passionfor war. The aqueous fluid that circulates through his machine, soessentially necessary to his actual existence, frequently becomes tooabundant, and terminates him by suffocation; is the cause of thoseinundations which sometimes swallow up both the earth and itsinhabitants. The air, without which he is not able to respire, is thecause of those hurricanes, of those tempests, which frequently renderuseless the labour of mortals. These elements are obliged to burst theirbonds, when they are combined in a certain manner; their necessary butfatal consequences are those ravages, those contagions, those famines, those diseases, those various scourges, against which man, withstreaming eyes and violent emotions, vainly implores the aid of thosepowers who are deaf to his cries: his prayers are never granted; but thesame necessity which afflicted him, the same immutable laws whichoverwhelmed him with trouble, replaces things in the order he findssuitable to his species: a relative order of things which was, is, andalways will be the only standard of his judgment. 

Man, however, made no such simple reflections: he either did not orwould not perceive that every thing in nature acted by invariable laws;he continued stedfast in contemplating the good of which he waspartaker, as a favor; in considering the evil he experienced, as a signof anger in this nature, which he supposed to be animated by the samepassions as himself or at least that it was governed by secret agents, who acted after his own manner, who obliged it to execute their will, that was sometimes favourable, sometimes inimical to the human species. It was to these supposed agents, with whom in the sunshine of hisprosperity he was but little occupied, that in the bosom of his calamityhe addressed his prayers; he thanked them, however, for their favours, fearing lest their ingratitude might farther provoke their fury: thuswhen assailed by disaster, when afflicted with disease, he invoked themwith fervor: he required them to change in his favor the mode of actingwhich was the very essence of beings; he was willing that to make theslightest evil he experienced cease, that the eternal chain of thingsmight be broken; and the unerring, undeviating course of nature might hearrested. 

It was upon such ridiculous pretensions, that were founded thosesupplications, those fervent prayers, which mortals, almost alwaysdiscontented with their fate, never in accord in their respectivedesires, addressed to their gods. They were unceasingly upon their kneesbefore the altars, were ever prostrate before the power of the beings, whom they judged had the right of commanding nature; who they supposedto have sufficient energy to divert her course; who they considered topossess the means to make her subservient to their particular views;thus each hoped by presents, by humiliation, to induce them to obligethis nature, to satisfy the discordant desires of their race. The sickman, expiring in his bed, asks that the humours accumulated in his bodyshould in an instant lose those properties which renders them injuriousto his existence; that by an act of their puissance, his gods shouldrenew or recreate the springs of a machine worn out by infirmities. Thecultivator of a low swampy country, makes complaint of the abundance ofrain with which his fields are inundated; whilst the inhabitant of thehill, raises his thanks for the favors he receives, solicits acontinuance of that which causes the despair of his neighbour. In this, each is willing to have a god for himself, and asks according to hismomentary caprices, to his fluctuating wants, that the invariableessence of things, should be continually changed in his favour. 

From this it must be obvious, that man every moment asks a _miracle_ tobe wrought in his support. It is not, therefore, at all surprising thathe displayed such ready credulity, that he adopted with such facilitythe relation of the marvellous deeds which were universally announced tohim as the acts of the power, or the effects of the benevolence, of thevarious gods which presided over the nations of the earth: thesewonderful tales, which were offered to his acceptance, as the mostindubitable proofs of the empire of these gods over nature, which manalways found deaf to his entreaties, were readily accredited by him; inthe expectation, that if he could gain them over to his interest, thisnature, which he found so sullen, so little disposed to lend herself tohis views, would then be controuled in his own favor. 

By a necessary consequence of these ideas, nature was despoiled of allpower; she was contemplated only as a passive instrument, who acted atthe will, under the influence of the numerous, all-powerful agents towhom the various superstitions had rendered her subordinate. It was thusfor want of contemplating nature under her true point of view, that manhas mistaken her entirely, that he believed her incapable of producingany thing by herself; that he ascribed the honor of all thoseproductions, whether advantageous or disadvantageous to the humanspecies, to fictitious powers, whom he always clothed with his ownpeculiar dispositions, only he aggrandized their force. In short, it wasupon the ruins of nature, that man erected the imaginary colossus ofsuperstition, that he reared the _altars of a Jupiter, the temples of anApollo_. 

If the ignorance of nature gave birth to such a variety of gods, theknowledge of this nature is calculated to destroy them. As soon as manbecomes enlightened, his powers augment, his resources increase in aratio with his knowledge; the sciences, the protecting arts, industriousapplication, furnish him assistance; experience encourages his progress, truth procures for him the means of resisting the efforts of manycauses, which cease to alarm him as soon as he obtains a correctknowledge of them. In a word, his terrors dissipate in proportion as hismind becomes enlightened, because his trepidation is ever commensuratewith his ignorance, and furnishes this great lesson, that _man, instructed by truth, ceases to be superstitious_. 

CHAP. II. 

_Of Mythology, and Theology_. 

The elements of nature were, as we have shewn, the first divinities ofman; he has generally commenced with adoring material beings; eachindividual, as we have already said, as may be still seen in savagenations, made to himself a particular god, of some physical object, which he supposed to be the cause of those events, in which he washimself interested; he never wandered to seek out of visible nature, thesource either of what happened to himself, or of those phenomena towhich he was a witness. As he every where saw only material effects, heattributed them to causes of the same genus; incapable in his infancy ofthose profound reveries, of those subtle speculations, which are thefruit of time, the result of leisure, he did not imagine any causedistinguished from the objects that met his sight, nor of any essencetotally different from every thing he beheld. 

The observation of nature was the first study of those who had leisureto meditate: they could not avoid being struck with the phenomena of thevisible world. The rising and setting of the sun, the periodical returnof the seasons, the variations of the atmosphere, the fertility andsterility of the earth, the advantages of irrigation, the damage causedby floods, the useful effects of fire, the terrible consequences ofconflagration, were proper and suitable objects to occupy theirthoughts. It was natural for them to believe that those beings they sawmove of themselves, acted by their own peculiar energies; according astheir influence over the inhabitants of the earth was either favorableor otherwise, they concluded them to have either the power to injurethem, or the disposition to confer benefits. Those who first acquiredthe knowledge of gaining an ascendancy over man, then savage, wandering, unpolished, or dispersed in woods, with but little attachment to thesoil, of which he had not yet learned to reap the advantage, were alwaysmore practised observers--individuals more instructed in the ways ofnature, than the people, or rather the scattered hordes, whom they foundignorant and destitute of experience: their superior knowledge placedthem in a capacity to render these services--to discover to them usefulinventions, which attracted the confidence of the unhappy beings to whomthey came to offer an assisting hand; savages who were naked, halffamished, exposed to the injuries of the weather, obnoxious to theattacks of ferocious beasts, dispersed in caverns, scattered in forests, occupied with hunting, painfully labouring to procure themselves a veryprecarious subsistence, had not sufficient leisure to make discoveriescalculated to facilitate their labour, or to render it less incessant. These discoveries are generally the fruit of society: isolated beings, detached families, hardly ever make any discoveries--scarcely ever thinkof making any. The savage is a being who lives in a perpetual state ofinfancy, who never reaches maturity unless some one comes to draw himout of his misery. At first repulsive, unsociable, intractable, he bydegrees familiarizes himself with those who render him service; oncegained by their kindness, he readily lends them his confidence; in theend he goes the length of sacrificing to them his liberty. 

It was commonly from the bosom of civilized nations that have issuedthose personages who have carried sociability, agriculture, art, laws, gods, superstition, forms of worship, to those families or hordes as yetscattered; who united them either to the body of some other nations, orformed them into new nations, of which they themselves became theleaders, sometimes the king, frequently the high priest, and often theirgod. These softened their manners--gathered them together--taught themto reap the advantages of their own powers--to render each otherreciprocal assistance--to satisfy their wants with greater facility. Inthus rendering their existence more comfortable, thus augmenting theirhappiness, they attracted their love; obtained their veneration, acquired the right of prescribing opinions to them, made them adopt suchas they had either invented themselves, or else drawn up in thecivilized countries from whence they came. History points out to us themost famous legislators as men, who, enriched with useful knowledge theyhad gleaned in the bosom of polished nations, carried to savages withoutindustry, needing assistance, those arts, of which, until then, theserude people were ignorant: such were the Bacchus's, the Orpheus's, theTriptolemus's, the Numa's, the Zamolixis's; in short, all those whofirst gave to nations their gods--their worship--the rudiments ofagriculture, of science, of superstition, of jurisprudence, of religion, &c. 

It will perhaps be enquired, If those nations which at the present daywe see assembled, were all originally dispersed? We reply, that thisdispersion may have been produced at various times, by those terriblerevolutions, of which it has before been remarked our globe has morethan once been the theatre; in times so remote, that history has notbeen able to transmit us the detail. Perhaps the approach of more thanone comet may have produced on our earth several universal ravages, which have at each time annihilated the greater portion of the humanspecies. 

These hypotheses will unquestionably appear bold to those who have notsufficiently meditated on nature, but to the philosophic enquirer theyare by no means inconsistent. There may not only have been one generaldeluge, but even a great number since the existence of our planet; thisglobe itself may have been a new production in nature; it may not alwayshave occupied the place it does at present. Whatever idea may be adoptedon this subject, if it is very certain that, independent of thoseexterior causes, which are competent to totally change its face, as theimpulse of a comet may do, this globe contains within itself, a causeadequate to alter it entirely, since, besides the diurnal and sensiblemotion of the earth, it has one extremely slow, almost imperceptible, bywhich every thing must eventually be changed in it: this is the motionfrom whence depends the _precession_ of the _equinoctial points_, observed by _Hipparchus_ and other mathematicians, now well understoodby astronomers; by this motion, the earth must at the end of severalthousand years change totally: this motion will at length cause theocean to occupy that space which at present forms the lands orcontinents. From this it will be obvious that our globe, as well as allthe beings in nature, has a continual disposition to change. This motionwas known to the ancients, and was what gave rise to what they calledtheir great year, which the Egyptians fixed at thirty-six thousand fivehundred and twenty-five years: the Sabines at thirty-six thousand fourhundred and twenty-five, whilst others have extended it to one hundredthousand, some even to seven hundred and fifty-three thousand years. Again, to those general revolutions which our planet has at differenttimes experienced, way he added those that have been partial, such asinundations of the sea, earthquakes, subterraneous conflagrations, whichhave sometimes had the effect of dispersing particular nations, and tomake them forget all those sciences with which they were, beforeacquainted. It is also probable that the first volcanic fires, havinghad no previous vent, were more central, and greater in quantity, beforethey burst the crust of earth; as the sea washed the whole, it must haverapidly sunk down into every opening, where, falling on the boilinglava, it was instantly expanded into steam, producing irresistibleexplosion: whence it is reasonable to conclude, that the primaevalearthquakes wore more widely extended, and of much greater force, thanthose which occur in our days. Other vapours may be produced by intenseheat, possessing a much greater elasticity, from substances thatevaporate, such as mercury, diamonds, &c. ; the expansive force of thesevapours would be much greater than the steam of water, even at red hotheat consequently they, way have had sufficient energy to raise islands, continents, or even to have detached the moon from the earth; if themoon, as has been supposed by some philosophers, was thrown out of thegreat cavity which now contains the South Sea; the immense quantity ofwater flowing in from the, original ocean, and which then covered theearth, would much contribute to leave the continents and islands, whichmight be raised at the same time, above the surface of the water. Inlater days we have accounts of huge stones falling, from the firmament, which may have been thrown by explosion from some distant earthquake, without having been impelled with a force sufficient to cause them tocirculate round the earth, and thus produce numerous small moons orsatellites. 

Those who were able to escape from the ruin of the world, filled withconsternation, plunged in misery, were but little conditioned topreserve to their posterity a knowledge, effaced by those misfortunes, of which they had been both the victims and the witnesses: overwhelmedwith dismay, trembling with fear, they were not able to hand down thehistory of their frightful adventures, except by obscure traditions;much less to transmit to us the opinions, the systems, the arts, thesciences, anterior to these petrifying revolutions of our sphere. Therehave been perhaps men upon the earth from all eternity; but at differentperiods they may have been nearly annihilated, together with theirmonuments, their sciences, and their arts; those who outlived theseperiodical revolutions, each time formed a new race of men, who by dintof time, labour, and experience, have by degrees withdrawn from oblivionthe inventions of the primitive races. It is, perhaps, to theseperiodical revolutions of the human species, that is to be ascribed theprofound ignorance in which we see man yet plunged, upon those objectsthat are the most interesting to him. This is, perhaps, the true sourceof the imperfection of his knowledge--of the vices of his politicalinstitutions--of the defect in his religion--of the growth ofsuperstition, over which terror has always presided; here, in allprobability, is the cause of that puerile inexperience, of those jejuneprejudices, which almost every where keep man in a state of infancy, andwhich render him so little capable of either listening to reason or ofconsulting truth. To judge by the slowness of his progress, by thefeebleness of his advance, in a number of respects, we should beinclined to say, the human race has either just quitted its cradle, orthat he was never destined to attain the age of virility--to corroboratehis reason. 

However it may be with these conjectures, whether the human race mayalways have existed upon the earth, whether it may have been a recentproduction of nature, whether the larger animals we now behold wereoriginally derived from the smallest microscopic ones, who haveincreased in bulk with the progression of time, or whether, as theEgyptian philosophers thought, mankind were originally hermaphrodites, who like the _aphis_ produced the sexual distinction after somegenerations, which was also the opinion of Plato, and seems to have beenthat of Moses, who was educated amongst these Egyptians, as may begathered from the 27th and 28th verses of the first chapter of GENESIS:"So God created man in his own image, in the image of God created behim; male and female created he them--And GOD blessed them, and GOD saidunto them, be fruitful, and multiply, and replenish the earth, andsubdue it: and have dominion over the fish of the sea, and over the fowlof the air, and over every living thing that moveth upon the earth:" itis not therefore presuming too much to suppose, as the Egyptians were anation very fond of explaining their opinions by hieroglyphics, thatthat part which describes Eve as taken out of Adam's rib, was anhieroglyphic emblem: showing that mankind was in the primitive state ofboth sexes, united, who was afterwards divided into males and females. However, I say, this may be, it is extremely easy to recur to the originof many existing nations: we shall find them always in the savage state;that is, to say, dispersed; composed of families detached from eachother; of wandering, hordes; these were collected together, approximatedat the voice of some missionary or legislator, from whom they receivedgreat benefits, who gave them gods, opinions, and laws. Thesepersonages, of whom the people newly congregated readily acknowledgedthe superiority, fixed the national gods, leaving to each individual, those which he had formed to himself, according to his own peculiarideas, or else substituting others brought from those regions, fromwhence they themselves had emigrated. 

The better to imprint their lessons on the minds of their new subjects, these men became the guides, the priests, the sovereigns, the masters ofthese infant societies; they formed discourses by which they spoke tothe imagination of their willing auditors. POETRY seem best adapted tostrike the mind of these rude people, to engrave on their memory thoseideas with which they were willing to imbue them: its images, itsfictions, its numbers, its rhyme its harmony, all conspired to pleasetheir fancy, to render permanent the, impressions it made: thus, theentire of nature, as well as all its parts, was personified, by itsbeautiful allegories: at its soothing voice, trees, stones, rocks, earth, air, fire, water, by imagination took intelligence, heldconversation with man, and with themselves; the elements were deified byits songs, every thing was figuratively detailed in harmonious lays. Thesky, which according to the then philosophy, was an arched concave, spreading over the earth, which was supposed to be a level plain; (forthe doctrine of _antipodes_ is of rather modern date) was itself made agod; was considered a more suitable residence, as making a greaterdistinction for these imaginary deities than the earth on which manhimself resided. Thus the firmament was filled with deities. 

Time, under the name of Saturn, was pictured as the son of heaven; orCoelus by earth, called Terra, or Thea; he was represented as aninexorable divinity--naturally artful, who devoured his own children--who revenged the anger of his mother upon his father; for which purposeshe armed him with a scythe, formed of metals drawn from her own bowels, with which he struck Coelus, in the act of uniting himself to Thea, andso mutilated him, that he was ever after incapacitated to increase thenumber of his children: he was said to have divided the throne withJanus king of Italy, his reign seems to have been so mild, sobeneficent, that it was called the _golden age_; human victims weresacrificed on his altars, until abolished by Hercules, who substitutedsmall images of clay. Festivals in honor of this god, called Saturnalia, were instituted long antecedent to the foundation of Rome they werecelebrated about the middle of December, either on the 16th, 17th, or18th; they lasted in latter times several days, originally but one. Universal liberty prevailed at the celebration, slaves were permitted toridicule their masters--to speak freely on every subject--no criminalswere executed--war never declared; the priests made their humanofferings with their heads uncovered; a circumstance peculiar to theSaturnalia, not adopted at other festivals. 

The igneous matter, the etherial electric fluid, that invisible firewhich vivifies nature, that penetrates all beings, that fertilizes theearth, which is the great principle of motion, the source of heat, wasdeified under the name of Jupiter: his combination with every being innature was expressed by his metamorphoses--by the frequent adulteriesimputed to him. He was armed with thunder, to indicate he producedmeteors, to typify the electric fluid that is called lightning. Hemarried the winds, which were designated under the name of Juno, therefore called the Goddess of the Winds, their nuptials werecelebrated with great solemnity; all the gods, the entire brutecreation, the whole of mankind attended, except one young woman namedChelone, who laughed at the ceremonies, for which impiety she waschanged by Mercury into a tortoise, and condemned to perpetual silence. He was the most powerful of all the gods, and considered as the king andfather both of gods and men: his worship was very extended, performedwith greater solemnity, than that of any other god. Upon his altarssmoked goats, sheep, and white bulls, in which he is said to haveparticularly delighted; the oak was rendered sacred to him, because hetaught mankind to live upon acorns; he had many oracles where hisprecepts were delivered, the most celebrated of these were at Dodona andAmmon in Lybia; he was supposed to be invisible to the inhabitants ofthe earth; the Lacedemonians erected his statue with four heads, therebyindicating, that he listened readily to the solicitations of everyquarter of the earth. Minerva is represented as having no mother, but tohave come completely armed from his brains, when his head was opened byVulcan; by which it is meant to infer that wisdom is the result of thisethereal fluid. Thus, following the same fictions, the sun, thatbeneficent star which has such a marked influence over the earth, becamean Osiris, a Belus, a Mithras, an Adonis, an Apollo. Nature, renderedsorrowful by his periodical absence, was an Isis, an Astarte, a Venus, aCybele. Astarte had a magnificent temple at Hieropolis served by threehundred priests, who were always employed in offering sacrifices. Thepriests of Cybele, called Corybantes, also Galli, were not admitted totheir sacred functions without previous mutilation. In the celebrationof their festivals these priests used all kinds of indecent expressions, beat drums, cymbals, and behaved just like madmen: his worship extendedall over Phrygia, and was established in Greece under the name of_Eleusinian mysteries_. In short, every thing was personified: the seawas under the empire of Neptune; fire was adored by the Egyptians underthe name of Serapis; by the Persians, under that of Ormus or Oromaze;and by the Romans, under that of Vesta and Vulcan. 

Such was the origin of mythology: it may be said to be the daughter ofnatural philosophy, embellished by poetry; only destined to describenature and its parts. If antiquity is consulted, it will be perceivedwithout much trouble, that these famous sages, those legislators, thosepriests, those conquerors, who were the instructors of infant nations, themselves adored active nature, or the great whole consideredrelatively to its different operations or qualities; that this was whatthey caused the ignorant savages whom they had gathered together toadore. It was the great whole they deified; it was its various partswhich they made their inferior gods; it was from the necessity of herlaws they made fate. The Greeks called it Nature, a divinity who had athousand names. Varro says, "I believe that God is the soul of theuniverse, and that the universe is God. " Cicero says "that in themysteries of Samothracia, of Lemnos, of Eleusis, it was nature much morethan the gods, they explained to the initiated. " Pliny says, "we mustbelieve that the world, or that which is contained under the vast extentof the heavens, is the Divinity; even eternal, infinite, withoutbeginning or end. " It was these different modes of considering naturethat gave birth to Polytheism, to idolatry. Allegory masqued its mode ofaction: it was at length parts of this great whole, that idolatryrepresented by statues and symbols. 

To complete the proofs of what has been said; to shew distinctly that itwas the great whole, the universe, the nature of things, which was thereal object of the worship of Pagan antiquity, hardly any thing can bemore decisive than the beginning of the hymn of Orpheus addressed to thegod Pan. 

"O Pan! I invoke thee, O powerful god! O universal nature! the heavens, the sea, the earth, who nourish all, and the eternal fire, because theseare thy members, O all powerful Pan, " &c. Nothing can be more suitableto confirm these ideas, than the ingenious explanation which is given ofthe fable of Pan, as well as of the figure under which he isrepresented. It is said, "Pan, according to the signification of hisname, is the emblem by which the ancients have designated the greatassemblage of things or beings: he represents the universe; and, in themind of the wisest philosophers of antiquity, he passed for the greatestand most ancient of the gods. The features under which he is delineatedform the portrait of nature, and of the savage state in which she wasfound in the beginning. The spotted skin of the leopard, which serveshim for a mantle, imagined the heavens filled with stars andconstellations. His person was compounded of parts, some of which weresuitable to a reasonable animal, that is to say, to man; and others tothe animal destitute of reason, such as the goat. It is thus, " says he, "that the universe is composed of an intelligence that governs thewhole, and of the prolific, fruitful elements of fire, water, earth, air. Pan, loved to drink and to follow the nymphs; this announces theoccasion nature has for humidity in all her productions, and that thisgod, like nature, is strongly inclined to propagation. According to theEgyptians, and the most ancient Grecian philosophers, Pan had neitherfather nor mother; he came out of Demogorgon at the same moment with theDestinies, his fatal sisters; a fine method of expressing that theuniverse was the work of an unknown power, and that it was formed afterthe invariable relations, the eternal laws of necessity; but his mostsignificant symbol, that most suitable to express the harmony of theuniverse, is his mysterious pipe, composed of seven unequal tubes, butcalculated to produce the nicest, the most perfect concord. The orbswhich compose the seven planets of our solar system, are of differentdiameters; being bodies of unequal mass, they describe their revolutionsround the sun in various periods; nevertheless it is from the order oftheir motion that results the harmony of the spheres, " &c. 

Here then is the great macrocosm, the mighty whole, the assemblage ofthings adored and deified by the philosophers of antiquity; whilst theuninformed stopped at the emblem under which this nature was depicted;at the symbols under which its various parts, its numerous functionswere personified; his narrow mind, his barbarous ignorance, neverpermitted him to mount higher; they alone were deemed worthy of being, initiated into the mysteries, who knew the realities masqued under theseemblems. Indeed, it is not to be doubted for an instant, that the wisestamong the Pagans adored nature; which ethnic theology designated under agreat variety of nomenclature, under an immense number of differentemblems. Apuleius, although a decided Platonist, accustomed to themysterious, unintelligible notions of his master, calls "Nature theparent of all; the mother of the elements, the first offspring of theworld;" again, "the mother of the stars, the parent of the seasons, andthe governess of the whole world. "--She was worshipped by many under theappellation of the _mother of the gods_. Indeed, the first institutorsof nations, and their immediate successors in authority, only spoke tothe people by fables, allegories, enigmas, of which they reserved tothemselves the right of giving an explanation: this, in fact, constituted the mysteries of the various worship paid to the Pagandivinities. This mysterious tone they considered necessary, whether itwas to mask their own ignorance, or whether it was to preserve theirpower over the uninformed, who for the most part only respect that whichis above their comprehension. Their explications were generally dictatedeither by interest, or by a delirious imagination, frequently byimposture; thus from age to age, they did no more than render nature andits parts, which they bad originally depicted, more unknown, until theycompletely lost sight of the primitive ideas; these were replaced by amultitude of fictitious personages, under whose features this nature hadprimarily been represented to them. The people, either unaccustomed tothink, or deeply steeped in ignorance, adored these personages, withoutpenetrating into the true sense of the emblematical fables recounted tothem. These ideal beings, with material figures, in whom they believedthere resided a mysterious virtue, a divine power, were the objects oftheir worship, the source of their fears, the fountain of their hopes. The wonderful, the incredible actions ascribed to these fancieddivinities, were an inexhaustible fund of admiration, which gaveperpetual play to the fancy; which delighted not only the people ofthose days, but even the children of latter ages. Thus were transmittedfrom age to age, those marvellous accounts, which, although necessary tothe existence of the power usurped by the ministers of these gods, did, in fact, nothing more than confirm the blindness of the ignorant: thesenever supposed that it was nature, its various operations, its numerouscomponent parts--that it was the passions of man and his diversefaculties that lay buried under an heap of allegories; they did notperceive that the passions and faculties of human nature were used asemblems, because man was ignorant of the true cause of the phenomena hebeheld. As strong passions seemed to hurry man along, in despite ofhimself, they either attributed these passions to a god, or deifiedthem; frequently they did both: it was thus love became a deity; thateloquence, poetry, industry, were transformed into gods, under the namesof Hermes, Mercury, Apollo; the stings of conscience were called theFuries: the people, bowed down in stupid ignorance, had no eyes but forthese emblematical persons, under which nature was masked: theyattributed to their influence the good, to their displeasure the evil, which they experienced: they entered into every kind of folly, into themost delirious acts of madness, to render them propitious to theirviews; thus, for want of being acquainted with the reality of things, their worship frequently degenerated into the most cruel extravagance, into the most ridiculous folly. 

Thus it is obvious, that every thing proves nature and its various partsto have every where been the first divinities of man. Naturalphilosophers studied these deities, either superficially or profoundly, --explained some of their properties, detailed some of their modes ofaction. Poets painted them to the imagination of mortals, either in themost fascinating colours, or under the most hideous deformities;embodied them--furnished them with reasoning faculties--recounted theirexploits--recorded their will. The statuary executed sometimes with themost enrapturing art, the ideas of the poets, --gave substance to theirshadows--form to their airy nothings. The priest decorated these unitedworks with a thousand marvellous qualities--with the most terriblepassions--with the most inconceivable attributes; gave them, "a localhabitation and a name. " The people adored them; prostrated themselvesbefore these gods, who were neither susceptible of love or hatred, goodness, or malice; they became persecuting, malevolent, cruel, unjust, in order to render themselves acceptable to powers generally describedto them under the most odious features. 

By dint of reasoning upon these emblems, by meditating upon nature, thusdecorated, or rather disfigured, subsequent speculators no longerrecollected the source from whence their predecessors had drawn theirgods, nor the fantastic ornaments with which they had embellished them. Natural philosophers and poets were transformed by leisure intometaphysicians and theologians; tired with contemplating what they couldhave understood, they believed they had made an important discovery bysubtilly distinguishing nature from herself--from her own peculiarenergies--from her faculty of action. By degrees they made anincomprehensible being of this energy, which as before they personified, this they called the mover of nature, divided it into two, one congenialto man's happiness, the other inimical to his welfare; these theydeified in the same manner as they had before done nature with hervarious parts. These abstract, metaphysical beings, became the soleobject of their thoughts; were the subject of their continualcontemplation; they looked upon them as realities of the highestimportance: thus nature quite disappeared; she was despoiled of herrights; she was considered as nothing more than an unwieldy mass, destitute of power; devoid of energy, as an heap of ignoble matterpurely passive: who, incapable of acting by herself, was not competentto any of the operations they beheld, without the direct, the immediateagency of the moving powers they had associated with her: which they hadmade the fulcrum necessary to the action of the lever. They either didnot or would not perceive, that the _great Cause of causes, ens entium, Parent of parents_, had, in unravelling chaotic matter, with a wisdomfor which man can never be sufficiently grateful, with a sagacity whichhe can never sufficiently admire, foreseen every thing that couldcontribute not only to his own individual happiness, but also to that ofall the beings in nature; that he had given this nature immutable laws, according to which she is for ever regulated; after which she is obligedinvariably to act; that he has described for her an eternal course, fromwhich it is not permitted her to deviate, even for an instant; that sheis therefore, rendered competent to the production of every phenomena, not only that he beholds, but of an infinity that he has never yetcontemplated; that she needs not any exterior energy for this purpose, having received her powers from a hand far superior to any the feebleweak imagination of man is able to form; that when this nature appearsto afflict him, it is only from the contraction of his own views, fromthe narrowness of his own ideas, that he judges; that, in fact, what heconsiders the evils of nature, are the greatest possible benefits he canreceive, if he was but in a condition to be acquainted with previouscauses, with subsequent effects. That the evils resulting to him fromhis own vices, have equally their remedies in this nature, which it ishis duty to study; which if he does he will find, that the sameomnipotent goodness, who gave her irrefragable laws, also planted in herbosom, balsams for all his maladies, whether physical or moral: but thatit is not given him to know what this great, this universal cause is, for purposes of which he ought not to dispute the wisdom, when hecontemplates the mighty wonders that surround him. 

Thus man ever preferred an unknown power, to that of which he wasenabled to have some knowledge, if he had only deigned to consult hisexperience; but he presently ceases to respect that which heunderstands; to estimate those objects which are familiar to him: hefigures to himself something marvellous in every thing he does notcomprehend; his mind, above all, labours to seize upon that whichappears to escape his consideration; in default of experience, he nolonger consults any thing, but his imagination, which feeds him withchimeras. In consequence, those speculators who have subtillydistinguished nature from her own powers, have successively laboured toclothe the powers thus separated with, a thousand incomprehensiblequalities: as they did not see this power, which is only a mode, theymade it a spirit--an intelligence--an incorporeal being; that is to say, of a substance totally different from every thing of which we have aknowledge. They never perceived that all their inventions, that all thewords which they imagined, only served to mask their real ignorance;that all their pretended science was limited to saying, in what mannernature acted, by a thousand subterfuges which they themselves found itimpossible to comprehend. Man always deceives himself for want ofstudying nature; he leads himself astray, every time he is disposed togo out of it; he is always quickly necessitated to return; he is even inerror when he substitutes words which he does not himself understand, for things which he would much better comprehend if he was willing tolook at them without prejudice. 

Can a theologian ingenuously believe himself more enlightened, forhaving substituted the vague words spirit, incorporeal substance, &c. Tothe more intelligible terms nature, matter, mobility, necessity? Howeverthis may be, these obscure words once imagined, it was necessary toattach ideas to them; in doing this, he has not been able to draw themfrom any other source than the beings of this despised nature, which areever the only beings of which he is enabled to have any knowledge. Man, consequently, drew them up in himself; his own soul served for the modelof the universal soul, of which indeed according to some it only formeda portion; his own mind was the standard of the mind that regulatednature; his own passions, his own desires, were the prototypes of thoseby which he actuated this being; his own intelligence was that fromwhich he formed that of the mover of nature; that which was suitable tohimself, he called the order of nature; this pretended order was thescale by which he measured the wisdom of this being; in short, thosequalities which he calls perfections in himself, were the archetypes inminiature, of the perfections of the being, he thus gratuitouslysupposed to be the agent, who operated the phenomena of nature. It wasthus, that in despite of all their efforts, the theologians were, perhaps always will be, true Anthropomorphites. A sect of thisdenomination appeared in 359, in Egypt, they held the doctrine thattheir god had a bodily shape. Indeed it is very difficult, if notimpossible to prevent man from making himself the sole model of hisdivinity. Montaigne says "man is not able to be other than he is, norimagine but after his capacity; let him take what pains he may, he willnever have a knowledge of any soul but his own. " Xenophanes said, "ifthe ox or the elephant understood either sculpture or painting, theywould not fail to represent the divinity under their own peculiar figurethat in this, they would have as much reason as Polyclitus or Phidias, who gave him the human form. " It was said to a very celebrated man that"God made man after his own image;" "man has returned the compliment, "replied the philosopher. Indeed, man generally sees in his God, nothingbut a man. Let him subtilize as he will, let him extend his own powersas he may, let him swell his own perfections to the utmost, he will havedone nothing more than make a gigantic, exaggerated man, whom he willrender illusory by dint of heaping together incompatible qualities. Hewill never see in such a god, but a being of the human species, in whomhe will strive to aggrandize the proportions, until he has formed abeing totally inconceivable. It is according to these dispositions thathe attributes intelligence, wisdom, goodness, justice, science, power, to his divinity, because he is himself intelligent; because he has theidea of wisdom in some beings of his own species; because he loves tofind in them ideas favourable to himself: because he esteems those whodisplay equity; because he has a knowledge, which he holds moreextensive in some individuals than himself; in short, because he enjoyscertain faculties which depend on his own organization. He presentlyextends or exaggerates all these qualities in forming his god; the sightof the phenomena of nature, which he feels he is himself incapable ofeither producing or imitating, obliges him to make this differencebetween the being he pourtrays and himself; but he knows not at whatpoint to stop; he fears lest he should deceive himself, if he should seeany limits to the qualities he assigns, the word infinite, therefore, isthe abstract, the vague term which he uses to characterize them. He saysthat his power is infinite, which signifies that when he beholds thosestupendous effects which nature produces, he has no conception at whatpoint his power can rest; that his goodness, his wisdom, his knowledgeare infinite: this announces that he is ignorant how far theseperfections ma be carried in a being whose power so much surpasses hisown; that he is of infinite duration, because he is not capable ofconceiving he could have had a beginning or can ever cease to be;because of this he considers a defect in those transitory beings of whomhe beholds the dissolution, whom he sees are subjected to death. Hepresumes the cause of those effects to which he is a witness, of thosestriking phenomena that assail his sight, is immutable, permanent, notsubjected to change, like all the evanescent beings whom he knows aresubmitted to dissolution, to destruction, to change of form. This moverof nature being always invisible to man, his mode of action being, impenetrable, he believes that, like his soul or the concealed principlewhich animates his own body, which he calls spiritual, a spirit, is themoving power of the universe; in consequence he makes a spirit the soul, the life, the principle of motion in nature. Thus when by dint ofsubtilizing, he has arrived at believing the principle by which his bodyis moved is a spiritual, immaterial substance, he makes the spirit ofthe universe immaterial in like manner: he makes it immense, althoughwithout extent; immoveable, although capable of moving nature:immutable, although he supposes him to be the author of all the changes, operated in the universe. 

The idea of the unity of God, which cost Socrates his life, because theAthenians considered those Atheists who believed but in one, was thetardy fruit of human meditation. Plato himself did not dare to breakentirely the doctrine of _Polytheism_; he preserved Venus, an all-powerful Jupiter, and a Pallas, who was the goddess of the country. Thesight of those opposite, frequently contradictory effects, which man sawtake place in the world, had a tendency to persuade him there must be anumber of distinct powers or causes independent of each other. He wasunable to conceive that the various phenomena he beheld, sprung from asingle, from an unique cause; he therefore admitted many causes or gods, acting upon different principles; some of which he considered friendly, others as inimical to his race. Such is the origin of that doctrine, soancient, so universal, which supposed two principles in nature, or twopowers of opposite interests, who were perpetually at war with eachother; by the assistance of which he explained, that constant mixture ofgood and evil, that blending of prosperity with misfortune, in a word, those eternal vicissitudes to which in this world the human being, issubjected. This is the source of those combats which all antiquity hassupposed to exist between good and wicked gods, between an Osiris and aTyphoeus; between an Orosmadis and an Arimanis; between a Jupiter andthe Titanes; in these rencounters man for his own peculiar interestalways gave the palm of victory to the beneficent deity; this, accordingto all the traditions handed down, ever remained in possession of thefield of battle; it was so far right, as it is evidently for the benefitof mankind that the good should prevail over the wicked. 

When, however, man acknowledged only one God, he generally supposed thedifferent departments of nature were confided to powers subordinate tohis supreme orders, under whom the sovereign of the gods discharged hiscare in the administration of the world. These subaltern gods wereprodigiously multiplied; each man, each town, each country, had theirlocal, their tutelary gods; every event, whether fortunate orunfortunate, had a divine cause; was the consequence of a sovereigndecree; each natural effect, every operation of nature, each passion, depended upon a divinity, which a theological imagination, disposed tosee gods every where, mistaking nature, either embellished ordisfigured. Poetry tuned its harmonious lays, on these occasions, exaggerated the details, animated its pictures; credulous ignorancereceived the portraits with eagerness--heard the doctrines withsubmission. 

Such is the origin of Polytheism: indeed the Greek word _Theos_, [Greekletters], is derived from _Theaomai_, [Greek letters], which implies tocontemplate, or take a view of secret or hidden things. Such are thefoundations, such the titles of the hierarchy, which man establishedbetween himself and his gods, because he generally believed he wasincapable of the exalted privilege of immediately addressing himself tothe incomprehensible Being whom he had acknowledged for the onlysovereign of nature, without even having any distinct idea on thesubject: such is the true genealogy of those inferior gods whom theuninformed place as, a proportional means between themselves and thefirst of all other causes. In consequence, among the Greeks and theRomans, we see the deities divided into two classes, the one were calledgreat gods, because the whole world were nearly in accord in deifyingthe most striking parts of nature, such as the sun, fire; the sea, time, &c. These formed a kind of aristocratic order, who were distinguishedfrom the minor gods, or from the multitude of ethnic divinities, whowere entirely local; that is to say, were reverenced only in particularcountries, or by individuals; as in Rome, where every citizen had hisfamiliar spirit, called lares; and household god, called penates. Nevertheless, the first rank of these Pagan divinities, like the latter, were submitted to Fate, that is, to destiny, which obviously is nothingmore than nature acting by immutable, rigorous, necessary laws; thisdestiny was looked upon as the god of gods; it is evident, that this wasnothing more than necessity personified; that therefore it was aweakness in the heathens to fatigue with their sacrifices, to solicitwith their prayers, those divinities whom they themselves believed weresubmitted to the decrees of an inexorable destiny, of which it was neverpossible for them to alter the mandates. _But man_, generally, _ceasesto reason, whenever his theological notions are either brought intoquestion, or are the subject of his inquiry_. 

What has been already said, serves to show the common source of thatmultitude of intermediate powers, subordinate to the gods, but superiorto man, with which he filled the universe: they were venerated under thenames of nymphs, demi-gods, angels, daemons, good and evil genii, spirits, heroes, saints, &c. Among the Romans they were called _Deimedioxumi_, intermediate angels; they were looked upon as intercessors, as mediators, as powers whom it was necessary to reverence, in ordereither to obtain their favour, appease their anger, or divert theirmalignant intentions; these constitute different classes of intermediatedivinities, who became either the foundation of their hopes, the objectof their fears, the means of consolation, or the source of dread tothose very mortals who only invented them when they found it impossibleto form to themselves distinct, perspicuous ideas of theincomprehensible Being who governed the world in chief; or when theydespaired of being able to hold communication with him directly. 

Meditation and reflection diminished the number of those deities whichcomposed the ethnic polytheism: some who gave the subject moreconsideration than others, reduced the whole to one all-powerfulJupiter; but still they painted this being in the most hideous colours, gave him the most revolting features, because they were stillobstinately bent on making man, his action and his passions, the model:this folly led them into continual perplexities, because it heapedtogether contradictory, incompatible, extravagant qualities; it wasquite natural it should do so: the limited views, the superficialknowledge, the irregular desires of frail, feeble mortals, were butlittle calculated to typify the mind of the real Divinity; of that great_Cause of causes_, that _Parent of parents_, from whom every thing musthave emanated. Although they persuaded themselves it was sinning to givehim rivals, yet they described him as a jealous monarch who could notbear a division of empire; thus taking the vanity of earthly princes fortheir emblem, as if it was possible such a being could have a competitorlike a terrestrial monarch. Not having contemplated the immutable lawswith which he has invested nature, to which every thing it contains issubjected, which are the result of the most perfect wisdom, they werepuzzled to account for the contrariety of those effects which their weakminds led them to suppose as evils; seeing that sometimes those whofulfilled in the most faithful manner their duties in this life, wereinvolved in the same ruin with the boldest, the most inconsiderateviolaters: thus in making him the immediate agent, instead of the firstauthor, the executive instead of the formative power, they caused him toappear capricious, as unreasonably vindictive against his creatures, when they ought to have known that his wisdom was unlimited, hiskindness without bounds, when he infused into nature that power whichproduces these apparently contradictory effects; which, although theyseem injurious to man's interests, are, if he was but capacitated tojudge fairly, the most beneficial advantages that he can possiblyderive. Thus they made the Divinity appear improvident, by continuallyemploying him to destroy the work of his own hands: they, in fact, taxedhim with impotence, by the perpetual non-performance of those projectsof which their own imbecillity, their own erring judgment, had vainlysupposed him to be the contriver. 

To solve these difficulties, man created enemies to the Divinity, whoalthough subordinate to the supreme God, were nevertheless competent todisturb his empire, to frustrate his views. Can any thing be worseconceived, can any thing be more truly derogatory to the great _Parentof parents_, than thus to make him resemble a king, who is surroundedwith adversaries, willing to dispute with him his diadem? Such, however, is the origin of the _Fable of the Titanes_, or of the _rebelliousangels_, whose presumption caused them to be plunged into the abyss ofmisery--who were changed into _demons_, or into evil genii: theseaccording to their mythology, had no other functions, than to renderabortive the projects of the Divinity; to seduce, to raise to rebellion, those who were his subjects. Miserable invention, feeble subterfuge, forthe vices of mankind, although decorated with all the beauty oflanguage. Can then sublimity of versification, the harmony of numbers, reconcile man to the idea that the puny offspring of natural causes isadequate for a single instant to dispute the commands, to thwart thedesires, to render nugatory the decrees of a Being whose wisdom is ofthe most polished perfection; whose goodness is boundless; whose powermust be more capacious than the human mind can possibly conceive?

In consequence of this _Fable of the Titanes_, the monarch of nature wasrepresented as perpetually in a scuffle with the enemies he had himselfcreated; as unwilling totally to subdue those with whom these fabulistshave described him as dividing his authority--partaking his supremepower. This again was borrowed from the conduct of earthly monarchs, who, when they find a potent enemy, make a treaty with him; but this wasquite unnecessary for the great _Cause of causes_; and only shows thatman is utterly incapable of forming any other ideas than those which hederives from the situation of those of his own race, or of the beings bywhom he is surrounded. According to this fable the subjects of theuniversal Monarch were never properly submitted to his authority; likean earthly king, he was in a continual state of hostility, and punishedthose who had the misfortune to enter into the conspiracies of theenemies of his glory: seeing that human legislators put forth laws, issued decrees, they established similar institutions for the Divinity;established oracles; his ministers pretended, through these mysteriousmediums, to convey to the people his heavenly mandates, to unveil hisconcealed intentions: the ignorant multitude received these withoutexamination, they did not perceive that it was man, and not theDivinity, who thus spoke to them; they did not feel that it must beimpossible for weak creatures to act contrary to the will of God. 

The _Fable of the Titanes, or rebellious angels_, is extremely ancient;very generally diffused over the world; it serves for the foundation ofthe theology of the Brachmins of Hindostan: according to these, allliving bodies are animated by _fallen angels_, who under these formsexpiate their rebellion. These contradictory notions were the basis ofnearly all the superstitions of the world; by these means they imaginedthey accounted for the origin of evil--demonstrated the cause why thehuman species experience misery. In short, the conduct of the mostarbitrary tyrants of the earth was but too frequently brought forth, toooften acted upon, in forming the character of the Divinity, held forthto the worship of man: their imperfect jurisprudence was the source fromwhence they drew that which they ascribed to their god. Pagan theologywas remarkable for displaying in the character of their divinities themost dissolute vices; for making them vindictive; for causing them topunish with extreme rigour those, crimes which the oracles predicted; todoom to the most lasting torments those who sinned without knowing theirtransgression; to hurl vengeance on those who were ignorant of theirobscure will, delivered in language which set comprehension at defiance;unless it was by the priest who both made and fulminated it. It was uponthese unreasonable notions, that the theologians founded the worshipwhich man ought to render to the Divinity. Do not then let us be at allsurprised if the superstitious man was in a state of continual alarm: ifhe experienced trances--if his mind was ever in the most tormentingdread; the idea of his gods recalled to him unceasingly, that of apitiless tyrant who sported with the miseries of his subjects; who, without being conscious of their own wrong, might at each moment incurhis displeasure: he could not avoid feeling that although they hadformed the universe entirely for man, yet justice did not regulate theactions of these powerful beings, or rather those of the priests; but healso believed that their elevated rank placed them infinitely above thehuman species, that therefore they might afflict him at their pleasure. 

It is then for want of considering good and evil as equally necessary;it is for want of attributing them to their true causes, that man hascreated to himself fictitious powers, malicious divinities, respectingwhom it is found so difficult to undeceive him. Nevertheless, incontemplating nature, he would have been able to have perceived, that_physical evil_ is a necessary consequence of the peculiar properties ofsome beings; he would have acknowledged that plague, contagion, disease, are due to physical causes under particular circumstances; tocombinations, which, although extremely natural, are fatal to hisspecies; he would have sought--in the bosom of nature herself theremedies suitable to diminish these evils, or to have caused thecessation of those effects under which he suffered: he would have seenin like manner that _moral evil_ was the necessary consequence ofdefective institutions; that it was not to the Divinity, but to theinjustice of his fellows he ought to ascribe those wars, that poverty, those famines, those reverses of fortune, those multitudinouscalamities, those vices, those crimes, under which he so frequentlygroans. Thus to rid himself of these evils he would not have uselesslyextended his trembling hands towards shadows incapable of relieving him;towards beings who were not the authors of his sorrows; he would havesought remedies for these misfortunes in a more rational administrationof justice--in more equitable laws--in more I reasonable institutions--in a greater degree of benevolence towards his fellow man--in a morepunctual performance of his own duties. 

As these gods were generally depicted to man as implacable to hisfrailties as they denounced nothing but the most dreadful punishmentsagainst those who involuntarily offended, it is not at all surprisingthat the sentiment of fear prevailed over that of love: the gloomy ideaspresented to his mind were calculated to make him tremble, withoutmaking him better; an attention to this truth will serve to explain thefoundation of that fantastical, irrational, frequently cruel worship, which was paid to these divinities; he often committed the most cruelextravagancies against his own person, the most hideous crimes againstthe person of others, under the idea that in so doing, he disarmed theanger, appeased the justice, recalled the clemency, deserved the mercyof his gods. 

In general, the superstitious systems of man, his human and othersacrifices, his prayers, his ceremonies, his customs; have had only fortheir object either to divert the fury of his gods, whom he believed hehad offended; to render them propitious to his own selfish views; or toexcite in them that good disposition towards himself, which his ownperverse mode of thinking made him imagine they bestowed exclusively onothers: on the other hand, the efforts, the subtilties of theology, haveseldom had any other end, than to reconcile in the divinities it haspourtrayed, those discordant ideas which its own dogmas has raised inthe minds of mortals. From what has preceded, it may fairly be concludedthat ethnic theology undermined itself by its own inconsistencies; thatthe art of composing chimeras may therefore with great justice bedefined to be that of combining those qualities which are impossible tobe reconciled with each other. 

CHAP. III. 

_Of the confused and contradictory Ideas of Theology. _

Every thing that has been said, proves pretty clearly, that, in despiteof all his efforts, man has never been able to prevent himself fromdrawing together from his own peculiar nature, the qualities he hasassigned to the Being who governs the universe. The contradictionsnecessarily resulting from the incompatible assemblage of these humanqualities, which cannot become suitable to the same subject, seeing thatthe existence of one destroys the existence of the other, have beenshewn:--the theologians themselves have felt the insurmountabledifficulties which their divinities presented to reason: they were sosubstantive, that as they felt the impossibility of withdrawingthemselves out of the dilemma, they endeavoured to prevent man fromreasoning, by throwing his mind into confusion--by continuallyaugmenting the perplexity of those ideas, already so discordant, whichthey offered him of the gods. By these means they enveloped them inmystery, covered them with dense clouds, rendered them inaccessible tomankind: thus they themselves became the interpreters, the masters ofexplaining, according either to their fancy or their interest, the waysof those enigmatical beings they made him adore. For this purpose theyexaggerated them more and more--neither time nor space, nor the entireof nature could contain their immensity--every thing became animpenetrable mystery. Although man has originally borrowed from himselfthe traits, the colours, the primitive lineaments of which he composedhis gods; although he has made them jealous, powerful, vindictivemonarchs, yet his theology, by force of dreaming, entirely lost sight ofhuman nature. In order to render his divinities still more differentfrom their creatures, it assigned them, over and above the usualqualities of man, properties so marvellous, so uncommon, so far removedfrom every thing of which his mind could form a conception, that he lostsight of them himself. From thence he persuaded himself these qualitieswere divine, because he could no longer comprehend them; he believedthem worthy of his gods, because no man could figure to himself any onedistinct idea of them. Thus theology obtained the point of persuadingman he must believe that which he could not conceive; that he mustreceive with submission improbable systems; that he must adopt, withpious deference, conjectures contrary to his reason; that this reasonitself was the most agreeable sacrifice he could make on the altars ofhis gods, who were unwilling he should use the gift they had bestowedupon him. In short, it had made mortals implicitly believe that theywere not formed to comprehend the thing of all others the most importantto themselves. Thus it is evident that superstition founded its basisupon the absurd principle that man is obliged to accredit firmly thatwhich he is in the most complete impossibility of comprehending. On theother hand, man persuaded himself that the gigantic, the trulyincomprehensible attributes which were assigned to these celestialmonarchs, placed between them and their slaves a distance so immense, that these could not be by any means offended with the comparison; thatthese distinctions rendered them still greater; made them more powerful, more marvellous, more inaccessible to observation. Man always entertainsthe idea, that what he is not in a condition to conceive, is much morenoble, much wore respectable, than that which he has the capacity tocomprehend. The more a thing is removed from his reach, the morevaluable it always appears. 

These prejudices in man for the marvellous, appear to have been thesource that gave birth to those wonderful, unintelligible qualities withwhich superstition clothed these divinities. The invincible ignorance ofthe human mind, whose fears reduced him to despair, engendered thoseobscure, vague notions, with which mythology decorated its gods. Hebelieved he could never displease them, provided he rendered themincommensurable; impossible to be compared with any thing, of which hehad a knowledge; either with that which was most sublime, or that whichpossessed the greatest magnitude, From hence the multitude of negativeattributes with which ingenious dreamers have successively embellishedtheir phantoms, to the end that they might more surely form a beingdistinguished from all others, or which possessed nothing in common withthat which the human mind had the faculty of being acquainted with: theydid not perceive that after all their endeavours, it was nothing worethan exaggerated human qualities, which they thus heaped together, withno more skill than a painter would display who should delineate all themembers of the body of the same size, taking a giant for dimension. 

The theological attributes with which metaphysicians decorated thesedivinities, were in fact nothing but pure negations of the qualitiesfound in man, or in those beings of which he has a knowledge; by theseattributes their gods were supposed exempted from every thing which theyconsidered weakness or imperfection in him, or in the beings by whom heis surrounded: they called every quality infinite, which has been shewnis only to affirm, that unlike man, or the beings with whom he isacquainted, it is not circumscribed by the limits of space; this, however, is what he can never in any manner comprehend, because he ishimself finite. Hobbes in his _Leviathan_, says, "whatsoever we imagineis finite. Therefore there is no idea, or conception of any thing wecall infinite. No man can have in his mind an image of infinitemagnitude, nor conceive infinite swiftness, infinite time, infiniteforce, or infinite power. When we say any thing is infinite, we signifyonly, that we are not able to conceive the ends and bound of the thingnamed, having no conception of the thing, but of our own inability. "Sherlock says, "the word infinite is only a negation, which signifiesthat which has neither end, nor limits, nor extent, and, consequently, that which has no positive and determinate nature, and is thereforenothing;" he adds, "that nothing but custom has caused this word to beadopted, which without that, would appear devoid of sense, and acontradiction. "

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 theywill never have an end: to say they are immutable, is to say, thatunlike himself or every thing which he sees, they are not subject tochange: to say they are immaterial, is to advance, that their substanceor essence is of a nature not conceivable by himself, but which mustfrom that very circumstance be totally different from every thing ofwhich he has cognizance. 

It is from the confused collection of these negative qualities, that hasresulted the theological gods; those metaphysical wholes of which it isimpossible for man to form to himself any correct idea. In theseabstract beings every thing is infinity, --immensity, --spirituality, --omniscience, --order, --wisdom, --intelligence, --omnipotence. In combiningthese vague terms, or these modifications, the ethnic priests believedthey formed something, they extended these qualities by thought, andthey imagined they made gods, whilst they only composed chimeras. Theyimagined that these perfections or these qualities must be suitable totheir gods, because they were not suitable to any thing of which theyhad a knowledge; they believed that incomprehensible beings must haveinconceivable qualities. These were the materials of which theologyavailed itself to compose those inexplicable shadows before which theycommanded the human race to bend the knee. 

Nevertheless, experience soon proved that beings so vague, so impossibleto be conceived, so incapable of definition, so far removed from everything of which man could have any knowledge, were but little calculatedto fix his restless views; his mind requires to be arrested by qualitieswhich he is capacitated to ascertain; of which he is in a condition toform a judgment. Thus after it had subtilized these metaphysical gods, after it had rendered them so different in idea, from every thing thatacts upon the senses, theology found itself under the necessity of againassimilating them to man, from whom it had so far removed them: ittherefore again made them human by the moral qualities which it assignedthem; it felt that without this it would not be able to persuade mankindthere could possibly exist any relation between him and such vague, ethereal, fugitive, incommensurable beings; that it would never becompetent to secure for them his adoration. 

It began to perceive that these marvellous gods were only calculated toexercise the imagination of some few thinkers, whose minds wereaccustomed to labour upon chimerical subjects, or to take words forrealities; in short it found, that for the greater number of thematerial children of the earth it was necessary to have gods moreanalogous to themselves, more sensible, more known to them. Inconsequence these divinities were re-clothed with human qualities;theology never felt the incompatibility of these qualities with beingsit had made essentially different from man, who consequently couldneither have his properties, nor be modified like himself. It did notsee that gods who were immaterial, destitute of corporeal organs, wereneither able to think nor to act as material beings, whose peculiarorganizations render them susceptible of the qualities, the feelings thewill, the virtues, that are found in them. The necessity it felt toassimilate the gods to their worshippers, to make an affinity betweenthem, made it pass over without consideration these palpablecontradictions--this want of keeping in their portrait: thus ethnictheology obstinately continued to unite those incompatible qualities, that discrepancy of character, which the human mind attempted in vaineither to conceive or to reconcile: according to it, pure spirits werethe movers of the material world; immense beings were enabled to occupyspace, without however excluding nature; immutable deities were thecauses of those continual changes operated in the world: omnipotentbeings did not prevent those evils which were displeasing to them; thesources of order submitted to confusion: in short, the wonderfulproperties of these theological beings every moment contradictedthemselves. 

There is not less discrepancy, less incompatibility, less discordance inthe human perfections, less contradiction in the moral qualitiesattributed to them, to the end that man might be enabled to form tohimself some idea of these beings. These were all said to be _eminently_possessed by the gods, although they every moment contradicted eachother: by this means they formed a kind of patch-work character, heterogeneous beings, discrepant phenomena, entirely inconceivable toman, because nature had never constructed any thing like them, wherebyhe was enabled to form a judgment. Man was assured they were eminentlygood--that it was visible in all their actions. Now goodness is a knownquality, recognizable in some beings of the human species; this is, above every other, a property he is desirous to find in all those uponwhom he is in a state of dependence; but he is unable to bestow thetitle of good on any among his fellows, except their actions produce onhim those effects which he approves--that he finds in unison with hisexistence--in conformity with his own peculiar modes of thinking. It wasevident, according to this reasoning, these ethnic gods did not impresshim with this idea; they were said to be equally the authors of hispleasures, as of his pains, which were to be either secured or avertedby sacrifices: thus when man suffered by contagion, when he was thevictim of shipwreck, when his country was desolated by war, when he sawwhole nations devoured by rapacious earthquakes, when he was a prey tothe keenest sorrows, he at least was unable to conceive the bounty ofthose beings. How could he perceive the beautiful order which they hadintroduced into the world, while he groaned under such a multitude ofcalamities? How was he able to discern the beneficence of men whom hebeheld sporting as it were with his species? How could he conceive theconsistency of those who destroyed that which he was assured they hadtaken 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 hebeholds as a necessary consequence of her primitive impulse--that likethe rest of nature he was himself subjected to the general operation--that no peculiar exemption had been made in his behalf--that sacrificeswere useless--that the great _Parent of parents_, equally mindful of allhis creatures, had set in action with the most consummate wisdom aninvariable system, the apparent, casual evils of which were evercounterbalanced by the resulting good; that without repining, it was hisduty, his interest, to submit; at the same time to examine withsedulity, to search with earnestness, into the recesses of this naturefor 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 hissufferings to the malicious interference of inferior deities, soderogatory to the divine majesty of the _Great Cause of causes_, norwould he have taxed with either inconsistency or unkindness, that naturewhich cannot act otherwise than she does. Perhaps of all the ideas thatcan be infused into the mind of man, none is more really subversive ofhis true happiness, none more incompatible with the reality of things, than that which persuades him he is himself a privileged being, the kingof a nature where every thing is submitted to laws, the extent of whichhis finite mind cannot possibly conceive. Even admitting it shouldultimately turn out to be a fact, he has yet no one positive evidence tojustify the assumption; experience, which after all must always provethe best criterion for his judgment, daily proves, that in every thinghe is subjected, like every other part of nature, to those invariabledecrees from which nothing that he beholds is exempted. 

Feeble monarch! of whom a grain of sand, some atoms of bile, somemisplaced humours, destroy at once the existence and the reign: yet thoupretendest every thing was made for thee! Thou desirest that the entireof nature should be thy domain, and thou canst not even defend thyselffrom the slightest of her shocks! Thou makest to thyself a god forthyself alone; thou supposest that he unceasingly occupieth himself onlyfor thy peculiar happiness; thou imaginest every thing was made solelyfor thy pleasure; and, following up thy presumptuous ideas, thou hastthe audacity to call nature good or bad as thy weak intellect inclines:thou darest to think that the kindness exhibited towards thee, in commonwith other beings, is contradicted by the evil genii thy fancy hascreated! Dost thou not see that those beasts which thou supposestsubmitted to thine empire, frequently devour thy fellow-creatures; thatfire consumeth them; that the ocean swalloweth them up; that thoseelements of which thou sometimes admirest the order, which sometimesthou accusest of confusion, frequently sweep them off the face of theearth; 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 withcare, 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 theynot then according to thyself, the gods of nature--of the ocean--ofrivers--of mountains--of the earth, in which they occupiest, so verysmall a space--of all those other globes that thou seest roll in theregions of space--of those orbs that revolve round the sun thatenlighteneth thee?--Cease, then, obstinately to persist in beholdingnothing but thy sickly self in nature; do not flatter thyself that thehuman race, which reneweth itself, which disappeareth like the leaves onthe trees, can absorb all the care, can ingross all the tenderness ofthat universal being, who, according to thyself, properly understood, ruleth the destiny of all things. Submit thyself in silence to mandateswhich thy unavailing prayers; can never change; to a wisdom which thyimbecility cannot fathom; to the unerring shafts of a fate, whichnothing but thine own vanity, aided by thy perverse ignorance, couldever question, being the best possible good that can befall thee! whichif thou couldst alter, thou wouldst with thy defective judgment renderworse! What is the human race compared to the earth? What is this earthcompared to the sun? What is our sun compared to those myriads of sunswhich at immense distances occupy the regions of space? not for thepurpose of diverting thy weak eyes; not with a view to excite thy stupidadmiration, as thou vainly imaginest; since multitudes of them areplaced out of the range of thy visual organs: but to occupy the placewhich necessity hath assigned them. Mortal, feeble and vain! restorethyself to thy proper sphere; acknowledge every where the effect ofnecessity; recognize in thy benefits, behold in thy sorrows, thedifferent modes of action of those various beings endowed with such avariety of properties, which surround thee; of which the macrocosm isthe assemblage; and do not any longer suppose that this nature, muchless its great cause, can possess such incompatible qualities as wouldbe the result of human views or of visionary ideas, which have noexistence but in thyself. 

As long as theologians shall continue obstinately bent to make man themodel of their gods; as long ask they shall pertinaciously undertake toexplain the nature of these gods, which they will never be able to do, but after human ideas, although they may associate the mostheterogeneous 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 thoseobjects which impel him in a manner favourable to his actual mode ofexistence; he always finds confusion in that which fills him withgrievous sensations; he calls evil every thing that painfully affectshim, even cursorily; those beings that produce in him two modes offeeling, so very opposite to each other, he will naturally conclude aresometimes favourable, sometimes unfavourable to him; at least, if hewill not allow that they act necessarily, consequently are neither onenor the other, he will say that a world where he experiences so muchevil cannot be submitted to men who are perfectly good; on the otherhand, he will also assume that a world in which man receives so manybenefits, cannot be governed by those who are without kindness. Thus heis obliged to admit of two principles equally powerful, who are inhostility with each other; or rather, he must agree that the samepersons are alternately kind and unkind; this after all is nothing morethan avowing they cannot be otherwise than they are; in this case itwould be useless to sacrifice to them--to make solicitation; seeing itwould be nothing but _destiny_--the necessity of things submittedinvariable rules. 

In order to justify these beings, constructed upon mortal principles, from injustice, in consequence of the evils the human speciesexperience, the theologian is reduced to the necessity of calling thempunishments inflicted for the transgressions of man. But then thesegeneral calamities include all men. Some, at least, may be supposed notto have offended. Thus he involves contradictions he finds it difficultto reconcile; to effectuate this he makes his _anthropomorphites_immaterial--incorporeal; that is, he says they are the negation of everything of which he has a knowledge; consequently, beings who can have norelation with corporeal beings: and this avails him no better, as willbe evident by reasoning on the subject. To offend any one, is todiminish the sum of his happiness; it is to afflict him, to deprive himof something, to make him experience a painful sensation. How is itpossible man can operate on such beings; how can the physical actions ofa material substance have any influence over an immaterial substance, devoid of parts, having no point of contact. How can a corporeal beingmake an incorporeal being experience incommodious sensations? On theother hand, _justice_, according to the only ideas man can ever form ofit, supposes, a permanent disposition to render to each what is due tohim; the theologian will not admit that the beings he has jumbledtogether owe any thing to man; he insists that the benefits they bestoware all the gratuitous effects of their own goodness; that they have theright to dispose of the work of their hands according to their ownpleasure; to plunge it if they please into the abyss of misery; inshort, that their volition is the only guide of their conduct. It iseasy to see, that according to man's idea of justice, this does not evencontain the shadow of it; that it is, in fact, the mode of actionadopted by what he calls the most frightful tyrants. How then can he beinduced to call men just who act after this manner? Indeed, while hesees innocence suffering, virtue in tears, crime triumphant, vicerecompensed, and at the same time, is told the beings whom theology hasinvented are the authors, he will never be able to acknowledge them tohave _justice_. But he will find no such contradictory qualities innature, where every thing is the result of immutable laws: he will atonce perceive that these transient evils produce more permanent good;that they are necessary to the conservation of the whole, or else resultfrom modifications of matter, which it is competent for him to change, by altering his own mode of action; a lesson that nature herself teacheshim when he is willing to receive her instructions. But to form godswith human passions, is to make them appear unjust; to say that suchbeings chastise their friends for their own I good, is at once to upsetall the ideas he has either of kindness or unkindness: thus theincompatible human qualities ascribed to these beings, do in factdestroy their existence. If it be insisted they have the knowledge andpower of man, only that they are more extended, then it becomes a verynatural reply, to say, since they know every thing, they ought at leastto restrain mischief; because this would be the observation of man uponthe action of his fellows;--if it be urged these qualities are similarto the same qualities possessed by man, then it may be fairly asked inwhat do they differ? To this, if any answer be given, be what it may, itwill still be only changing the language: it will be invariably anothermethod of expressing the same thing; seeing that man with all hisingenuity, will never be able to describe properties but after himselfor those of the beings by whom he is surrounded. 

Where is the man filled with kindness, endowed with humanity, who doesnot desire with all his heart to render his fellow creatures happy? Ifthese beings, as the theologians assert, really have man's qualitiesaugmented, would they not, by the same reasoning, exercise theirinfinite power to render them all happy? Nevertheless, in despite ofthese theologists, we scarcely find any one who is perfectly satisfiedwith his condition on earth: for one mortal that enjoys, we behold athousand who suffer; for one rich man who lives in the midst ofabundance, there are thousands of poor who want common necessaries:whole nations groan in indigence, to satisfy the passions of someavaricious princes, of some few nobles, who are not thereby renderedmore contented--who do not acknowledge themselves more fortunate on thataccount. In short, under the dominion of these beings, the earth isdrenched with the tears of the miserable. What must be the inferencefrom all this? That they are either negligent of, or incompetent to, hishappiness. But the mythologists will tell you coolly, that the judgmentsof his gods are impenetrable! How do we understand this term? Not to betaught--not to be informed--impervious--not to be pierced: in this caseit would be an unreasonable question to inquire by what authority do youreason upon them? How do you become acquainted with these impenetrablemysteries? Upon what foundation do you attribute virtues which youcannot penetrate? What idea do you form to yourself of a justice thatnever resembles that of man? Or is it a truth that you yourself are nota man, but one of those impenetrable beings whom you say you represent?

To withdraw themselves from this, they will affirm that the justice ofthese idols are tempered with mercy, with compassion, with goodness:these again are human qualities: what, therefore, shall we understand bythem? What idea do we attach to mercy? Is it not a derogation from thesevere rules of an exact, a rigorous justice, which causes a remissionof some part of a merited punishment? Here hinges the greatincompatibility, the incongruity of those qualities, especially whenaugmented by the word _omni_; which shews how little suitable humanproperties are to the formation of divinities. In a prince, clemency iseither a violation of justice, or the exemption from a too severe law:nevertheless, man approves of clemency in a sovereign, when its toogreat 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; theyare not competent to foresee all the circumstances of every case: thepunishments they decree are not always commensurate with the offence: hetherefore does not always think them just: but he feels very well, heunderstands distinctly, that when the sovereign extends his mercy, herelaxes from his justice--that if mercy he merited, the punishment oughtnot to take place--that then its exercise is no longer clemency, butjustice: thus he feels, that in his fellow creatures these two qualitiescannot exist at the same moment. How then is he to form his judgment ofbeings who are represented to possess both in the extremest degree? Isit not, in fact, announcing these beings to be men like ourselves, whoact with our imperfections on an enlarged scale?

They then say, well, but in the next world these idols will reward youfor all the evils you suffer in this: this, indeed, is something to lookto, if it could be contemplated alone; unmixed with all they haveformerly asserted: if we could also find that there was an unison ofthinking on this point--if there was a reasonable comprehensible view ofit held forth: but alas! here again human pleasures, human feelings, arethe basis on which these rewards are rested; only they are promised in away we cannot comprehend them; houris, or females who are to remain forever virgins, notwithstanding the knowledge of man, are so opposed toall human comprehension, so opposite to all experience, are such mysticassertions, that the human mind cannot possibly embrace an idea of them:besides this is only promised by one class of these beings; othersaffirm it will be altogether different: in short, the number of modes inwhich this hereafter reward is promised to him, obliges man to askhimself one plain question, Which is the real history of these blissfulabodes? At this question he staggers--he seeks for advice: each assureshim that the other is in error--that his peculiar mode is that whichwill really have place; that to believe the other is a crime. How is heto judge now? Take what course he will, he runs the chance of beingwrong; he has no standard whereby to measure the correctness of thesecontradictory assurances; his mind is held suspended; he feels theimpossibility of the whole being right; he knows not that which he oughtto elect! Again, they have positively asserted these beings owe nothingto man: how then is he to expect in a future life, a more real happinessthan he enjoys in the present? This they parry, by assuring him it isfounded upon their promises, contained in their revealed oracles. Granted: but is he quite certain these oracles have emanated fromthemselves? If they are so different in their detail, may there not bereasonable ground for suspecting some of them are not authentic? Ifthere is, which are the spurious, which are the genuine? By what rule ishe to guide himself in the choice; how, with his frail methods ofjudging, is he to scrutinize oracles delivered by such powerful beings--to discriminate the true from the false? The ministers of each will giveyou an infallible method, one that, is according to their ownasseveration, cannot err; that is, by an implicit belief in theparticular doctrine each promulgates. 

Thus will be perceived the multitude of contradictions, the extravaganthypotheses which these human attributes, with which theology clothes itsdivinities, must necessarily produce. Beings embracing at one time somany discordant qualities will always be undefinable--can only present atrain of ideas calculated to displace each other; they will consequentlyever remain beings of the imagination. These beings, say theirministers, created the heavens, the earth, the creatures who inhabit it, to manifest their own peculiar glory; they have neither rivals, norequals 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 itstimulates him to undertake great projects--when it determines him toperform useful actions--but it is very frequently a weakness attached tohis nature; it is nothing more than a desire to be distinguished fromthose beings with whom he compares himself, without exciting him to onenoble, one generous act. It is easy to perceive that beings who are somuch elevated above men, cannot be actuated by such a defective passion. They say these beings are jealous of their prerogatives. Jealousy isanother human passion, not always of the most respectable kind: but itis rather difficult to conceive the existence of jealousy with profoundwisdom, unlimited power, and the perfection of justice. Thus thetheologians by dint of heaping quality on quality, aggrandizing each asis added, seem to have reduced themselves to the situation of a painter, who spreading all his colours upon his canvas together, after thusblending them into an unique mass, loses sight of the whole in thecomposition. 

They will, nevertheless, reply to these difficulties, that goodness, wisdom, justice, are in these beings qualities so pre-eminent, sodistinct, have so little affinity with these same qualities in man, thatthey are totally dissimilar--have not the least relation. Admit this tobe the case, How then can he form to himself any idea of theseperfections, seeing they are totally unlike those with which he isacquainted? They surely cannot mean to insinuate that they are thereverse of every thing he understands; because that would, in effect, bring them to a precise point which would not need any explanation; itis therefore a matter of certainty this cannot be the case: then ifthese qualities, when exercised by the beings they have described, areonly human actions so obscured, so hidden, as not to be recognizable byman, How can weak mortals pretend to announce them, to have a knowledgeof them, to explain them to others? Does then theology impart to themind the ineffable boon of enabling it to conceive that which no man iscompetent to understand? Does it procure for its agents the marvellousfaculty of having distinct ideas of beings composed of so manycontradictory properties? Does it, in fact, make the theologian himselfone of these incomprehensible beings. 

They will impose silence, by saying the oracles have spoken; thatthrough these mystical means they have made themselves known to mortals. The next question would naturally be, When, where, or to whom have theseoracles spoken? Where are these oracles? An hundred voices raisethemselves in the same moment; hands of Briaraeus are immediatelystretched forth to shew them in a number of discordant collections, which each maintains, with an equal degree of vehemence, is the truecode--the only doctrine man ought to believe: he runs them over, findsthey scarcely agree in any one particular; but that in all the heaviestpenalties are denounced against those who doubt the smallest part of anyone of them. These beings of consummate wisdom are made to speak anobscure, irrational language; some of them, although their goodness isproclaimed, have been cruel and sanguinary; others, although theirjustice is held forth, have been partial, unjust, capricious; some, whoare represented as all merciful, destine to the most hideous punishmentsthe unhappy victims to their wrath: examine any one of them moreclosely, he will find that they have never in any two countries heldliterally the same language: that although they are said to have spokenin many places, that they have always spoken variously: What is thenecessary result? The human mind, incapable of reconciling such manifestcontradictions, unable to obtain from their ministers any corroborativeevidence, that is not disputed by the others, falls into the strangestperplexity; is involved in doubts, entangled in a labyrinth to which noclue is to be found. 

Thus the relations, which are supposed to exist between man and thesetheological idols, can only be founded on the moral qualities of thesebeings: if these are not known to him, if he cannot in any mannercomprehend them, they cannot by any ingenuity of argument serve him formodels. In order that they may be imitated, it is needful that thesequalities were cognizable by the being who is to imitate them. How canhe imitate that goodness, that justice, that mercy, which does notresemble either his own, or any thing he can conceive? If these beingspartake in nothing of that which forms man--if the properties they dopossess, although different, are not within the reach of hiscomprehension--if, he cannot embrace the most distant idea of them, which the theologian assures him he cannot, How is it possible he canset about imitating them? How follow a conduct suitable to please them--to render himself acceptable in their sight? What can in effect be themotive of that worship, of that homage, of that obedience, which thesebeings are said to exact--which he is informed he should offer at theiraltars, if he does not establish it upon their goodness--their veracity--their justice: in short, upon qualities which he is competent tounderstand? How can he have clear, distinct ideas of those qualities, ifthey are no longer of the same nature as those which he has learned toreverence in the beings of his own species?

To this they will reply, because none of them ever admit the least doubtof the rectitude of their own individual creed, that there can be noproportion between these idols and mortals, who are the work of theirhands; that it is not permitted to the clay to demand of the potter whohas formed it, "why ye have fashioned me thus;"--but if there can be nocommon measure between the workman and his work--if there can be noanalogy between them, because the one is immaterial, the othercorporeal, How do they reciprocally act upon each other? How can thegross organs of the one, comprehend the subtile quality of the other?Reasoning in the only way he is capable, and it surely will never beseriously argued that he is not to reason, will he not perceive that theearthen vase could only have received the form which it pleased thepotter to give; that if it is formed badly, if it is rendered inadequateto the use for which it was designed, the vase is not in this instanceto be blamed; the potter certainly has the power to break it; the vasecannot prevent him; it will neither have motives nor means to soften hisanger; it will be obliged to submit to its destiny; but he will not beable to prevent his mind from thinking the potter harsh in thuspunishing the vase, rather than by forming it anew, by giving it anotherfigure, render it competent to the purposes he intended. 

According to these notions the relations between man and thesetheological beings have no existence, they owe nothing to him, aredispensed from shewing him either goodness or justice; that man, on thecontrary, owes them every thing: but contradictions appear at everystep. If these have promised by their oracles any thing to man, it israther difficult for him to believe, that what is so solemnly promiseddoes not belong to him if he fulfils the condition of the promise. Thedifference a theologian may choose to find in these relations willhardly be convincing to a reasonable mind. The duties of man towardsthese beings can, according to their own shewing, have no otherfoundation than the happiness he expects from them: thus the relationhas a reciprocity, it is founded upon their goodness, upon theirjustice, it demands obedience on his part, a conduct suitable to thebenefits he receives. Thus, in whatever manner the theological system isviewed, it destroys itself. Will theology never feel that the more itendeavours to exaggerate the human qualities, the less it exalts thebeings it pictures; the more incomprehensible it renders them, the moreit contributes to swell its own ocean of contradictions; that to takehuman passions, mortal faculties at all, is perhaps the worst means itcan pursue to form a perfect being; but that if it must persist in thismethod, then the further they remove them from man, the more they debasehim, the more they weaken the relations subsisting between them: that inthus aggregating human properties, it should carefully abstain fromassociating in these pictures those qualities which man finds detestablein 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, toattract the voluntary homage of the human race: if, however, the canvasbe examined, we shall frequently be struck, with perceiving this theleading feature; we shall equally find a want of keeping through thewhole; that shadows are introduced, where lights ought to prevail; thatthe colouring is incongruous--the design without harmony. 

The discrepancy of conduct which theology imputes to these idols, is notless 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, desirousof 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 oftheir displeasure; sometimes they are favourable to mankind--at others, indisposed towards the human species: sometimes they are represented aspermitting crimes for the pleasure of punishing them--at others, theyexert all their power to arrest crime in its birth; sometimes they electa small number to receive eternal happiness, predestinating the rest toperpetual misery--to everlasting torments; at others, they throw openthe gates of mercy to all who choose to enter them; sometimes they arepourtrayed as destroying the universe--at others, as establishing themost beautiful order in the planet we inhabit; sometimes they are heldforth as countenancing deception--at others, as having the highestreverence for truth--as holding deceit in abomination. This, again, isthe necessary result of the human faculties, the mortal passions, thefrail qualities of which they compose the beings they hold forth to theadmiration, to the worship, to the homage of the world. 

Perhaps the most fatal consequences have arisen from founding the moralcharacter of these divinities upon that of man. Those who first had theconfidence to tell man that in these matters it was not permitted him toconsult his reason, that the interests of society demanded itssacrifice, evidently proposed to themselves to make him the sport oftheir own wantonness--to make him the blind instrument of their ownunworthiness. It is from this radical error that has sprung all thoseextravagances which the various superstitions have introduced upon theearth: from hence has flowed that sacred fury which has frequentlydeluged it with blood: here is the cause of those inhuman persecutionswhich have so often desolated nations: in short, all those horridtragedies which have been acted on the vast theatre of the world, bycommand of the different ministers of the various systems, whose godsthey have said ordained these shocking spectacles. 

The theologians themselves have thus been the means, of calumniating thegods 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 trueatheists, since they seem only to have been anxious to destroy the idolsthey themselves had raised, by the actions they have attributed to them--which has debased them in the eye of reason--rendered their existencemore than doubtful to the man of humanity. Indeed, it would require morethan human credulity to accredit the assertion that these beings evercould order the atrocities committed in their name. Every time they havebeen willing to disturb the harmony of mankind--whenever they have beendesirous to render him unsociable, they have cried out that their godsordained that he should be so. Thus they render mortals uncertain, makethe ethical system fluctuate by founding it upon changeable, capriciousidols, whom they represent much more frequently cruel and unjust, thanfilled with bounty and benevolence. 

However it may be, admitting if they will for a moment that their idolspossess all the human virtues in an infinite degree of perfection, weshall quickly be obliged to acknowledge that they cannot connect themwith those metaphysical, theological, negative attributes, of which wehave already spoken. If these beings are spirits that are immaterial, how can they be able to act like man, who is a corporeal being? Purespirits, according to the only idea man can form of them, having noorgans, no parts, cannot see any thing; can neither hear our prayers, attend to our solicitations, nor have compassion for our miseries. Theycannot be immutable, if their dispositions can suffer change: theycannot be infinite, if the totality of nature, without being them, canexist conjointly with them: they cannot be omnipotent, if they eitherpermit or do not prevent evil: they cannot be omnipresent, if they arenot every where: they must therefore be in the evil as well as in thegood. Thus in whatever manner they are contemplated, under whateverpoint of view they are considered, the human qualities which areassigned to them, necessarily destroy each other; neither can these sameproperties in any possible manner combine themselves with thesupernatural attributes given to them by theology. 

With respect to the revealed will of these idols, by means of theiroracles, far from being a proof of their good will, of theircommisseration for man, it would rather seem evidence of their ill-will. It supposes them capable of leaving mankind for a considerable seasonunacquainted with truths highly important to their interests; theseoracles communicated to a small number of chosen men, are indicative ofpartiality, of predilections, that are but little compatible with thecommon Father of the human race. These oracles were ill imagined, sincethey tend to injure the immutability ascribed to these idols, bysupposing that they permitted man to be ignorant at one time of theirwill, whilst at another time they were willing he should be instructedon the subject. Moreover, these oracles frequently predicted offencesfor which afterwards severe punishments were inflicted on those who didno more than fulfil them. This, according to the reasoning of man, wouldbe unjust. The ambiguous language in which they were delivered, thealmost impossibility of comprehending them, the inexplicable mysteriesthey contained, seemed to render them doubtful; at least they are notconsistent with the ideas man is capable of forming of infiniteperfection: but the fact clearly is, they were thus rendered capable ofapplication to the contingency of events--could be made to suit almostany circumstances: this would render it not a very improbableconjecture, that these oracles were solely delivered by the prieststhemselves. It these were tried by the only test of which he has anyknowledge--HIS REASON, it would naturally occur to the mind of man, thatmystery could never, on any occasion, be used in the promulgation ofsubstantive decrees meant to operate on the obedience, to actuate themoral conduct of man: it is quite usual with most legislators to rendertheir laws as explicit as possible, to adapt them to the meanestunderstanding; in short, it would be reckoned want of good faith in agovernment, to throw a thick, mysterious veil over the announcement ofthat conduct which it wished its citizens to adopt; they would be apt tothink such a procedure was either meant to cover its own peculiarignorance, or else to entrap them into a snare; at best, it would beconsidered as furnishing a never-failing source of dispute, which a wisegovernment would endeavour to avoid. 

It will thus be obvious, that the ideas which theology has at varioustimes, under various systems, held forth to man, have for the most partbeen confused, discordant, incompatible, and have had a general tendencyto disturb the repose of mankind. The obscure notions, the vaguespeculations of these multiplied creeds, would be matter of greatindifference, if man was not taught to hold them as highly important tohis welfare--if he did not draw from them conclusions pernicious tohimself--if he did not learn from these theologians that he must sharpenhis asperity against those who do not contemplate them in the same pointof view with himself: as he perhaps, then, will never have a commonstandard, a fixed rule, a regular graduated scale, whereby to form hisjudgment on these points--as all efforts of the imagination mustnecessarily assume divers shapes, undergo a variety of modifications, which can never be assimilated to each other, it was little likely thatmankind would at all times be able to understand each other on thissubject; much less that they would be in accord in the opinions theyshould adopt. From hence that diversity of superstitions which in allages have given rise to the most irrational disputes; which haveengendered the most sanguinary wars; which have caused the mostbarbarous massacres; which have divided man from his fellow by the mostrancorous animosities, that will perhaps never be healed; because he hasbeen impelled to consider the peculiar tenets he adopted, not only asimmediately essential to his individual welfare, but also as intimatelyconnected with the happiness, closely interwoven with the tranquillityof the nation of which he was a citizen. That such contrariety ofsentiment, such discrepancy of opinion should exist, is not in the leastsurprising; it is, in fact, the natural result of those physical causesto which, as long as he exists, he is at all times submitted. The man ofa heated imagination cannot accommodate himself to the god of aphlegmatic, tranquil being: the infirm, bilious, discontented, angrymortal, cannot view him under the same aspect as he who enjoys a sounderconstitution, --as the individual of a gay turn, who enjoys the blessingof content, who wishes to live in peace. An equitable, kind, compassionate, tender-hearted man, will not delineate to himself thesame portrait of his god, as the man who is of an harsh, unjust, inflexible, wicked character. Each individual will modify his god afterhis own peculiar manner of existing, after his own mode of thinking, according to his particular mode of feeling. A wise, honest, rationalman will always figure to himself his god as humane and just. 

Nevertheless, as fear usually presided at the formation of those idolsman set up for the object of his worship; as the ideas of these beingswere generally associated with that of terror as the recollections ofsufferings, which he attributed to them, often made him tremble;frequently awakened in his mind the most afflicting, reminiscence; as itsometimes filled him with inquietude, sometimes inflamed hisimagination, sometimes overwhelmed him with dismay, the experience ofall ages proves, that these vague idols became the most important of allconsiderations--was the affair which most seriously occupied the humanrace: that they every where spread consternation--produced the mostfrightful ravages, by the delirious inebriation resulting from theopinions with which they intoxicated the mind. Indeed, it is extremelydifficult to prevent habitual fear, which of all human passions is themost incommodious, from becoming a dangerous leaven; which in the longrun will sour, exasperate, and give malignancy to the most moderatetemperament. 

If a misanthrope, in hatred of his race, had formed the project ofthrowing man into the greatest perplexity, --if a tyrant, in theplenitude of his unruly desire to punish, had sought out the mostefficacious means; could either the one or the other have imagined thatwhich was so well calculated to gratify their revenge, as thus to occupyhim unceasingly with objects not only unknown to him, but which no twoof them should ever see with precisely the same eyes; whichnotwithstanding they should be obliged to contemplate as the centre ofall their thoughts--as the only model of their conduct--as the end ofall their actions--as the subject of all their research--as a thing ofmore importance to them than life itself; upon which all their presentfelicity, all their future happiness, must necessarily depend? Couldthe gods themselves, in their solicitude to punish the impiousPrometheus, for having stolen fire from the sun, have imagined a morecertain method of executing their wishes? Was not Pandora's box, thoughstuffed with evils, trifling when compared with this? That at least lefthope, to the unfortunate Epimetheus; this effectually cut it off. 

If man was subjected to an absolute monarch, to a sultan who should keephimself secluded from his subjects; who followed no rule but his owndesires; who did not feel himself bound by any duty; who could for everpunish the offences committed against him; whose fury it was easy toprovoke; who was irritated even by the ideas, the thoughts of hissubjects; whose displeasure might be incurred without even their ownknowledge; the name of such a sovereign would assuredly be sufficient tocarry trouble, to spread terror, to diffuse consternation into the verysouls of those who should hear it pronounced; his idea would haunt themevery where--would unceasingly afflict them--would plunge them intodespair. What tortures would not their mind endure to discover thisformidable being, to ascertain the secret of pleasing him! What labourwould not their imagination bestow, to discover what mode of conductmight be able to disarm his anger! What fears would assail them, lestthey might not have justly hit upon the means of assuaging his wrath!What disputes would they not enter into upon the nature, the qualitiesof a ruler, equally unknown to them all! What a variety of means wouldnot be adopted, to find favour in his eyes; to avert his chastisement!

Such is the history of the effects superstition has produced upon theearth. Man has always been panic-struck, because the systems adoptednever enable him to form any correct opinion, any fixed ideas, upon asubject so material to his happiness; because every thing conspiredeither to give his ideas a fallacious turn, or else to keep his mind inthe most profound ignorance; when he was willing to set himself right, when he was sedulous to examine the path which conducted to hisfelicity, when he was desirous of probing opinions so consequential tohis peace, involving so much mystery, yet combining both his hopes andhis fears, he was forbidden to employ the only proper method, --HISREASON, guided by his experience; he was assured this would be anoffence the most indelible. If he asked, Wherefore his reason had thenbeen given him, since he was not to use it in matters of such highbehest? he was answered, those were mysteries of which none but theinitiated could be informed; that it sufficed for him to know, that thereason which he seemed so highly to prize, which he held in so muchesteem, was his most dangerous enemy--his most inveterate, mostdetermined foe. Where can be the propriety of such an argument? Can itreally be that reason is dangerous? If so, the Turks are justified intheir predilection for madmen: but to proceed, he is told that he mustbelieve in the gods, not question the mission of their priests; inshort, that he had nothing to do with the laws they imposed, but to obeythem: when he then required that these laws might at least be madecomprehensible to him; that he might be placed in a capacity tounderstand them; the old answer was returned, that they were_mysteries_; he must not inquire into them. But where is the necessityfor mystery in points of such vast importance? He might, indeed, fromtime to time consult these oracles, when he was able to make thesacrifices 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 thesame oracles delivered different opinions: thus he had nothing, steady;nothing permanent, whereby to guide his steps; like a blind man left tohimself in the streets, he was obliged to grope his way at the peril ofhis existence. This will serve to shew the urgent necessity there is fortruth to throw its radiant lustre on systems big with so muchimportance; that are so calculated to corroborate the animosities, toconfirm the bitterness of soul, between those whom nature intendedshould always act as brothers. 

By the magical charms with which these idols were surrounded, the humanspecies has remained either as if it was benumbed, in a state of stupidapathy, or else he has become furious with fanaticism: sometimes, desponding with fear, man cringed like a slave who bends under thescourge of an inexorable master, always ready to strike him; he trembledunder a yoke made too ponderous for his strength: he lived in continualdread of a vengeance he was unceasingly striving to appease, withoutever knowing when he had succeeded: as he was always bathed in tears, continually enveloped in misery--as he was never permitted to lose sightof his fears--as he was continually exhorted to nourish his alarm, hecould neither labour for his own happiness nor contribute to that ofothers; nothing could exhilirate him; he became the enemy of himself, the persecutor of his fellow-creatures, because his felicity here belowwas interdicted; he passed his time in heaving the most bitter sighs;his reason being forbidden him, he fell into either a state of infancyor delirium, which submitted him to authority; he was destined to thisservitude from the hour he quitted his mother's womb, until that inwhich he was returned to his kindred dust; tyrannical opinion bound himfast in her massive fetters; a prey to the terrors with which he wasinspired, he appeared to have come upon the earth for no other purposethan to dream--with no other desire than to groan--with no other motivesthan to sigh; his only view seemed to be to injure himself; to deprivehimself of every rational pleasure, to embitter his own existence; todisturb the felicity of others. Thus, abject, slothful, irrational, hefrequently became wicked, under the idea of doing honour to his gods;because they instilled into his mind that it was his duty to avengetheir cause, to sustain their honour, to propagate their worship. 

Mortals were prostrate from race to race, before vain idols to whichfear had given birth in the bosom of ignorance, during the calamities ofthe earth; they tremblingly adored phantoms which credulity had placedin the recesses of their own brain, where they found a sanctuary whichtime only served to strengthen; nothing could undeceive them; nothingwas competent to make them feel, it was themselves they adored--thatthey bent the knee before their own work--that they terrified themselveswith the extravagant pictures they had themselves delineated; theyobstinately persisted in prostrating themselves, in perplexingthemselves, in trembling; they even made a crime of endeavouring todissipate their fears; they mistook the production of their own folly;their conduct resembled that of children, who having disfigured theirown features, become afraid of themselves when a mirror reflects theextravagance they have committed. These notions so afflicting forthemselves, so grievous to others, have their epoch from the calamitiesof man; they will continue, perhaps augment, until their mind, enlightened by discarded reason, illumined by truth, shall set in theirtrue colours these various systems; until reflection guided byexperience, shall attach no more importance to them, than is consistentwith the happiness of society; until man, bursting the chains ofsuperstition--recalling to mind the great end of his existence--taking arational view of that which surrounds him, shall no longer refuse tocontemplate nature under her true character; shall no longer persist inrefusing to acknowledge she contains within herself the cause of thatwonderful phenomena which strikes on the dazzled optics of man: untilthoroughly persuaded of the weakness of their claim to the homage ofmankind, he shall make one pious, simultaneous, mighty effort, and_overthrow the altars of Moloch and his priests_. 

CHAP. IV. 

_Examination of the Proofs of the Existence of the Divinity, as given byCLARKE. _

The unanimity of man in acknowledging the Divinity, is commonly lookedupon as the strongest proof of his existence. There is not, it is said, any people on the earth who have not some ideas, whether true or false, of an all-powerful agent who governs the world. The rudest savages aswell as the most polished nations, are equally obliged to recur bythought to the first cause of every thing that exists; thus it isaffirmed, the cry of Nature herself ought to convince us of theexistence of the Godhead, of which she has taken pains to engrave thenotion in the minds of men: they therefore conclude, that the idea ofGod is innate. 

Perhaps there is nothing of which man should be more sedulously carefulthan permitting a promiscuous assemblage of right with wrong--ofsuffering false conclusions to be drawn from true propositions; thiswill not improbably be found to be pretty much the case in thisinstance; the existence of the great _Cause of causes_, the _Parent ofparents_, does not, I think, admit of any doubt in the mind of any onewho has reasoned: but, if this existence did not rest upon betterfoundations than the unanimity of man on this subject, I am fearful itwould not be placed upon so solid a rock as those who make thisasseveration may imagine: the fact is, man is not generally agreed uponthis point; if he was, superstition could have no existence; the idea ofGod cannot be _innate_, because, independent of the proofs offered onevery side of the almost impossibility of innate ideas, one simple factwill set such an opinion for ever at rest, except with those who areobstinately determined not to be convinced by even their own arguments:if this idea was innate, it must be every where the same; seeing thatthat which is antecedent to man's being, cannot have experienced themodifications of his existence, which are posterior. Even if it werewaived, that the same idea should be expected from all mankind, but thatonly every nation should have their ideas alike on this subject, experience will not warrant the assertion, since nothing can be betterestablished than that the idea is not uniform even in the same town; nowthis would be an insuperable quality in an innate idea. It notunfrequently happens, that in the endeavour to prove too much, thatwhich stood firm before the attempt, is weakened; thus a bad advocatefrequently injures a good cause, although he may not be able to overturnthe rights on which it is rested. It would, therefore, perhaps, comenearer to the point if it was said, "that the natural curiosity ofmankind have in all ages, and in all nations, led him to seek after theprimary cause of the phenomena he beholds; that owing to the variationsof his climate, to the difference of his organization, the greater orless calamity he has experienced, the variety of his intellectualfaculties, and the circumstances under which he has been placed, man hashad the most opposite, contradictory, extravagant notions of theDivinity, but that he has uniformly been in accord in acknowledging boththe existence, and the wisdom of his work--NATURE. "

If disengaged from prejudice, we analyze this proof, we shall see thatthe universal consent of man, so diffused over the earth, actuallyproves little more than that he has been in all countries exposed tofrightful revolutions, experienced disasters, been sensible to sorrowsof which he has mistaken the physical causes; that those events to whichhe has been either the victim or the witness, have called forth hisadmiration or excited his fear; that for want of being acquainted withthe powers of nature, for want of understanding her laws, for want ofcomprehending her infinite resources, for want of knowing the effectsshe must necessarily produce under given circumstances, he has believedthese phenomena were due to some secret agent of which he has had vagueideas--to beings whom he has supposed conducted themselves after his ownmanner; who were operated upon by similar motives with himself. 

The consent then of man in acknowledging a variety of gods, provesnothing, except that in the bosom of ignorance he has either admired thephenomena of nature, or trembled under their influence; that hisimagination was disturbed by what he beheld or suffered; that he hassought in vain to relieve his perplexity, upon the unknown cause of thephenomena he witnessed, which frequently obliged him to quake withterror: the imagination of the human race has laboured variously uponthese causes, which have almost always been incomprehensible to him;although every thing confessed his ignorance, his inability to definethese causes, yet he maintained that he was assured of their existence;when pressed, he spoke of a spirit, (a word to which it was impossibleto attach any determinate idea) which taught nothing but the sloth, which evidenced nothing but the stupidity of those who pronounced it. 

It ought, however, not to excite any surprise that man is incapable offorming any substantive ideas, save of those things which act, or whichhave heretofore acted upon his senses; it is very evident that the onlyobjects competent to move his organs are material, --that none butphysical beings can furnish him with ideas, --a truth which has beenrendered sufficiently clear in the commencement of this work, not toneed any further proof. It will suffice therefore to say that the ideaof God is not an innate, but an acquired notion; that it is the verynature of this notion to vary from age to age; to differ in one countryfrom another; to be viewed variously by individuals. What do I say? Itis, in fact, an idea hardly ever constant in the same mortal. Thisdiversity, this fluctuation, this change, stamps it with the truecharacter of an acquired opinion. On the other hand, the strongest proofthat can be adduced that these ideas are founded in error, is, that manby degrees has arrived at perfectioning all the sciences which have anyknown objects for their basis, whilst the science of theology has notadvanced; it is almost every where at the same point; men seem equallyundecided on this subject; those who have most occupied themselves withit, have effected but little; they seem, indeed, rather to have renderedthe primitive ideas man formed to himself on this head more obscure, --tohave involved in greater mystery all his original opinions. 

As soon as it is asked of man, what are the gods before whom heprostrates himself, forthwith his sentiments are divided. In order thathis opinions should be in accord, it would be requisite that uniformideas, analogous sensations, unvaried perceptions, should every wherehave given birth to his notions upon this subject: but this wouldsuppose organs perfectly similar, modified by sensations which have aperfect affinity: this is what could not happen: because man, essentially different by his temperament, who is found undercircumstances completely dissimilar, must necessarily have a greatdiversity of ideas upon objects which each individual contemplates sovariously. Agreed in some general points, each made himself a god afterhis own manner; he feared him, he served him, after his own mode. Thusthe god of one man, or of one nation, was hardly ever that of anotherman, or of another nation. The god of a savage, unpolished people, iscommonly some material object, upon which the mind has exercised itselfbut little; this god appears very ridiculous in the eyes of a morepolished community, whose minds have laboured more intensely upon thesubject. A spiritual god, whose adorers despise the worship paid by thesavage to a coarse, material object, is the subtle production of thebrain of thinkers, who, lolling in the lap of polished society quite attheir leisure, have deeply meditated, have long occupied themselves withthe subject. The theological god, although for the most partincomprehensible, is the last effort of the human imagination; it is tothe god of the savage, what an inhabitant of the city of Sybaris, whereeffiminacy and luxury reigned, where pomp and pageantry had reachedtheir climax, clothed with a curiously embroidered purple habit of silk, was to a man either quite naked, or simply covered with the skin of abeast perhaps newly slain. It is only in civilized societies, thatleisure affords the opportunity of dreaming--that ease procures thefacility of reasoning; in these associations, idle speculators meditate, dispute, form metaphysics: the faculty of thought is almost void in thesavage, who is occupied either with hunting, with fishing, or with themeans of procuring a very precarious subsistence by dint of almostincessant labour. The generality of men, however, have not more elevatednotions of the divinity, have not analyzed him more than the savage. Aspiritual, immaterial God, is formed only to occupy the leisure of somesubtle men, who have no occasion to labour for a subsistence. Theology, although a science so much vaunted, considered so important to theinterests of man, is only useful to those who live at the expense ofothers; or of those who arrogate to themselves the privilege of thinkingfor all those who labour. This science becomes, in some polishedsocieties, who are not on that account more enlightened, a branch ofcommerce extremely advantageous to its professors; equally unprofitableto the citizens; above all when these have the folly to take a verydecided interest in their unintelligible system--in their discordantopinions. 

What an infinite distance between an unformed stone, an animal, a star, a statue, and the abstracted Deity, which theology hath clothed withattributes under which it loses sight of him itself! The savage withoutdoubt deceives himself in the object to which he addresses his vows;like a child he is smitten with the first object that strikes his sight--that operates upon him in a lively manner; like the infant, his fearsare alarmed by that from which he conceives he has either received aninjury or suffered disgrace; still his ideas are fixed by a substantivebeing, by an object which he can examine by his senses. The Laplanderwho adores a rock, --the negro who prostrates himself before a monstrousserpent, at least see the objects they adore. The idolater falls uponhis knees before a statue, in which he believes there resides someconcealed virtue, some powerful quality, which he judges may be eitheruseful or prejudicial to himself; but that subtle reasoner, called ametaphysician, who in consequence of his unintelligible science, believes he has a right to laugh at the savage, to deride the Laplander, to scoff at the negro, to ridicule the idolater, doth not perceive thathe is himself prostrate before a being of his own imagination, of whichit is impossible he should form to himself any correct idea, unless, like the savage, he re-enters into visible nature, to clothe him withqualities capable of being brought within the range of hiscomprehension. 

For the most part the notions on the Divinity, which obtain credit evenat the present day, are nothing more than a general terror diverselyacquired, variously modified in the mind of nations, which do not tendto prove any thing, save that they have received them from theirtrembling, ignorant ancestors. These gods have been successivelyaltered, decorated, subtilized, by those thinkers, those legislators, those priests, who have meditated deeply upon them; who have prescribedsystems of worship to the uninformed; who have availed themselves oftheir existing prejudices, to submit them to their yoke; who haveobtained a dominion over their mind, by seizing on their credulity, --bymaking them participate in their errors, --by working on their fears;these dispositions will always be a necessary consequence of man'signorance, when steeped in the sorrows of his heart. 

If it be true, as asserted, that the earth has never witnessed anynation so unsociable, so savage, to be without some form of religiousworship--who did not adore some god--but little will result from itrespecting the Divinity. The word GOD, will rarely be found to designatemore than the unknown cause of those effects which man has eitheradmired or dreaded. Thus, this notion so generally diffused, upon whichso much stress is laid; will prove little more than that man in allgenerations has been ignorant of natural causes, --that he has beenincompetent, from some cause or other, to account for those phenomenawhich either excited his surprise or roused his fears. If at the presentday a people cannot be found destitute of some kind of worship, entirelywithout superstition, who do not acknowledge a God, who have not adopteda theology more or less subtle, it is because the uninformed ancestorsof these people have all endured misfortunes--have been alarmed byterrifying effects, which they have attributed to unknown causes--havebeheld strange sights, which they have ascribed to powerful agents, whose existence they could not fathom; the details of which, togetherwith their own bewildered notions, they have handed down to theirposterity who have not given them any kind of examination. 

It will readily be allowed, that the universality of an opinion by nomeans proves its truth. Do we not see a great number of ignorantprejudices, a multitude of barbarous errors, even at the present day, receive the almost universal sanction of the human race? Are not nearlyall the inhabitants of the earth imbued with the idea of magic--in thehabit of acknowledging occult powers--given to divination--believers inenchantment--the slaves to omens--supporters of witchcraft--thoroughlypersuaded of the existence of ghosts? If some of the most enlightenedpersons are cured of these follies, they still find very zealouspartizans in the greater number of mankind, who accredit them with thefirmest confidence. It would not, however, be concluded by men of soundsense, in many instances not by the theologian himself, that thereforethese chimeras actually have existence, although sanctioned with thecredence of the multitude. Before Copernicus, there was no one who didnot believe that the earth was stationary, that the sun described hisannual revolution round it. Was, however, this universal consent of manupon a principle of astronomical science, which endured for so manythousand years, less an error on that account? Yet to have doubted thetruth of such a generally-diffused opinion, one that had received thesanction of so many learned men--that was clothed with the sacredvestments of so many ages of credulity--that had been adopted by Moses, acknowledged by Solomon, accredited by the Persian magi--that Elijahhimself had not refuted--that had obtained the fiat of the mostrespectable universities, the most enlightened legislators, the wisestkings, the most eloquent ministers; in short, a principle that embracedall the stability that could be derived from the universal consent ofall ranks: to have doubted, I say, of this, would at one period havebeen held as the highest degree of profanation, as the most presumptuousscepticism, as an impious blasphemy, that would have threatened the veryexistence of that unhappy country from whose unfortunate bosom such avenomous, sacrilegious mortal could have arisen. It is well known whatopinion was entertained of Gallileo for maintaining the existence of theantipodes. Pope Gregory excommunicated as atheists all those who gave itcredit. Thus each man has his God: But do all these gods exist? In replyit will be said, somewhat triumphantly, each man hath his ideas of thesun, do all these suns exist? However narrow may be the pass by whichsuperstition imagines it has thus guarded its favourite hypothesis, nothing will perhaps be more easy than the answer: the existence of thesun is a fact verified by the daily use of the senses; all the world seethe sun; no one bath ever said there is no sun; nearly all mankind haveacknowledged it to be both luminous and hot: however various may be theopinions of man, upon this luminary, no one has ever yet pretended therewas more than one attached to our planetary system. But we may perhapsbe told, there is a wide difference between that which can becontemplated by the visual organs, which can be understood by the senseof feeling, and that which does not come under the cognizance of anypart of the organic structure of man. We must confess theology here hasthe advantage; that we are unable to follow it through its devioussinuosities; amidst its meandering labyrinths: but then it is theadvantage of those who see sounds, over those who only hear them; ofthose who hear colours, over those who only see them; of the professorsof a science, where every thing is built upon laws inverted from thosecommon to the globe we inhabit; over those common understandings, whocannot be sensible to any thing that does not give an impulse to some oftheir organs. 

If man, therefore, had the courage to throw aside his prejudices, whichevery thing conspires to render as durable as himself--if divested offear he would examine coolly--if guided by reason he woulddispassionately view the nature of things, the evidence adduced insupport of any given doctrine; he would, at least, be under thenecessity to acknowledge, that the idea of the Divinity is not innate--that it is not anterior to his existence--that it is the production oftime, acquired by communication with his own species--that, consequently, there was a period when it did not actually exist in him:he would see clearly, that he holds it by tradition from those whoreared him: that these themselves received it from their ancestors: thatthus tracing it up, it will be found to have been derived in the lastresort, from ignorant savages, who were our first fathers. The historyof the world will shew that crafty legislators, ambitious tyrants, blood-stained conquerors, have availed themselves of the ignorance, thefears, the credulity of his progenitors, to turn to their own profit anidea to which they rarely attached any other substantive meaning thanthat of submitting them to the yoke of their own domination. 

Without doubt there have been mortals who have dreamed they have seenthe Divinity. Mahomet, I believe, boasted he had a long conversationwith the Deity, who promulgated to him the system of the Mussulmans. Butare there not thousands, even of the theologians, who will exhaust theirbreath, and fatigue their lungs with vociferating this man was a liar;whose object was to take advantage of the simplicity, to profit by theenthusiasm, to impose on the credulity of the Arabs; who promulgated fortruths, the crazy reveries of his own distempered imagination?Nevertheless, is it not a truth, that this doctrine of the crafty Arab, is at this day the creed of millions, transmitted to them by theirancestors, rendered sacred by time, read to them in their mosques, adorned with all the ceremonies of superstitious worship; of which theinhabitants of a vast portion of the earth do not permit themselves foran instant to doubt the veracity; who, on the contrary, hold those whodo not accredit it as dogs, as infidels, as beings of an inferior rank, of meaner capacities than themselves? Indeed that man, even if he were atheologian, would not experience the most gentle treatment from theinfuriated Mahometan, who should to his face venture to dispute thedivine mission of his prophet. Thus the ancestors of the Turk havetransmitted to their posterity, those ideas of the Divinity which theymanifestly received from those who deceived them; whose impositions, modified from age to age, subtilized by the priests, clothed with thereverential awe inspired by fear, have by degrees acquired thatsolidity, received that corroboration, attained that veteran stability, which is the natural result of public sanction, backed by theologicalparade. 

The word God is, perhaps, among the first that vibrate on the ear ofman; it is reiterated to him incessantly; he is taught to lisp it withrespect; to listen to it with fear; to bend the knee when it isreverberated: by dint of repetition, by listening to the fables ofantiquity, by hearing it pronounced by all ranks and persuasions, heseriously believes all men bring the idea with them into the world; hethus confounds a mechanical habit with instinct; whilst it is for wantof being able to recal to himself the first circumstances under whichhis imagination was awakened by this name; for want of recollecting allthe recitals made to him during the course of his infancy; for want ofaccurately defining what was instilled into him by his education; inshort, because his memory does not furnish him with the succession ofcauses that have engraven it on his brain, that he believes this idea isreally inherent to his being; innate in all his species. Iamblicus, indeed, who was a Pythagorean philosopher not in the highest repute withthe learned world, although one of those visionary priests in someestimation with theologians, (at least if we may venture to judge by theunlimited draughts they have made on the bank of his doctrines) who wasunquestionably a favourite with the emperor Julian, says, "thatanteriorly to all use of reason, the notion of the gods is inspired bynature, and that we have even a sort of feeling of the Divinity, preferable to the knowledge of him. " It is, however, uniformly by habit, that man admires, that he fears a being, whose name he has attended tofrom his earliest infancy. As soon as he hears it uttered, he withoutreflection mechanically associates it with those ideas with which hisimagination has been filled by the recitals of others; with thosesensations which he has been instructed to accompany it. Thus, if for aseason man would be ingenuous with himself, he would concede that in thegreater number of his race, the ideas of the gods, and of thoseattributes with which they are clothed, have their foundation, taketheir rise in, are the fruit of the opinions of his fathers, traditionally infused into him by education--confirmed by habit--corroborated by example--enforced by authority. That it very rarelyhappens he examines these ideas; that they are for the most part adoptedby inexperience, propagated by tuition, rendered sacred by time, inviolable from respect to his progenitors, reverenced as forming partof those institutions he has most learned to value. He thinks he hasalways had them, because he has had them from his infancy; he considersthem indubitable, because he is never permitted to question them--because he never has the intrepidity to examine their basis. 

If it had been the destiny of a Brachman, or a Mussulman, to have drawnhis first breath on the shores of Africa, he would adore, with as muchsimplicity, with as much fervour, the serpent reverenced by the Negroes, as he does the God his own metaphysicians have offered to his reverence. He would be equally indignant if any one should presumptuously disputethe divinity of this reptile, which he would have learned to veneratefrom the moment he quitted the womb of his mother, as the most zealous, enthusiastic fakir, when the marvellous wonders of his prophet should bebrought into question; or as the most subtile theologian when theinquiry turned upon the incongruous qualities with which he hasdecorated his gods. Nevertheless, if this serpent god of the Negroshould be contested, they could not at least dispute his existence. Simple as may be the mind of this dark son of nature, uncommon as may bethe qualities with which he has clothed his reptile, he still may beevidenced by all who choose to exercise their organs of sight; not sowith the theologian; he absolutely questions the existence of everyother god but that which he himself has formed; which is questioned inits turn by his brother metaphysician. They are by no means disposed toadmit the proofs offered by each other. Descartes, Paschal, and DoctorSamuel Clarke himself, have been accused of atheism by the theologiansof their time. Subsequent reasoners have made use of their proofs, andeven given them as extremely valid. Doctor Bowman published a work, inwhich he pretends all the proofs hitherto brought forward are crazy andfragile: he of course substitutes his own; which in their turn have beenthe subject of animadversion. Thus it would appear these theologians arenot more in accord with themselves than they are with Turks or Pagans. They cannot even agree as to their proofs of existence: from age to agenew champions arise, new evidence is adduced, the old discarded, ortreated with contempt; profound philosophers, subtle metaphysicians, arecontinually attacking each other for their ignorance on a point of thevery first importance. Amidst this variety of discussion, it is verydifficult for simple winds, for those who steadily search after truth, who only wish to understand what they believe, to find a point uponwhich they can fix with reliance--a standard round which they may rallywithout fear of danger--a common measure that way serve them for abeacon to avoid the quicksands of delusion--the sophistry of polemics. 

Men of very great genius have successively miscarried in theirdemonstrations; have been held to have betrayed their cause by theweakness of the arguments by which they have supported it; by the mannerin which they have attempted to establish their positions. Thus many ofthem, when they believed they had surmounted a difficulty, had themortification to find they had only given birth to an hundred others. They seem, indeed, not to be in a capacity to understand each other, orto agree among themselves, when they reason upon the nature andqualities of beings created by such a variety of imaginations, whicheach contemplates diversely, upon which the natural self-love of eachdisputant induces him to reject with vehement indignation every thingthat does not fall in with his own peculiar mode of thinking--that doesnot quadrate either with his superstition or his ignorance, or sometimeswith both. 

The opponents of Clarke charge him with begging the question in his workon _The Being and Attributes of God_. They say he has pretended to provethis existence _a priori_, which they deem impossible, seeing there isnothing anterior to the first of causes; that therefore it can only beproved _a posteriori_, that is to say, by its effects. Law, in his_Inquiry into the Ideas of Space, Time, Immensity, &c_. Has attacked himvery triumphantly, for this manner of proof, which is stated to be sovery repugnant to the school-men. His arguments have been treated withno more ceremony by Thomas D'Aquinas, John Scott, and others of theschools. At the present day I believe he is held in more respect--thathis authority outweighs that of all his antagonists together. Be that asit may, those who have followed him have done nothing more than eitherrepeat his ideas, or present his evidence under a new form. Tillotsonargues at great length, but it would be rather difficult to understandwhich side of the question he adopts on this momentous subject; whetherhe is a Necessitarian, or among the opposers of Fatalism. Speaking ofman, he says, "he is liable to many evils and miseries, which he canneither prevent or redress; he is full of wants, which he cannot supply, and compassed about with infirmities which he cannot remove, andobnoxious to dangers which he can never sufficiently provide against: heis apt to grieve for what he cannot help, and eagerly to desire what heis never able to obtain. " If the proofs of Clarke, who has drawn them upin twelve propositions, are examined with attention, I think they may befairly shielded from the reproach with which they have been loaded; itdoes not appear that he has proved his positions _a priori, _ but _aposteriori, _ according to rule. It seems clear, however, that he hasmistaken the proof of the existence of the effects, for the proof of theexistence of the cause: but here he seems to have more reason than hiscritics, who in their eagerness to prove that Clarke has not conformedto the rules of the schools, would entirely overlook the best, thesurest foundation whereon to rest the existence of the _Great Cause ofcauses, _ that _Parent of Parents_, whose wisdom shines so manifestly innature, of which Clarke's work may be said to be such a masterlyevidence. We shall follow, step by step, the different propositions inwhich this learned divine developes the received opinions upon theDivinity; which, when applied to nature, will be found to be soaccurate, so correct, as to leave no further room to doubt either theexistence or the wisdom of her great author, thus proved through her ownexistence. Dr. Clarke sets out with saying:

"_1st. Something has existed from all eternity_. "

This proposition is evident--hath no occasion for proofs. Matter hasexisted from all eternity, its forms alone are evanescent; matter is thegreat engine used by nature to produce all her phenomena, or rather itis nature herself. We have some idea of matter, sufficient to warrantthe conclusion that this has always existed. First, that which exists, supposes existence essential to its being. That which cannot, annihilateitself, exists necessarily; it is impossible to conceive that that whichcannot cease to exist, or that which cannot annihilate itself, couldever have had a beginning. If matter cannot be annihilated, it could notcommence to be. Thus we say to Dr. Clarke, that it is matter, it isnature, acting by her own peculiar energy, of which no particle is everin an absolute state of rest, which hath always existed. The variousmaterial bodies which this nature contains often change their form, their combination, their properties, their mode of action: but theirprinciples or elements are indestructible--have never been able tocommence. What this great scholar actually understands, when he makesthe assertion "that an eternal duration is now actually past, " is notquite so clear; yet he affirms, "that not to believe it would be a realand express contradiction. " We may, however, safely admit his argument, "that when once any proposition is clearly demonstrated to, be true, itought not to disturb us that there be perhaps some perplexingdifficulties on the other side, which merely for want of adequate ideasof the manner of the existence of the things demonstrated, are noteasily to be cleared. "

_2nd, "There has existed from eternity some one unchangeable andindependent Being. "_

We may fairly inquire what is this Being? Is it independent of its ownpeculiar essence, or of those properties which constitute it such as itis? We shall further inquire, if this Being, whatever it may be, canmake the other beings which it produces, or which it moves, actotherwise than they do, according to the properties which it has giventhem? And in this case we shall ask, if this Being, such as it way besupposed to be, does not act necessarily; if it is not obliged to employindispensible means to fulfil its designs, to arrive at the end which iteither has, or may be supposed to have in view? Then we shall say, thatnature is obliged to act after her essence; that every thing which takesplace in her is necessary; but that she is independent of her forms. 

A man is said to be independent, when he is determined in his actionsonly by the general causes which are accustomed to move him; he isequally said to be dependent on another, when he cannot act but inconsequence of the determination which this last gives him. A body isdependent on another body when it owes to it its existence, and its modeof action. A being existing from eternity cannot owe his existence toany other being; he cannot then be dependent upon him, except he oweshis action to him; but it is evident that an eternal or self-existentBeing contains in his own nature every thing that is necessary for himto act: then, matter being eternal, is necessarily independent in thesense we have explained; of course it hath no occasion for a mover uponwhich it ought to depend. 

This eternal Being is also immutable, if by this attribute be understoodthat he cannot change his nature; but if it be intended to infer by itthat he cannot change his mode of action or existence, it is withoutdoubt deceiving themselves, since even in supposing an immaterial being, they would be obliged to acknowledge in him different modes of being, different volitions, different ways of acting; particularly if he wasnot supposed totally deprived of action, in which case he would beperfectly useless. Indeed it follows of course that to change his modeof action he must necessarily change his manner of being. From hence itwill he obvious, that the theologians, in making their gods immutable, render them immoveable, consequently they cannot act. An immutablebeing, could evidently neither have successive volition, nor producesuccessive action; if this being hath created matter, or given birth tothe universe, there must have been a time in which he was willing thatthis matter, this universe, should exist; and this time must have beenpreceded by another time, in which he was willing that it might not yetexist. If God be the author of all things, as well as of the motion andof the combinations of matter, he is unceasingly occupied in producingand destroying; in consequence, he cannot be called immutable, touchinghis mode of existing. The material world always maintains itself bymotion, and the continual change of its parts; the sum of the beings whocompose it, or of the elements which act in it, is invariably the same;in this sense the immutability of the universe is much more easy ofcomprehension, much more demonstrable than that of an other being towhom, they would attribute all the effects, all the mutations which takeplace. Nature is not more to be accused of mutability, on account of thesuccession of its forms, than the eternal Being is by the theologians, by the diversity of his decrees. Here we shall be able to perceive that, supposing the laws by which nature acts to be immutable, it does notrequire tiny of these logical distinctions to account for the changesthat take place: the mutation which results, is, on the contrary, astriking proof of the immutability of the system which produces them;and completely brings mature under the range of this second propositionas stated by Dr. Clarke. 

_3dly, "That unchangeable and independent Being which has existed frometernity without any eternal cause of its existence, must be self-existent, that is, necessarily existing. "_

This proposition is merely a repetition of the first; we reply to it byinquiring, Why matter, which is indestructible, should not be self-existent? It is evident that a being who had no beginning, must be self-existent; if he had existed by another, he would have commenced to be;consequently he would not be eternal. 

_4thly, "What the substance or essence of that Being which is self-existent, or necessarily existing, is, we have no idea; neither is it atall possible for us to comprehend it. "_

Dr. Clarke would perhaps have spoken more correctly if he had said hisessence is impossible to be known: nevertheless, we shall readilyconcede that the essence of matter is incomprehensible, or at least thatwe conceive it very feebly by the manner in which we are affected by it;but without this we should be less able to conceive the Divinity, whowould then be impervious on any side. Thus it must necessarily beconcluded, that it is folly to argue upon it, since it is by matteralone we can have any knowledge of him; that is to say, by which we canassure ourselves of his existence, --by which we can at all guess at hisqualities. In short we must conclude, that every thing related of theDivinity, either proves him material, or else proves the impossibilityin which the human mind will always find itself, of conceiving any beingdifferent from matter; without extent, yet omnipresent; immaterial, yetacting upon matter; spiritual, yet producing matter; immutable, yetputting every thing in activity, &c. 

Indeed it must be allowed that the incomprehensibility of the Divinitydoes not distinguish him from matter; this will not be more easy ofcomprehension when we shall associate it with a being much lesscomprehensible than itself; we have some slender knowledge of it throughsome of its parts. We do not certainly know the essence of any being, ifby that word we are to understand that which constitutes its peculiarnature. We only know matter by the sensations, the perceptions, theideas which it furnishes; it is according to these that we judge it tobe either favorable or unfavourable, following the particulardisposition of our organs. But when a being does not act upon any partof our organic structure, it does not exist for us; we cannot, withoutexhibiting folly, without betraying our ignorance, without falling intoobscurity, either speak of its nature, or assign its qualities; oursenses are the only channel by which we could have formed the slightestidea of it; these not having received any impulse, we are, in point offact, unacquainted with its existence. The incomprehensibility of theDivinity ought to convince man that it is a point at which he is boundto stop; indeed he is placed in a state of utter incapacity to proceed:this, however, would not suit with those speculators who are willing toreason upon him continually, to shew the depth of their learning, --topersuade the uninformed they understand that which is incomprehensibleto all men; by which they expect to be able to submit him to their ownviews. Nevertheless, if the Divinity be incomprehensible, It would notbe straining a point beyond its tension, to conclude that a priest, ormetaphysician, did not comprehend him better than other men: it is not, perhaps, either the wisest or the surest way to become acquainted withhim, to represent him to ourselves, by the imagination of a theologian. 

_5thly, "Though the substance, or essence of the self-existent Being, isin itself absolutely incomprehensible to us, yet many of the essentialattributes of his nature are strictly demonstrable, as well as hisexistence. Thus, in the first place, the self-existent Being must ofnecessity be eternal. "_

This proposition differs in nothing from the first, except Dr. Clarkedoes not here understand that as the self-existent Being had nobeginning, he can have no end. However this may be, we must everinquire, Why this should not be matter? We shall further observe, thatmatter not being capable of annihilation, exists necessarily, consequently will never cease to exist; that the human mind has no meansof conceiving how matter should originate from that which is not itselfmatter: is it not obvious, that matter is necessary; that there isnothing, except its powers, its arrangement, its combinations, which arecontingent or evanescent? The general motion is necessary, but the givenmotion is not so; only during the season that the particularcombinations subsist, of which this motion is the consequence, or theeffect: we may be competent to change the direction, to eitheraccelerate or retard, to suspend or arrest, a particular motion, but thegeneral motion can never possibly be annihilated. Man, in dying, ceasesto live; that is to say, he no longer either walks, thinks, or acts inthe mode which is peculiar to human organization: but the matter whichcomposed his body, the matter which formed his mind, does not cease tomove on that account: it simply becomes susceptible of another speciesof motion. 

_6thly, "The self-existent Being must of necessity be infinite andomnipresent. "_

The word infinite presents only a negative idea--which excludes allbounds: it is evident that a being who exists necessarily, who isindependent, cannot be limited by any thing which is out of himself; hemust consequently be his own limits; in this sense we may say he isinfinite. 

Touching what is said of his omnipresence, it is equally evident that ifthere be nothing exterior to this being, either there is no place inwhich he must not be present, or that there will be only himself and thevacuum. This granted, I shall inquire if matter exists; if it does notat least occupy a portion of space? In this case, matter, or theuniverse, must exclude every other being who is not matter, from thatplace which the material beings occupy in space. In asking whether thegods of the theologians be by chance the abstract being which they callthe vacuum or space, they will reply, no! They will further insist, thattheir gods, who are not matter, penetrate that which is matter. But itmust be obvious, that to penetrate matter, it is necessary to have somecorrespondence with matter, consequently to have extent; now to haveextent, is to have one of the properties of matter. If the Divinitypenetrates matter, then he is material; by a necessary deduction he isinseparable from matter; then if he is omnipresent, he will be in everything. This the theologian will not allow: he will say it is a mystery;by which I shall understand that he is himself ignorant how to accountfor his own positions; this will not he the case with making nature actafter immutable laws; she will of necessity be every where, in my body, in my arm, in every other material being, because matter composes themall. The Divinity who has given this invariable system, will without anyincongruous reasoning, without any subterfuge, be also present everywhere, inasmuch as the laws be has prescribed will unchangeably actthrough the whole; this does not seem inconsistent with reason tosuppose. 

_7th, "The Self-existent Being must of necessity be but one. "_

If there he nothing exterior to a being who exists necessarily, it mustfollow that he is unique. It will be obvious that this proposition isthe same with the preceding one; at least, if they are not willing todeny the existence of the material world. 

_8th, "The self-existent and original Cause of all things, must be anintelligent being. "_

Here Dr. Clarke most unquestionably assigneth a human quality:intelligence is a faculty appertaining to organized or animated beings, of which we have no knowledge out of these beings. To have intelligence, it is necessary to think; to think, it is requisite to have ideas; tohave ideas, supposes senses; when senses exist they are material; whenthey are material, they cannot be a pure spirit, in the language of thetheologian. 

The necessary Being who comprehends, who contains, who produces animatedbeings, contains, includes, and produceth intelligence. But has thegreat whole a peculiar intelligence, which moveth it, which maketh itact, which determineth it in the mode that intelligence moves anddetermines animated bodies; or rather, is not this intelligence theconsequence of immutable laws, a certain modification resulting fromcertain combinations of matter, which exists under one form of thesecombinations, but is wanting under another form? This is assuredly whatnothing is competent absolutely, and demonstrably to prove. Man havingplaced himself in the first rank in the universe, has been desirous tojudge of every thing after what he saw within himself, because he hathpretended that in order to be perfect it was necessary to be likehimself. Here is the source of all his erroneous reasoning upon nature--the foundation of his ideas upon his gods. He has therefore concluded, perhaps not with the most polished wisdom, that it would be indecorousin himself, injurious to the Divinity, not to invest him with a qualitywhich is found estimable in man--which he prizes highly--to which heattaches the idea of perfection--which he considers as a manifest proofof superiority. He sees his fellow-creature is offended when he isthought to lack intelligence; he therefore judges it to be the same withthe Divinity. He denies this quality to nature, because he considers hera mass of ignoble matter, incapable of self-action; although shecontains and produces intelligent beings. But this is rather apersonification of an abstract quality, than an attribute of the Deity, with whose perfections, with whose mode of existence, he cannot by anypossible means become acquainted according to the fifth proposition ofDr. Clarke himself. It is in the earth that is engendered those livinganimals called worms; yet we do not say the earth is a living creature. The bread which man eats, the wine that he drinks, are not themselvesthinking substances; yet they nourish, sustain, and cause those beingsto think, who are susceptible of this modification of their existence. It is likewise in nature, that is formed intelligent, feeling, thinkingbeings; yet it cannot be rationally said, that nature feels, thinks, andis intelligent after the manner of these beings, who nevertheless springout of her bosom. 

How! cries the metaphysician, the subtilizing philosopher, what! refuseto the Divinity, those qualities we discover in his creatures? Must, then, the work be more perfect than the workman? Shall God, who made theeye, not himself see? Shall God, who formed the ear, not himself hear!This at a superficial view appears insuperable: but are the questioners, however triumphantly they may make the inquiry, themselves aware of thelength this would carry them, even if their queries were answered withthe most unqualified affirmative? Have they sufficiently reflected onthe tendency of this mode of reasoning? If this be admitted as apostulatum, are they prepared to follow it in all its extent? Supposetheir argument granted, what is to be done with all those otherqualities upon which man does not set so high a value? Are they also tobe ascribed to the Divinity, because we do not refuse him qualitiespossessed by his creatures? By a parity of reasoning we should attachfaculties that would be degrading to the Divinity. Thus it ever happenswith those who travel out of the limits of their own knowledge; theyinvolve themselves in perpetual contradictions which they can neverreconcile; which only serve to prove that in arguing upon points, onwhich universal ignorance prevails, the result is constantly that allthe deductions made from such unsteady principles, must of necessity beat war with each other, in hostility with themselves. Thus, although wecannot help feeling the profound wisdom, that must have dictated thesystem we see act with such uniformity, with such constancy, with suchastonishing power, we cannot form the most slender idea of theparticular nature of that wisdom; because if we were for an instant toassimilate it to our own, weak and feeble as it is, we should from thatinstant be in a state of contradiction; seeing we could not then avoidconsidering the evil we witness, the sorrow we experience, as adereliction of this wisdom, which at least proves one great truth, _thatwe are utterly incapable of forming an idea of the Divinity_. But incontemplating things as our own experience warrants in whatever we dounderstand, in considering nature as acting by unchangeable laws, wefind good and evil necessarily existing, without at all involving thewisdom of the great _Cause of causes_; who thus has no need to remedythat, which the further progress of the eternal system will regulate ofitself, or which industry and patient research on our parts will enableus to discover the means of futurely avoiding. 

_9th, "The self-existent and original Cause of all things, is not anecessary agent, but a being endued with liberty and choice. _"

Man is called free, when he finds within himself motives that determinehim to action, or when his will meets no obstacle to the performance ofthat to which his motives have determined him. The necessary Being ofwhich question is here made, doth he find no obstacles to the executionof the projects which are attributed to him? Is he willing, adoptingtheir own hypothesis, that evil should be committed, or can he notprevent it? In this latter case he is not free; if his will does meetwith obstacles, if he is willing to permit evil; then he suffers man torestrain his liberty, by deranging his projects; if he has not theseprojects, then they are themselves in error who ascribe them to him. Howwill the metaphysicians draw themselves out of this perplexingintricacy?

The further a theologian goes, whilst considering his gods as possessedof human qualities, as acting by mortal motives, the more he flounders--the greater the mass of contradiction he heaps together: thus if it beasked of him, can God reward crime, punish virtue, he will immediatelyanswer, no! In this answer he will have truth: but then this truth, andthe freedom which is ascribed to him, cannot, according to human ideas, exist together; because if this being cannot love vice, cannot hatevirtue, and it is evident he cannot, he is in fact not more free thanman himself. Again, God is said to have made a covenant with hiscreatures; now it is the very essence of a covenant to restrict choice;and that being must be considered a necessary agent who is under thenecessity of fulfilling any given act. As it is impossible to supposethe Divinity can act irrationally, it must be conceded that as he madethese laws, he is himself obliged to follow them: because if he was not, as we must again suppose he does nothing without a good reason, he wouldthereby imply, that the mode of action he adopted would be wiser; whichwould again involve a contradiction. The theologians fearing, withoutdoubt, to restrain the liberty of the Divinity, have supposed it wasnecessary that he should not be bound by his own laws, in which theyhave shewn somewhat more ignorance of their subject than they imagined. 

_10th, "The self-existent Being, the supreme Cause of all things, mustof necessity have infinite power. "_

As nature is adequate to produce every thing we see--as she contains thewhole united power of the universe, her power has consequently nolimits: the being who conferred this power cannot have less. But if theideas of the theologians were adopted, this power would not appear quiteso unlimited; since, according to them, man is a free agent, consequently has the means of acting contrary to this power, which atonce sets a boundary to it. An equitable monarch is perhaps nothing lessthan he is a free agent; when he believes himself bound to actconformably to the laws, which he has sworn to observe, or which hecannot violate without wounding his justice. The theologian is a man whomay be very fairly estimated neuter; because he destroys with one handwhat he establishes with the other. 

_11th, "The Supreme Cause and Author of all things, must of necessity beinfinitely wise. "_

As nature produces all things by certain immutable laws, it will requireno great difficulty to allow that she may be infinitely wise: indeed, whatever side of the argument may be taken, this fact will result as anecessary consequence. It will hardly admit of a question that allthings are produced by nature: if, therefore, we do not allow her wisdomto be first rate, it would be an insult to the Divinity, who gave herher system. If the theologian himself is to take the lead, he alsoadmits that nature operates under the immediate auspices of his gods;whatever she does, must then, according to his own shewing, be executedwith the most polished wisdom. But the theologian is not satisfied withgoing thus far: he will insist, not only that he knows what these thingsare, but also that he knows the end they have in view: this, unfortunately, is the rock he splits upon. According to his ownadmission, the ways of God are impenetrable to man. If we grant hisposition, what is the result? Why, that it is at random he speaks. Ifthese ways are impenetrable, by what means did he acquire his knowledgeof them? How did he discover the end proposed by the Deity? If they arenot impenetrable, they then can be equally known to other men as tohimself. The theologian would be puzzled to shew he has any moreprivileges in nature than his fellow mortals. Again, if he has assertedthese things to be impenetrable, when they are not so, he is then in thesituation that he has himself placed Mahomet: he is no longer worthy ofbeing attended to, because he has swerved from veracity. It certainly isnot very consistent with the sublime idea of the Divinity that he shouldbe clothed with that weak, vain passion of man, called glory: the beingwho had the faculty of producing such a system as it operated in nature, could hardly be supposed to have such a frivolous passion as we knowthis to be in our fellows: and as we can never reason but after what wedo know, it would appear nothing can be more inconsistent than thuscontinually heaping together our own feeble, inconsistent views, andthen supposing the great _Cause of causes_ acts by such futile rules. 

_12th, "The supreme Cause and Author of all things must of necessity bea being of infinite goodness, justice, and truth, and all other moralperfections, such as become the supreme governor and judge of theworld. "_

We must again repeat that these are human qualities drawn from the modelof man himself; they only suppose a being of the human species, whoshould be divested of what we call imperfections: this is certainly thehighest point of view in which our finite minds are capable ofcontemplating the Divinity: but as this being has neither species norcause, consequently no fellow creatures, he must necessarily be of anorder so different to man, that human faculties can in no wise beappropriately assigned to him. The idea of perfection, as manunderstands it, is an abstract, metaphysical, negative idea, of which hehas no archetype whereby to form a judgment: he would call that aperfect being, who, similar to himself, was wanting in those qualitieswhich he finds prejudicial to him; but such a being would after all beno wore than a man. It is always relatively to himself, to his own modeof feeling and of thinking, that a thing is either perfect or imperfect;it is according to this, that in his eyes a thing is more or less usefulor prejudicial; agreeable or disagreeable. Justice includes all moralperfections. One of the most prominent features of justice, in the ideasof man, is the equity of the relations subsisting between beings, founded upon their mutual wants. According to the theologian, his godsowe nothing to man. How then does he measure out his ideas of justice?For a monarch to say he owed nothing to his subjects, would beconsidered, even by this theologian himself, as rank injustice; becausehe would expect the fulfilment of duties on their part, withoutexercising those which devolved upon himself. Duties, according to theonly idea man can form of them, must he reciprocal. It is ratherstretching the human capabilities, to understand the relations between apure spirit and material beings--between finity and infinity--betweeneternal beings and those which are transitory: thus it is, thatmetaphysics hold forth an inconceivable being by the very attributeswith which they clothe him; for either he has these attributes, or hehas them not: whether he has them or has them not, man can onlyunderstand them after his own powers of comprehension. If he does at allunderstand them, he cannot have the slightest idea of justiceunaccompanied by duties, which are the very basis, the superstructure, the pillars upon which this virtue rests. Whether we are to view it asself-love or ignorance in the theologian, that he thus dresses up hisgods after himself, it certainly was not the happiest effort of hisimagination to work by an inverse rule: for, according to himself, thequalities he describes are all the negation of what he calls them. Doctor Clarke himself stumbles a little upon these points; he insistsupon free agency, and uses this extraordinary method to support hisargument; he says, "God is, by necessity, a free agent: and be can nomore possibly cease to be so, than he can cease to exist. He must ofnecessity, every moment choose to act, or choose to forbear acting;because two contradictories cannot possibly he true at once. Man also isby necessity, not in the nature of things, but through God'sappointment, a free agent. And it is no otherwise in his power to ceaseto be such, than by depriving himself of life. " Will Doctor Clarkepermit us to put one simple question: If to be obligated to do a certaingiven thing, is to be free, what is it to be coerced? Or if twocontradictories cannot be true at once, by what rule of logic are we tomeasure the idea of that freedom which arises out of necessity. Supposing necessity to be what Dr. Johnson, (using Milton as hisauthority) says it is, "compulsion, " "fatality, " would it be considereda man was less restrained in his actions because he was only compelledto do what was right? The restraint would undoubtedly he beneficial tohim, but it would not therefore render him more a free agent. If theDivinity cannot love wickedness, cannot hate goodness, (and surely thetheologians themselves will not pretend he can, ) then the power ofchoice has no existence as far as these two things are concerned; andthis upon Clarke's own principle, because two contradictories cannot betrue at once. Nothing could, I think, appear a greater contradiction, than the idea that the _Great Cause of causes_ could by any possibilitylove vice: if such a monstrous principle could for a moment haveexistence, there would be an end of all the foundations of religion. 

The Doctor is very little happier in reasoning upon _immateriality_. Hesays, by way of illustrating his argument, "that it is possible toinfinite power to create an immaterial cogitative substance, endued witha power of beginning motion, and with a liberty of will or choice. "Again, "that immaterial substances are not impossible; or, that asubstance immaterial is not a contradictory notion. Now, whoever assertsthat it is contradictory, must affirm that whatever is not matter isnothing; and that, to say any thing exists which is not matter, issaying that there exists something which is nothing, which in otherwords is plainly this, --that whatever we have not an idea of, isnothing, and impossible to be. " It could, I am apt to believe, neverhave entered into any reasonable mind that a thing was impossiblebecause he could have no idea of it:--many things, on the contrary, arepossible, of which we have not the most slender notion: but it does not, I presume, flow consecutively out of this admission, that thereforeevery thing is, which is not impossible. Doctor Clarke then, rather begsthe question on this occasion. In the schools it is never consideredrequisite to prove a negative; indeed, this is ranked by logiciansamongst those things impossible to be, but it is considered of thehighest importance to soundness of argument, to establish theaffirmative by the most conclusive reasoning. Taking this for granted, we will apply the doctor's own reasoning. He says, "Nothing is that ofwhich every thing, can truly be affirmed. So that the idea of nothing, if I may so speak, is absolutely the negative of all ideas; the idea, therefore, either of a finite or infinite nothing is a contradiction interms. " To affirm, of a thing with truth, it must be necessary to beacquainted with that thing. To have ideas, as we have already proved, itis necessary to have perceptions; to have perceptions, it is requisiteto have sensations; to have sensations, requires organs. An idea cannotbe, and not be, at the same moment: the idea of substance, it willscarcely be denied, is that of a thing solid, real, according to Dryden;capable of supporting accidents, according to Watts; something of whichwe can say that it is, according to Davies; body, corporeal nature, according to Newton; the idea of immaterial, according to Hooker, isincorporeal. How then am I to understand immaterial substance? Is itnot, according to these definitions, that which cannot couple together?If a thing be immaterial, it cannot be a substance; if a substance, itcannot be immaterial: those I apprehend will not have many ideas, who donot see this is a complete negative of all ideas. If, therefore, on theoutset, the doctor cannot find words, by which he can convey the idea ofthat of which he is so desirous to prove the existence, by what chain ofreasoning does he flatter himself that he is to be understood? He willendeavour to draw out of this dilemma, by assuring as there are thingswhich we can neither see nor touch, but which do not the less exist onthat account. Granted: but from thence we can neither reason upon them, nor assign them qualities; we must at least either feel them orsomething like them, before we can have any idea of them: this, however, would not prove they were not substances, nor that substances can beimmaterial. A thing may with great possibility exist of which we have noknowledge, and yet be material; but I maintain until we have a knowledgeof it, it exists not for us, any more than colours exist for a man bornblind; the man who has sight knows they do exist, can describe them tohis dark neighbour; from this description the blind man may form someidea of them by analogy with what he himself already knows; or, perhaps, having a finer tact than his neighbour, he may be enabled to distinguishthem by their surfaces; it would, therefore, be bad reasoning in the manborn blind, to deny the existence of colours; because although thesecolours may have no relation with the senses in the absence of sight, they have with those who have it in their power to see and to know them:this blind man, however, would-appear a little ridiculous if heundertook to define them with all their gradations of shade; with alltheir variations under different masses of light. Again, if those whowere competent to discriminate these modifications of matter calledcolours, were to define them to this blind man, as those modificationsof matter called sound, would the blind man be able to have anyconception of them? It certainly would not be wise in him to aver, thatsuch a thing as colorific sound had no existence, was impossible; but atleast he would be very justifiable in saying, they appearedcontradictions, because he had some ideas of sound which did not at allaid him in forming those of colour; he would not, perhaps, be veryinconclusive if he suspected the competency of his informer to thedefinition attempted, from his inability to convey to him in anydistinct, understood terms, his own ideas of colours. The theologian isa blind man, who would explain to others who are also blind, the shadesand colours of a portrait whose original he has not even stumbled uponin the dark. There is nothing incongruous in supposing that every thingwhich has existence is matter; but it requires the complete inversion ofall our ideas, to conceive that which is immaterial; because, in pointof fact, this would be a quality of which "nothing can with truth beaffirmed. "

It is, indeed true, that Plato, who was a great creator of chimeras, says, "those who admit nothing but what they can see and feel, arestupid ignorant beings, who refuse to admit the reality of the existenceof invisible things. " With all due deference to such an authority, wemay still venture to ask, is there then no difference, no shade, nogradation, between an admission of possibilities and the proof ofrealities. Theology would then be the only science in which it ispermitted to conclude that a thing is, as soon as it is possible to be. Will the assertion of either Clarke or Plato stand absolutely in placeof all evidence? Would they themselves permit such to be convincing ifused against them? The theologians evidently hold this Platonic, thisdogmatical language; they have dreamed the dreams of their master;perhaps if they were examined a little, they would be found nothing morethan the result of those obscure notions, those unintelligiblemetaphysics, adopted by the Egyptian, Chaldean, and Assyrian priests, among whom Plato drew up his philosophy. If, however, philosophy meansthat which we are led to suppose it does, by the great John Locke, it is"a system by which natural effects are explained. " Taken in this sensewe shall be under the necessity of agreeing, that the Platonic doctrinesin no wise merit this distinction, seeing he has only drawn the humanmind from the contemplation of visible nature, to plunge it into theunfathomable depths of invisibility--of intangibility--of suppositiousspeculation, where it can find little other food except chimeras orconjecture. Such a philosophy is rather fantastical, yet it would seemwe are required to subscribe to its positions without being allowed tocompare them with reason, to examine them through the medium ofexperience, to try the gold by the action of fire: thus we have inabundance the terms spirits, incorporeal substances, invisible powers, supernatural effects, innate ideas, mysterious virtues, possessed bydemons, &c. &c. Which render our senses entirely useless, which put toflight every thing like experience; while we are gravely told that"nothing is that, of which no thing can truly be affirmed. " Whoever maybe willing to take the trouble of reading the works of Plato and hisdisciples, such as Proclus, Iamblicus, Plotinus, and others, will notfail to find in them almost every doctrine, every metaphysical subjectof the theologian; in fact, the theurgy of many of the modernsuperstitions, which for the most part seems to be little more than aslight variation of that adopted by the ethnic priests. Dreamers havenot had that variety in their follies, that has generally been imagined. That some of these things should be extensively admitted, by no meansaffords proof of their existence. Nothing appears more facile than tomake mankind admit the greatest absurdities, under the imposing name ofmysteries; after having imbued him from his infancy with maximscalculated to hoodwink his reason--to lead him astray--to prevent himfrom examining that which he is told he must believe. Of this therecannot well exist a more decisive proof than the great extent ofcountry, the millions of human beings who faithfully and withoutexamination have adopted the idle dreams, the rank absurdities, of thatarch impostor Mahomet. However this may be, we shall be obliged again toreply to Plato, and to those of his followers who impose upon us thenecessity of believing that which we cannot comprehend, that, in orderto know that a thing exists, it is at least necessary to have some ideaof it; that this idea can only come to us by the medium of our senses;that consequently every thing of which our senses do not give us aknowledge, is in fact nothing for us; and can only rest upon our faith;upon that admission which is pretty generally, even by the theologianhimself, considered as rather a sandy foundation whereon to erect thealtar of truth: that if there be an absurdity in not accrediting theexistence of that which we do not know, there is no less extravagance inassigning it qualities; in reasoning upon its properties; in clothing itwith faculties, which may or may not be suitable to its mode ofexistence; in substituting idols of our own creation; in combiningincompatible attributes, which will neither bear the test of experiencenor the scrutiny of reason; and then endeavouring to make the whole passcurrent by dint of the word infinite, which we will now examine. 

Infinite, according to Dennis, means "boundless, unlimited. " DoctorClarke thus describes it:--he says, "The self-existent being must he amost simple, unchangeable incorruptible being; without parts, figure, motion, divisibility, or any other such properties as we find in matter. For all these things do plainly and necessarily imply finiteness intheir very notion, and are utterly inconsistent with complete infinity. "Ingenuously, is it possible for man to form any true notion of such aquality? The theologians themselves acknowledge he cannot. Further, theDoctor allows, "That as to the particular manner of his being infinite, or every where present, in opposition to the manner of created thingsbeing present in such or such finite places, this is as impossible forour finite understandings to comprehend or explain, as it is for us toform an adequate idea of infinity. " What is this, then, but that whichno man can explain or comprehend? If it cannot be comprehended, itcannot be detailed; if it cannot be detailed, it is precisely "that ofwhich nothing can with truth be affirmed;" and this is Dr. Clarke's ownexplanation of nothing. Indeed, is not the human mind obliged by itsvery nature to join limited quantities to other quantities, which it canonly conceive as limited, in order to form to itself a sort of confusedidea of something beyond its own grasp, without ever reaching the pointof infinity, which eludes every attempt at definition? Then it wouldappear that it is an abstraction, a mere negation of limitation. 

Our learned adversary seems to think it strange that the existence ofincorporeal, immaterial substances, the essence of which we are not ableto comprehend, should not be generally accredited. To enforce thisbelief, he says, "There is not so mean and contemptible a plant oranimal, that does not confound the most enlarged understanding, uponearth: nay, even the simplest and plainest of all inanimate beings havetheir essence or substance hidden from us in the deepest and mostimpenetrable obscurity. "

We shall reply to him, _First_, That the idea of an immaterial substance; or being withoutextent, is only an absence of ideas, a negation of extent, as we havealready shewn; that when we are told a being is not matter, they speakto us of that which is not, and do not teach us that which is; becauseby insisting that a being is such, that it cannot act upon any of oursenses, they, in fact, inform us that we have no means of assuringourselves whether such being exists or not. 

_Secondly_, We shall avow without the least hesitation, that men of thegreatest genius, of the most indefatigable research, are not acquaintedwith the essence of stones, plants, animals, nor with the secret springswhich constitute some, which make others vegetate or act: but then atleast we either feel them or see them; our senses have a knowledge ofthem in some respects; we can perceive some of their effects; we havesomething whereby to judge of them, either accurately or inaccurately;we can conceive that which is matter, however varied, however subtle, however minute, by analogy with other matter; but our senses cannotcompass that which is immaterial on any side; we cannot by any possiblemeans understand it; we have no means whatever of ascertaining itsexistence; consequently we cannot even form an idea of it; such a beingis to us an occult principle, or rather a being which imagination hascomposed, by deducting from it every known quality. If we are ignorantof the intimate combination of the most material beings, we at leastdiscover, with the aid of experience, some of their relations withourselves: we have a knowledge of their surface, their extent, theirform, their colour, their softness, their density; by the impressionsthey make on our senses, we are capable of discriminating them--ofcomparing them--of judging of them in some manner--of seeing them--ofeither avoiding or courting them, according to the different modes inwhich we are affected by them; we cannot apply any of these tests toimmaterial beings; to spirits; neither can those men who are unceasinglytalking to mankind of these inconceivable things. 

_Thirdly_, We have a consciousness of certain modifications inourselves, which we call sentiment, thought, will, passions: for want ofbeing acquainted with our own peculiar essence; for want of preciselyunderstanding the energy of our own particular organization, weattribute these effects to a concealed cause, distinguished fromourselves; which the theologians call a spiritual cause, inasmuch as itappears to act differently from our body. Nevertheless, reflection, experience, every thing by which we are enabled to form any kind ofjudgment, proves that material effects can only emanate from materialcauses. We see nothing in the universe but physical, material effects, these can only be produced by analogous causes; it is, then certainlymore rational to attribute them to nature herself, of which we may knowsomething, if we will but deign to meditate her with attention, ratherthan to spiritual causes, of which we must for ever remain ignorant, letus study them as long as we please. 

If incomprehensibility be not a sufficient reason for absolutely denyingthe possibility of immateriality, it certainly is not of a cogency toestablish its existence; we shall always be less in a capacity tocomprehend a spiritual cause, than one that is material; becausemateriality is a known quality; spirituality is an occult, an unknownquality; or rather it is a mode of speech of which we avail ourselves tothrow a veil over our own ignorance. We are repeatedly told that oursenses only bring us acquainted with the external of things; that ourlimited ideas are not capable of conceiving immaterial beings: we agreefrankly to this position; but then our senses do not even shew us theexternal of these immaterial substances, Which the theologians willnevertheless attempt to define to us; upon which they unceasinglydispute among themselves; upon which even until this day they are not inperfect unison with each other. The great John Locke in his familiarletters, says, "I greatly esteem all those who faithfully defend theiropinions; but there are so few persons who, according to the manner theydo defend them, appear fully convinced of the opinions they profess, that I am tempted to believe there are more sceptics in the world thanare generally imagined. "

Abady, one of the most strenuous supporters of immaterialism, says, "Thequestion is not what incorporeity is, but whether it be. " To settle thisdisputable point, it were necessary to have some data whereon to formour judgment; but how assure ourselves of the existence of that, ofwhich we shall never be competent to have a knowledge? If we are nottold what this is; if some tangible evidence be not offered to the humanmind; how shall we feel ourselves capacitated to judge whether or notits existence be even possible? How form an estimate of that picturewhose colours elude our sight, whose design we cannot perceive, whosefeatures have no means of becoming familiar to our mind, whose verycanvas refuses itself to our all research, of which the artist himselfcan afford no other idea, no other description, but that it is, althoughhe himself can neither shew us how or where! We have seen the ruinousfoundations upon which men have hitherto erected this fanciful idea ofimmateriality; we have examined the proofs which they have offered, ifproofs they can be called, in support of their hypothesis; we havesifted the evidence they have been willing to have accredited, in orderto establish their position; we have pointed out the numberlesscontradictions that result from their want of union on this subject, from the irreconcileable qualities with which they clothe theirimaginary system. What conclusion, then, ought fairly, rationally, consistently, to be drawn from the whole? Can we, or can we not admittheir argument to be conclusive, such as ought to be received by beingswho think themselves sane? Will it allow any other inference than thatit has no existence; that immateriality is a quality hitherto unproved;the idea of which the mind of man has no means of compassing? Still theywill insist, "there are no contradictions between the qualities whichthey attribute to these immaterial substances; but there is a differencebetween the understanding of man and the nature of these substances. "This granted, are they nearer the point at which they labour? Whatstandard is it necessary man should possess, to enable him to judge ofthese substances? Can they shew the test that will lead to anacquaintance with them? Are not those who have thus given loose to theirimagination, who have given birth to this system, themselves men? Doesnot the disproportion, of which they speak with such amazing confidence, attach to themselves as well as to others? If it needs an infinite mindto comprehend infinity--to form an idea of incorporeity--can thetheologian himself boast he is in a capacity to understand it? To whatpurpose then is it they speak of these things to others? Why do theyattempt descriptions of that which they allow to be indescribable? Man, who will never be an infinite being, will never be able to conceiveinfinity; if, then, he has hitherto been incompetent to this perfectionof knowledge, can he reasonably flatter himself he will ever obtain it;can he hope under any circumstances to conquer that which according tothe shewing of all is unconquerable?

Nevertheless it is pretended, that it is absolutely necessary to knowthese substances: but how prove the necessity of having a knowledge ofthat which is impossible to be known? We are then told that good senseand reason are sufficient to convince us of its existence: this istaking new ground, when the old has been found untenable: for we arealso told that reason is a treacherous guide; one that frequently leadsus astray; that in religious matters it ought not to prevail: at leastthen they ought to shew us the precise time when we must resume thisreason. Shall we consult it again, when the question is, whether whatthey relate is probable; whether the discordant qualities which theyunite are consistently combined; whether their own arguments have allthat solidity which they would themselves wish them to possess? But wehave strangely mistaken them if they are willing that we should recur toit upon these points; they will instead, insist we ought blindly to bedirected by that which they vouchsafe to inform us; that the mostcertain road to happiness is to submit in all things to that which theyhave thought proper to decide on the nature of things, of which theyavow their own ignorance, when they assert them to be beyond the reachof mortals. Thus it would appear that when we should consent to accreditthese mysteries, it would never arise of our own knowledge; seeing thiscan no otherwise obtain but by the effect of demonstrable evidence; itwould never arise from any intimate conviction of our minds; but itwould be entirely on the word of the theologian himself, that we shouldground our faith; that we should yield our belief. If these things areto the human species what colours are to the man born blind, they haveat least no existence with relation to ourselves. It will avail theblind man nothing to tell him these colours have no less existence, because he cannot see them. But what shall we say of that portrait whosecolours the blind man attempts to explain, whose features he is willingwe should receive upon his authority, whose proportions are to be takenfrom his description, merely because we know he cannot behold them?

The Doctor, although unwilling to relinquish his subject, removes noneof the difficulty when he asks, "Are our five senses, by an absolutenecessity in the nature of the thing, all and the only possible ways ofperception? And is it impossible and contradictory there should be anybeing in the universe, indued with ways of perception different fromthese that are the result of our present composition? Or are thesethings, on the contrary, purely arbitrary; and the same power that gaveus these, may have given others to other beings, and might, if he hadpleased have given to us others in this present state?" It seemsperfectly unnecessary to the true point of the argument to reason uponwhat can or cannot be done: I therefore reply, that the fact is, we havebut five senses: by the aid of these man is not competent to form anyidea whatever of immateriality; but he is also in as absolute a state ofignorance, upon what might be his capabilities of conception, if he hadmore senses. It is rather acknowledging a weakness in his evidence, onthe part of the Doctor, to be thus obliged to rest it upon thesupposition of what might be the case, if man was a being different towhat he is; in other words, that they would be convincing to mankind ifthe human race were not human beings. Therefore to demand what theDivinity could have done in such a case, is to suppose the thing inquestion, seeing we cannot form an idea how far the power of theDivinity extends: but we may be reasonably allowed to use thetheological argument in elucidation; these men very gravely insist, uponwhat authority must be best known to themselves, "that God cannotcommunicate to his works that perfection which he himself possesses;" atthe same moment they do not fail to announce his omnipotence. Will itrequire any capacity, more than is the common lot of a child, tocomprehend the absurd contradiction of the two assertions? As beingspossessing but five senses, we must then, of necessity, regulate ourjudgment by the information they are capable of affording us: we cannot, by any possibility, have a knowledge of those, which confer the capacityto comprehend beings, of an order entirely distinguished from that inwhich we occupy a place. We are ignorant of the mode in which evenplants vegetate, how then be acquainted with that which has no affinitywith ourselves? A man born blind, has only the use of four senses; hehas not the right, however, of assuming it as a fact, there does notexist an extra sense for others; but he may very reasonably, and withgreat truth aver, that he has no idea of the effects which would beproduced in him, by the sense which he lacks: notwithstanding, if thisblind man was surrounded by other men, whose birth had also left themdevoid or sight, might he not without any very unwarrantablepresumption, be authorized to inquire of them by what right, upon whatauthority, they spoke to him of a sense they did not themselves possess;how they were enabled to reason, to detail the minutiae of thatsensation upon which their own peculiar experience taught them nothing?

In short, we can again reply to Dr. Clarke, and to the theologians, thatfollowing up their own systems, the supposition is impossible, and oughtnot to be made, seeing that the Divinity, who according to their ownshewing, made man, was not willing that he should have more than fivesenses; in other words, that he should be nothing but what he actuallyis; they all found the existence of these immaterial substances upon thenecessity of a power that has the faculty to give a commencement tomotion. But if matter has always existed, of which there does not seemto exist a doubt, it has always had motion, which is as essential to itas its extent, and flows from its primitive properties. Indeed the humanmind, with its five senses, is not more competent to comprehend matterdevoid of motion, than it is to understand the peculiar quality ofimmateriality: motion therefore exists only in and by matter; mobilityis a consequence of its existence; not that the great whole can occupyother parts of space than it actually does; the impossibility of thatneeds no argument, but all its parts can change their respectivesituations--do continually change them; it is from thence results thepreservation, the life of nature, which is always as a whole immutable:but in supposing, as is done every day, that matter is inert, that is tosay, incapable of producing any thing by itself, without the assistanceof a moving power, which sets it in motion, are we by any means enabledto conceive that material nature receives this activity from an agent, who partakes in nothing of material substance? Can man really figure tohimself, even in idea, that that which has no one property of matter, can create matter, draw it from its own peculiar source, arrange it, penetrate it, give it play, guide its course? Is it not, on thecontrary, more rational to the mind, more consistent with truth, morecongenial to experience, to suppose that the being who made matter ishimself material: is there the smallest necessity to suppose otherwise?Can it make man either better or worse, that he should consider thewhole that exists as material? Will it in any manner make him a worsesubject to his sovereign; a worse father to his children; a more unkindhusband; a more faithless friend?

Motion, then, is co-eternal with matter: from all eternity the particlesof the universe have acted and reacted upon each other, by virtue oftheir respective energies; of their peculiar essences; of theirprimitive elements; of their various combinations. These particles musthave combined in consequence of their affinity; they must have beeneither attracted or repelled by their respective relations with eachother; in virtue of these various essences, they must have gravitatedone upon the other; united when they were analagous; separated when thatanalogy was dissolved, by the approach of heterogeneous matter; theymust have received their forms, undergone a change of figure, by thecontinual collision of bodies. In a material world the acting powersmust be material: in a whole every part of which is essentially inmotion, there is no occasion for a power distinguished from itself; thewhole must be in perpetual motion by its own peculiar energy. Thegeneral motion, as we have elsewhere proved, has its birth from theindividual motion, which beings ever active must uninterruptedlycommunicate to each other. Thus every cause produces its effect; thiseffect in its turn becomes a cause, which in like manner produces aneffect; this constitutes the eternal chain of things, which althoughperpetually changing in its detail, suffers no change in its whole. 

Theology, after all, has seldom done more than personify this eternalseries of motion; the principle of mobility inherent to matter: it hasclothed this principle with human qualities, by which it has rendered itunintelligible: in applying these properties, they have taken no meansof understanding how far they were suitable or not: in their eagernessto make them assimilate, they have extended them beyond their ownconception; they have heaped them together without any judgment; andthey have been surprised when these qualities, contradictory inthemselves, did not enable them satisfactorily to account for all thephenomena they beheld; from thence they have wrangled; accused eachother of imbecility; yet infuriated themselves against whoever had thetemerity to question that which they did not themselves understand; inshort, they have acted like a man who should insist that all other menshould have precisely the same vision that he himself had dreamed. 

Be this as it may, the greater portion of what either Dr. Clarke or thetheologians tell us, becomes, in some respects, sufficientlyintelligible as soon as applied to nature--to matter: it is eternal, that is to say, it cannot have had a commencement, it never will have anend; it is infinite, that is to say, we have no conception of itslimits. Nevertheless, human qualities, which must be always borrowedfrom ourselves, and with others we have a very slender acquaintance, cannot be well suitable to the entire of nature; seeing that thesequalities are in themselves modes of being, or modes which appertainonly to particular beings: not to the great whole which contains them. 

Thus, to resume the answers which have been given to Dr. Clarke, weshall say: _First_, we can conceive that matter has existed from alleternity, seeing that we cannot conceive it to have been capable ofbeginning. _Secondly_, that matter is independent, seeing there isnothing exterior to itself; that it is immutable, seeing it cannotchange its nature, although it is unceasingly changing its form and itscombinations. _Thirdly_, that matter is self-existent, since not beingable to conceive it can be annihilated, we cannot possibly conceive itcan have commenced to exist. _Fourthly_, that we do not know theessence, or the true nature of matter, although we have a knowledge ofsome of its properties; of some of its qualities: according to the modein which they act upon us. _Fifthly_, that matter not having had abeginning, will never have an end, although its numerous combinations, its various forms, have necessarily a commencement and a period. _Sixthly_, that if all that exists, or every thing our mind can conceiveis matter, this matter is infinite; that is to say, cannot be limited byany thing; that it is omnipresent, seeing there is no place exterior toitself, indeed, if there was a place exterior to it, that would be avacuum. _Seventhly_, that nature is unique, although its elements or itsparts may be varied to infinity, indued with properties extremelyopposite; with qualities essentially different. _Eighthly_, that matter, arranged, modified, and combined in a certain mode, produces in somebeings what we call intelligence, which is one of its modes of being, not one of its essential properties, _Ninthly_, that matter is not afree agent, since it cannot act otherwise than it does, in virtue of thelaws of its nature, or of its existence; that consequently, heavy bodiesmust necessarily fall; light bodies by the same necessity rise; firemust burn; man must experience good and evil, according to the qualityof the beings whose action he experiences. _Tenthly_, that the power orthe energy of matter, has no other bounds than those which areprescribed by its own existence. _Eleventhly_, that wisdom, justice, goodness, &c. Are qualities peculiar to matter combined and modified, asit is found in some beings of the human species; that the idea ofperfection is an abstract, negative, metaphysical idea, or mode ofconsidering objects, which supposes nothing real to be exterior toitself. _Twelfthly_, that matter is the principle of motion, which itcontains within itself: since matter alone is capable of either givingor receiving motion: this is what cannot be conceived of immaterialityor simple beings destitute of parts, devoid of extent, without mass, having no ponderosity, which consequently cannot either move itself orother bodies. 

CHAP. V. 

_Examination of the Proofs offered by DESCARTES, MALEBRANCHE, NEWTON, &c_. 

If the evidence of Clarke did not prove satisfactory--if the theologiansof his day disputed the manner in which he handled his subject--if theywere disposed to think he had not established his argument upon properfoundations, it did not seem probable that either the system ofDescartes, the sublime reveries of Malebranche, or the more methodicalmode adopted by Newton, were at all likely to meet with a betterreception; the same objections will lie against them all, that they havenot demonstrated the existence of their immaterial substances; althoughthey have incessantly spoken of them, as if they were things of whichthey had the most intimate knowledge. Unfortunately this is a rock whichthe most sublime geniuses have not been competent to avoid: the mostenlightened men have done little more than stammer upon a subject whichthey have all concurred in considering of the highest importance; whichthey unceasingly hold forth as the most necessary for man to know;without at the same time considering he is not in a condition to occupyhimself with objects inaccessible to his senses--which his mind, consequently, can never grasp--which his utmost research cannot bringinto that tangible shape by which alone he can be enabled to form ajudgment. 

To the end that we may be convinced of that want of solidity which thegreatest men have not known how to give to the proofs they have offered, but which they have successively imagined has established theirpositions, let us briefly examine what the most celebrated philosophers, what the most subtile metaphysicians have said. For this purpose we willbegin with Descartes, the restorer of philosophy among the moderns, towhose sublime errors we are indebted for the effulgent truths of theNewtonian system. This great man himself tells us, "All the strength ofargument which I have hitherto used to prove the existence of immaterialsubstances, consists in this, that I acknowledge it would not bepossible, my nature was such as it is, that is to say, that I shouldhave in me the idea of immateriality, if this incorporeity did not trulyexist; this same immateriality, of which the idea is in me, possessesall those high perfections of which our mind can have some slight idea, without however being able to comprehend them. " In another place hesays, "We must necessarily conclude from this alone, that because Iexist, and have the idea of immateriality, that is to say, of a mostperfect being, the existence is therefore most evidently demonstrated. "There are not, perhaps, many except Descartes himself, to whom thiswould appear quite so conclusive; who would be impressed with theconviction which he seems to imagine is so very substantive. 

_First_, We shall reply to Descartes, it is not a warrantable deduction, that because we have an idea of a thing, we must therefore conclude itexists; to give validity to such a mode of reasoning would be productiveof the greatest mischief; would, in fact, tend to subvert all humaninstitutions. Our imagination presents us with the idea of a sphinx, orof an hippogriff, besides a thousand other fantastical beings; are we, on that authority, to insist that these things really exist? Is the merecircumstance of our having an idea of various parts of nature, discrepantly jumbled together, without any other evidence as to theassemblage, a sufficient warrantry for calling upon mankind to accreditthe existence of such heterogeneous masses? If a philosopher of the mostconsummate experience, of the greatest celebrity, one who enjoyed theconfidence of mankind above every other, was to detail the faculties andperfections of these visionary beings, although he should hold themforth as the perfection of all natural combinations, would, I say, anyreasonable being lend himself to the asseveration?

_Secondly_, It is obvious that the mere circumstance of existence, doesnot prove the absolute existence of any thing anterior to itself;although in man, as well as the other beings of nature, it is evidencethat something has existed before him. If this argument was to beadmitted, are they aware how far it, would carry them? To maintain thatthe existence of one being demonstrably proves the existence of ananterior being, would be, in fact, denying that any thing was self-existent. The fallacy of such a position is too glaring to needrefutation. 

_Thirdly_, It is not possible he should have a distinct, positive ideaof immateriality, of which be, as well as the theologian, labours toprove the existence. It is impossible for man, for a material being, toform to himself a correct idea, or indeed any idea, of incorporeity; ofa substance without extent, acting upon nature, which is corporeal; atruth which it may not be presuming too much to say we have alreadysufficiently proved. 

_Fourthly_, It is equally impossible for man to have any clear, decidedidea of perfection, of infinity, of immensity, and other theologicalattributes. To Descartes we must therefore reply as we have done to Dr. Clarke on his twelfth proposition. 

Thus nothing can well be less conclusive than the proofs upon whichDescartes rests the existence of immateriality. He gives it thought andintelligence, but how conceive these qualities without a subject towhich they may adhere? He pretends that we cannot conceive it but "as apower which applies itself successively to the parts of the universe. "Again, he says, "that an immaterial substance cannot be said to haveextent, but as we say of fire contain in a piece of iron, which has not, properly speaking, any other extension than that of the iron itself"According to these notions we shall be justified in taxing him withhaving announced in a very clear, in a most unequivocal manner, thatthis is nature herself: this indeed is a pure Spinosism; it wasdecidedly on the principles of Descartes that Spinosa drew up hissystem; in fact it flows out of it consecutively. 

We might, therefore, with great reason, accuse Descartes of atheism, seeing that he very effectually destroys the feeble proofs he adduces insupport of his own hypothesis; we have solid foundation for insistingthat his system overturns the idea of the creation, because if from themodification we subtract the subject, the modification itselfdisappears: and if, according to the Cartesians, this immateriality isnothing without nature, they are complete Spinosians, with another name. If incorporeity is the motive-power of this nature, it no longer existsindependently; it, in fact, exists no longer than the subject to whichit is inherent subsists. Thus no longer existing independently, it willexist only while the nature which it moves shall endure; without matter, without a subject to move, to preserve, what is to become of it, according to this doctrine, or rather according to this elucidation of asystem which is in itself untenable?

It will be obvious from this, that Descartes, far from establishing on arocky foundation the existence of this immateriality, totally destroyshis own system. The same thing will necessarily happen to all those whoreason upon his principles; they will always finish by confuting him, and by contradicting themselves. The same want of just inference, thesame discrepancy, will obtrude themselves in the principles of thecelebrated Father Malebranche; which, if considered with the slightestattention, appear to conduct directly to Spinosism; in fact, can anything be more in unison with the language of Spinosa himself, than tosay, as does Malebranche, "that the universe is only an emanation fromGod; that we see every thing in God, that every thing we see is onlyGod; that God alone does every thing that is done; that all the action, with every operation that takes place in nature, is God himself; in aword, that God is every being and the only being. " Is not this formallyasserting that nature herself is God? Moreover, at the same timeMalebranche assures us we see every thing in God, he pretends that it isnot yet clearly demonstrated that matter and bodies have existence; thatfaith alone teaches us these mysteries, of which, without it, we shouldnot have any knowledge whatever. In reply, it might be a very fairquestion, how the existence of the being who created matter can bedemonstrated, if the existence of this matter itself be yet a problem?He himself acknowledges "that we can have no distinct demonstration ofthe existence of any other being than of that which is necessary;" hefurther adds, "that if it be closely examined, it will be seen, that itis not even possible to know with certitude, if God be or be not trulythe creator of a material, of a sensible world. " According to thesenotions, it is evident, that, following up the system of Malebranche, man has only his faith to guarantee the existence of the world; yetfaith itself supposes its existence; if it be not, however, certain thatit does exist, and the Bishop of Cloyne, Dr. Berkeley, has also heldthis in doubt, how shall we be persuaded that we must believe theoracles which have been delivered to a visionary world?

On the other hand, these notions of Malebranche completely overturns allthe theological doctrines of free agency. How can the liberty of man'saction be reconciled with the idea that it is the Divinity who is theimmediate mover of nature; who actually gives impulse to matter andbodies, without whose immediate interference nothing takes place; whopre-determines his creatures to every thing they do? How can it bepretended, if this doctrine is to be accredited, that human souls havethe faculty of forming thoughts--have the power of volition--are in acondition to move themselves--have the capacity to modify theirexistence? If it he supposed with the theologians, that the conservationof the creatures in the universe is a continued creation, must it notappear, that being thus perpetually recreated, they are enabled tocommit evil? It will then be a self-evident fact, that, admitting thesystem of Malebranche, God does every thing, and that his creatures areno more than passive instruments in his hands. Under this idea theycould not be answerable for their sins, because they would have no meansof avoiding them. Under this notion they could neither have merit ordemerit; they would be like a sharp instrument in their own hands, whichwhether it was applied to a good or to an evil purpose, it would attachto themselves, not to the instrument: this would annihilate allreligion: it is thus that theology is continually occupied withcommitting suicide. 

Let us now see, if the immortal Newton, the great luminary of science, the champion of astronomical truth, will afford us clearer notions, moredistinct ideas, more certain evidence of the existence of immaterialsubstances. This great man, whose comprehensive genius unravellednature, whose capacious mind developed her laws, seems to havebewildered himself, the instant he lost sight of them. A slave to theprejudices of his infancy, he had not the courage to hold the lamp ofhis own enlightened understanding to the agent theology has sogratuitously associated with nature; he has not been able to allow thather own peculiar powers were adequate to the production of thatbeautiful phenomena, he has with such masterly talents so luminouslyexplained. In short, the sublime Newton himself becomes an infant whenhe quits physics, when he lays aside demonstration, to lose himself inthe devious sinuosities, in the inextricable labyrinths, in the delusiveregions of theology. This is the manner in which he speaks of theDivinity:

"This God, " says he, "governs all, not as the soul of the world, but asthe lord and sovereign of all things. It is in consequence of hissovereignty that he is called the Lord God, [Greek letters], _pantokrator_, the universal emperor. Indeed the word God is relativeand relates itself with slaves; the Deity is the dominion or thesovereignty of God, not over his own body, as those think who look uponGod as the soul of the world, but over slaves. "

From this it will be seen that Newton, as well as the theologians, makesthe Divinity a pure spirit, who presides over the universe as a monarch, as a lord paramount; that is to say, what man defines in earthlygovernors, despot, absolute princes, powerful monarchs, whosegovernments have no model but their own will, who exercise an unlimitedpower over their subjects, transformed into slaves; whom they usuallycompel to feel in a very grievous manner the weight of their authority. But according to the ideas of Newton, the world has not existed frometernity, the staves of God have been formed in the course of time; fromthis it would be a just inference, that before the creation of the worldthe god of Newton was a sovereign without subjects. Let us see if thistruly great philosopher is more in unison with himself in the subsequentideas which he delivers on this subject. 

"The supreme God, " he says, "is an eternal, infinite, and absolutelyperfect being; but however perfect a being may be, if he has nosovereignty he is not the supreme God. The word God signifies Lord, butevery lord is not god; it is the sovereignty of the spiritual Beingwhich constitutes God; it is the true sovereignty which constitutes thetrue God; it is the supreme sovereignty which constitutes the supremeGod; it is a false sovereignty which constitutes a false god. From truesovereignty, it follows, that the true God is living, intelligent, andpowerful; and from his other perfections, it follows, that he issupremely or sovereignly perfect. He is eternal, infinite, omniscient;that is to say, he exists from eternity, and will never have an end; hegoverns all, and he knows every thing that is done, or that can be done. He is neither eternity nor infinity, but he is eternal and infinite; heis not space or duration, but he exists and is present. " The term hereused is _adest_, which appears to have been placed there to avoid sayingthat God is contained in space. 

In all this unintelligible series, nothing is to be found but incredibleefforts to reconcile the theological attributes, the abstract with thehuman qualities, which have been ascribed to the Divinity; we see in itnegative qualities, which can no longer be suitable to man, given, however, to the Sovereign of nature, whom he has supposed a king. However it may be, this picture always supposes the Supreme God to haveoccasion for subjects to establish his sovereignty. It makes God standin need of man for the exercise of his empire; without these, accordingto the text, he would not be a king; he could have had no empire whenthere was nothing: but if this description of Newton was just, if itreally represented the Divinity, we might be very fairly permitted toask, Does not this Spiritual King exercise his spiritual empire in vain, upon refractory beings, who do not at all times do that which he iswilling they should; who are continually struggling against his power;who spread disorder in his states? This Spiritual Monarch, who is masterof the minds, of the souls, of the wills, of the passions of his slaves, does he leave them the freedom of revolting against him? This infiniteMonarch, who fills every thing with his immensity, who governs all, doeshe also govern the man who sins; does he direct his actions; is he inhim when he offends his God? The devil, the false god, the evilprinciple, hath he not, according to this, a more extensive empire thanthe true God, whose projects, if we are to believe the theologians, heis unceasingly overturning? In earthly governments the true sovereign isgenerally considered to be him whose power in a state influences thegreater number of his subjects. If, then, we could suppose him to beomnipresent, that is, present in all places, should we not say he wasthe sad witness to all the outrages committed against his authority, andwe should not entertain a very exalted opinion of his power if hepermitted them to continue. This, it is true, would be arguing upon amonarch of this world, still it would be the language held by observers. 

Is the spirituality of the Divinity well supported by those who say hefills all space, who from that instant give him extent, ascribe to himvolume, make him correspond with the various points of space? This isthe very reverse of an immaterial substance. 

"God is one, " continues Newton, "and he is the same for ever, and everywhere, not only by his virtue alone, or by his energy, but also by hissubstance. " But how are we to conceive that a being who is in continualactivity, who produces all the changes which beings undergo, can alwaysbe himself the same? What is to be understood by either this virtue orthis energy? These are relative terms, which do not present any clear, distinct idea to our mind, except as they apply to man: what are we, however, to understand by the divine substance? If this substance bespiritual, that is, devoid of extent, how can there exist in it anyparts? How can it give impulse to matter, how set it in motion? How canit even be conceived by mortals?

Nevertheless Newton informs us, "that all things are contained in him, and are moved in him, but without reciprocity of action: God experiencesnothing by the motion of bodies; these experience no resistance whateverby his omnipresence. " It would here appear that he clothes the Divinitywith that which bears the, character of vacuum--of nothing; withoutthat, it would be almost impossible not to have a reciprocal action orrelation between these substances, which are either penetrated orencompassed on all sides. It must be obvious, that in this instance ourscientific author does not distinctly understand himself. 

He proceeds, "It is an incontestible truth, that God exists necessarily, and the same necessity obliges to exist always and every where: fromwhence it follows, that he is in every thing similar to itself; he isall eyes, all ears, all brains, all arms, all feeling, all intelligence, all action; but in a mode by no means human, by no means corporeal, andwhich is totally unknown to us. In the same manner as a blind man has noidea of colours, it is that we have no idea of the mode in which Godfeels and understands. " The necessary existence of the Divinity isprecisely the thing in question; it is this existence that it wasneedful to have verified by proofs as clear, by evidence as distinct, bydemonstration as strong, as gravitation and attraction. One would havehardly thought it possible the expansive capabilities of Newton wouldnot have compassed it. But oh, unrivalled genius! so mighty, sopowerful, so colossal, while yet you was a geometrician; soinsignificant, so weak, so inconsistent; when you became a theologian;that is to say, when you reasoned upon that which can neither becalculated, nor submitted to experience; how could you think of speakingto us on a subject which, by your own confession is to you just what apicture is to a man born blind? Wherefore quit nature, which had alreadyexplained to you so much? Why seek in imaginary spaces those causes, those powers, that energy, which she would have distinctly pointed outto you, had you been willing to have consulted her with your usualsagacity? The gigantic, the intelligent Newton, suffers himself to behoodwinked--to be blinded by prejudice; he has not courage to look aquestion fairly in the face, when that question involves notions whichhabit has rendered sacred to him; he turns his eyes from truth, he castsbehind him his experience, he lulls to sleep his reason, when it becomesnecessary to probe opinions full of contradictions, yet fraught with thebest interests of humanity. 

Let us, however, continue to examine how far the most transcendentgenius is capable of leading himself astray, when once he abandonsexperience, when once he chains up his reason, when once he suffershimself to be guided by his imagination. 

"God, " continues the father of modern philosophy, "is totally destituteof body and of corporeal figure; here is the reason why he cannot beeither seen, touched, or understood; and ought not to be adored underany corporeal form. " What idea, however, can be formed of a being who isresembled by nothing of which we have any knowledge? What are therelations that can be supposed to exist between such very dissimilarbeings? When man renders this being his adoration, does he not, in fact, in despite of himself, make him a being similar to his own species; doeshe not suppose that, like himself, he is sensible to homage--to be wonby presents--gained by flattery; in short, he is treated like a king ofthe earth, who exacts the respect, demands the fealty, requires theobedience of all who are submitted to him. Newton adds, "we have ideasof his attributes, but we do not know that it is any one substance; weonly see the figures and the colours of bodies; we only hear sounds; weonly touch the exterior surfaces; we only scent odours; we only tasteflavours: no one of our senses, no one of our reflections, can shew usthe intimate nature of substances: we have still less ideas of God. "

If we have an idea of the attributes of God, it is only because weclothe him with those which belong to ourselves; which we never do morethan aggrandize, which we only augment or exaggerate; we then mistakethem for those qualities with which we were at first acquainted. If inall those substances which are pervious to our senses, we only know themby the effects they produce on us, after which we assign them qualities, at least these qualities are something tangible, they give birth toclear and distinct ideas. This superficial knowledge, however slender itmay be, with which our senses furnish us, is the only one we canpossibly have; constituted as we are, we find ourselves under thenecessity of resting contented with it, and we discover that it issufficient for our wants; but we have not even the most superficial ideaof immateriality, or a substance distinguished from all those with whichwe have the slightest acquaintance. Nevertheless, we hear men hourlyreasoning upon it, disputing about its properties, advancing itsfaculties, as if they had the most demonstrable evidence of the fact;tearing each other in pieces, because the one does not readily admitwhat the other asserts, upon a subject which no man is competent tounderstand. 

Our author goes on "We only have a knowledge of God by his attributes, by his properties, by the excellent and wise arrangement which he hasgiven to all things, and by their FINAL CAUSES: we admire him inconsequence of his perfections. " I repeat, that we have no realknowledge of the Divinity; that we borrow his attributes from ourselves;but it is evident these cannot be suitable to the Universal Being, whoneither can have the same nature nor the same properties as particularbeings; it is nevertheless after ourselves that we assign himintelligence, wisdom, perfection, in subtracting from them what we calldefects. As to the order, or the arrangement of the universe, man findsit excellent, esteems it the perfection of wisdom, as long as it isfavorable to his species; or when the causes which are co-existent withhimself do not disturb his own peculiar existence; otherwise he is aptto complain of confusion, and final causes vanish: he then attributes toan immutable God, motives equally borrowed from his own peculiar mode ofaction, for deranging the beautiful order he so much admires in theuniverse. Thus it is always in himself, that is, in his own individualmode of feeling, that he draws up the ideas of the order, the wisdom, the excellence, the perfection which he ascribes to the Deity; whilstthe good as well as the evil which take place in the world, are thenecessary consequence of the essence of things; of the general, immutable laws of nature; in short, of the gravitation, of the repulsionof matter; of those unchangeable laws of motion, which Newton himselfhas so ably thrown into light; but which he has by a strange fatuityforborne to apply when the question was concerning the cause of thesephenomena, which prejudice has refused to the capabilities of nature. Hegoes on, "We revere, and we adore God, on account of his sovereignty: weworship him like his slaves; a God destitute of sovereignty, ofprovidence, and of final causes, would be no more than nature anddestiny. " It is true that superstition enjoins man to adore its godslike ignorant slaves, who tremble under a master whom they know not; hecertainly prays to them on all occasions, sometimes requesting nothingless than an entire change in the essence of things, to gratify hiscapricious desires, and it is perhaps well for him they are notcompetent to grant his request: in the origin, as we have shewn, thesegods were nothing more than nature acting by necessary laws, clothedunder a variety of fables; or necessity personified under a multitude ofnames. However this may be, we do not believe that true religion, thatsterling worship which renders man grateful, whilst it exalts themajesty of the Divinity, requires any such meanness from man that heshould act like a slave; he is rather expected to sit down to thebanquet prepared for him, with all the dignity of an invited guest;under the cheering consciousness of a welcome that is never accorded toslaves; nothing is required at his hands, but that he should conducthimself temperately in the banquetting-house; that he should be gratefulfor the good cheer he receives; that he should have virtue; (which wehave already sufficiently explained is to render himself useful, bymaking others happy); that he should not by pertinaciously setting upwhimsical opinions, and insisting on their adoption by his neighbour, disturb the harmony of the feast; that he should be sufficientlyintelligent to know when he is really felicitous, and not seek to putdown the gaiety of his fellow guests; but that he should rise from theboard satisfied with himself, contented with others; in short, tocomprise the whole in a trite axiom of one of the Greek philosophers, heshould learn the invaluable secret, "to _bear_ and _forbear_. "

But to proceed. Newton tells us, "that from a physical and blindnecessity, which should preside every where, and be always the same, there could not emanate any variety in the beings; the diversity whichwe behold, could only have its origin in the ideas and in the will of abeing which exists necessarily;" but wherefore should not this diversityspring out of natural causes, from matter acting upon matter; the actionof which either attracts and combines various yet analogous elements, orelse separates beings by the intervention of those substances which havenot a disposition to unite? Is not bread the result of the combinationof flour, yeast and water? As for the blind necessity, as it iselsewhere said, we must acknowledge it is that of which we are ignorant, either of its properties or its energies; of which being blind ourselveswe have no knowledge of its mode of action. Philosophers explain all thephenomena that occur by the properties of matter; and though they feelthe want of a more intimate acquaintance with natural causes, they donot therefore the less believe them deducible from these properties orthese causes. Are, therefore, the philosophers atheists, because they donot reply, it is God who is the author of these effects? Is theindustrious workman, who makes gunpowder, to be challenged as anatheist, because he says the terrible effects of this destructivematerial, which inspired the native Americans with such awe, whichraised in their winds such wonder, are to be ascribed to the junction ofthe apparently harmless substances of nitre, charcoal and sulpher, setin activity by the accession of trivial scintillations, produced fromthe collision of steel with flint, merely because some bigoted _Priestof the Sun_, who is ignorant of the composition, chooses to think it isnot possible such a striking phenomenon could be the work of any thingshort of the secret agents, whom he has himself appointed to govern theworld?

"It is allegorically said that God sees, hears, speaks, smiles, loves, hates, desires, gives, receives, rejoices, grows angry, fights, makes, or fashions, &c. Because all that is said of God, is borrowed from theconduct of man, by an imperfect analogy. " Man has not been able to actotherwise, for want of being acquainted with nature and her eternalcourse: whenever he has imagined a peculiar energy which he has not beenable to fathom, he has given it the name of God; and he has then madehim act upon the self-same principles, as he himself would adopt, according to which he would act if he was the master. It is from thisproneness to _Theanthropy_, that has flowed all those absurd, andfrequently dangerous ideas, upon which are founded the superstitions ofthe world; who all adore in their gods either natural causes of whichthey are ignorant, or else powerful mortals of whose malice they standin awe. The sequel will shew the fatal effects that have resulted tomankind from the absurd ideas they have very frequently formed tothemselves of the Divinity; that nothing could he more degrading to him, more injurious to themselves, than the idea of comparing him to anabsolute sovereign, to a despot, to a tyrant. For the present let uscontinue to examine the proofs offered in support of their varioussystems. 

It is unceasingly repeated that the regular action, the invariableorder, which reigns in the universe, the benefits heaped upon mortals, announce a wisdom, an intelligence, a goodness, which we cannot refuseto acknowledge, in the cause which produces these marvellous effects. Tothis we must reply, that it is unquestionably true that not only thesethings, but all the phenomena he beholds, indicate the existence ofsomething gifted very superiorly to erring man; the great question, however, is one that perhaps will never be solved, what is this being?Is this question answered by heaping together the estimable qualities ofman? Speaking with relation to ourselves, which is all that thetheologian really does, although in such numerous regions he pretends todo a great deal more, we can apply the terms goodness, wisdom, intelligence, the best with which we are acquainted, to this being forthe want of having those that may be appropriate; but I maintain, thisdoes not, in point of fact, afford us one single idea of the _GreatCause of causes_; we admire his works; and knowing that what we approvehighly in our own species, we attribute to their being wise, we say theDivinity displays wisdom. So far it is well; but this, after all, is ahuman quality. If we consult experience, we shall presently be convincedthat our wisdom does not bear the least affinity to the actionsattributed to the Divinity. To get at this a little closer, we mustendeavour to find out what we do not call wisdom in man; this will helpus to form an estimate, how very incompetent we are to describe thequalities of a being that differs so very materially from ourselves. Wemost certainly should not call him a wise man, who having built abeautiful residence, should himself set it on fire; and thus destroywhat he had laboured so much to bring to perfection: yet this happensevery day in nature, without its being in any manner a warrantry for usto charge her with folly. If therefore we were to form our judgmentsafter our own puny ideas of wisdom, what should we say? Why, in point offact, just what the man does, who, thinking he has had too much rain, implores fine weather? Which, properly translated, is neither more norless than giving the Divinity to understand he best knows what is properfor himself. The just, the only fair inference to be drawn from this, is, that we positively know nothing about the matter; that those whopretend they do, would, if it was upon any other subject, he suspectedof having an unsound mind. We do not mean to insist that we are in theright, but we mean to aver that the object of this work is not so mucheither to build up new systems, or to put down old ones, as by shewingman the inconclusiveness of his reasonings upon matters not accessibleto his comprehension--to induce him to be more tolerant to hisneighbour--to invite him to be less rancorous against those who do notsee with his eyes--to hold forth to him motives for forbearance, againstthose whose system of faith may not exactly harmonize with his own--torender him less ferocious in support of opinions, which, if he will butdiscard his prejudices, he may find not so solidly bottomed as heimagines. All we know is scarcely more than that the motion we witnessin the universe is the necessary consequence of the laws of matter; thatthe uniformity of this motion is evidence of their immutability; that itis not too much to say it cannot cease to act in the manner it does, aslong as the same causes operate, governed by the same circumstances. Weevidently see that motion, however regular in our mind, that order, however beautiful to our admiring optics, yields to what we termdisorder, to that which we designate frightful confusion, as soon as newcauses, not analogous to the preceding, either disturb or suspend theiraction. We further know that a better knowledge of nature, theconsequence of time, the result of patient, laborious, physicalresearches, with the comparison of facts and the application ofexperience, has enabled man in many instances to divert from himself theevil effects of inevitable causes, which anterior to these discoveriesoverwhelmed his unhappy progenitors with ruin. How far these salutarydevelopements are to be carried by industry, what may be achieved byhonesty, what light is to be gathered from the recession of prejudice, the wisest among men is not competent to decide. Certain it is, thatphenomena which for ages were supposed to denounce the anger of theDeity against mankind, are now well understood to be common effects ofnatural causes. 

Order, as we have elsewhere shewn, is only the effects which result toourselves from a series of motion; there cannot be any disorderrelatively to the great whole; in which all that takes place isnecessary; in which every thing is determined by laws which nothing canchange. The order of nature may he damaged or destroyed relatively toourselves, but it is never contradicted relatively to herself, since shecannot act otherwise than she does: if we attribute to her the evils wesustain, we are equally obliged to acknowledge we owe to her the good weexperience. 

It in said, that animals furnish a convincing proof of the powerfulcause of their existence; that the admirable harmony of their parts, themutual assistance they lend each other, the regularity with which theyfulfill their functions, the preservation of these parts, theconservation of such complicated wholes, announce a workman who uniteswisdom with power; in short, whole tracts of anatomy and botany havebeen copied to prove nothing more than that these things exist, for ofthe power that produced them there cannot remain a doubt. We shall neverlearn more from these erudite tracts, save that there exists in naturecertain elements with an aptitude to attraction; a disposition to unite, suitable to form wholes, to induce combinations capable of producingvery striking effects. To be surprised that the brain, the heart, thearteries, the veins, the eyes, the ears of an animal, act as we seethem--that the roots of plants attract juices, or that trees producefruit, is to be surprised that a tree, a plant, or an animal exists atall. These beings would not exist, or would no longer be that which weknow they are, if they ceased to act as they do: this is what happenswhen they die. If the formation, the combination, the modes of action, variously possessed by these beings, if their conservation for a season, followed by their destruction or dissolution, prove any thing, it is theimmutability of those laws which operate in nature: we cannot doubt thepower of nature; she produces all the animals we behold, by thecombination, of matter, continually in motion; the harmony that subsistsbetween the component parts of these beings, is a consequence of thenecessary laws of their nature, and of that which results from theircombination. As soon as this accord ceases, the animal is necessarilydestroyed: from this we must conclude that every mutation in nature isnecessary; is only a consequence of its laws; that it could not beotherwise than it is, under the circumstances in which it is placed. 

Man, who looks upon himself as the _chef d'oeuvre_, furnishes more thanany other production a proof of the immutability of the laws of nature:in this sensible, intelligent, thinking being, whose vanity leads him tobelieve himself the sole object of the divine predilection, who formshis God after his own peculiar model, we see only a more inconstant, amore brittle machine; one more subject to be deranged by its extremecomplication, than the grosser beings: beasts destitute of ourknowledge, plants that vegetate, stones devoid of feeling, are in manyrespects beings more highly favored than man: they are at least exemptedfrom the sorrows of the mind--from the torments of reflection--from thatdevouring, chagrin to which he is so frequently a prey. Who is he whowould not be a plant or a stone, every time reminiscence forces upon hisimagination the irreparable loss of a beloved object? Would it not bebetter to be an inanimate mass, than a restless, turbulent, superstitious being, who does nothing but tremble under the imaginarydispleasure of beings of his own creation; who to support his own gloomyopinions, immolates his fellow creatures at the shrine of his idol; whoravages the country, and deluges the earth with the blood of those whohappen to differ from him on a speculative point of an unintelligiblecreed? Beings destitute of life, bereft of feeling, without memory, nothaving the faculties of thought, at least are not afflicted by the ideaof either the past, the present, or the future; they do not at any ratebelieve themselves in danger of becoming eternally unhappy, because theyway have reasoned badly; or because they happened to be born in a landwhere truth has never yet shed its refulgent beams on the darkened mindof perplexed mortals. 

Let it not then be said that we cannot have an idea of a work, withoutalso having an idea of the workman, as distinguished from his work: thesavage, when he first beheld the terrible operation of gunpowder, didnot form the most distant idea that it was the work of a man likehimself. Nature is not to be contemplated as a work of this kind; she isself-existent. In her bosom every thing is produced: she is an immenseelaboratory, provided with materials, who makes the instruments of whichshe avails herself in her operations. All her works are the effects ofher own energies; of those agents which she herself produces; of thoseimmutable laws by which she sets every thing in activity. Eternal, indestructible elements, ever in motion, combine themselves variously, and thus give birth to all beings, to all the phenomena which fill theweak eyes of erring mortals with wonder and dismay; to all the effects, whether good or bad, of which man experiences the influence; to all thevicissitudes he undergoes, from the moment of his birth until that ofhis death; to order and to confusion, which he never discriminates butby the various modes in which he is affected: in short, to all thosemiraculous spectacles with which he occupies his meditation--upon whichhe exercises his reason--which frequently spread consternation over thesurface of the earth. These elements need nothing when circumstancesfavour their junction, save their own peculiar properties, whetherindividual or united, with the motion that is essential to them, toproduce all those phenomena which powerfully striking the senses ofmankind, either fill him with admiration, or stagger him with alarm. 

But supposing for a moment that it was impossible to conceive the work, without also conceiving the workman, who watches over his work, wheremust we place this workman? Shall it be interior or exterior to hisproduction? Is he matter and motion, or is he only space or the vacuum?In all these cases either he would be nothing, or he would be containedin nature: as nature contains only matter and motion, it must beconcluded that the agent who moves it is material; that he is corporeal;if this agent be exterior to nature, then we can no longer form any ideaof the place which he occupieth: neither can we better conceive animmaterial being; nor the mode in which a spirit without extent can actupon matter from which it is separated. These unknown spaces, whichimagination has placed beyond the visible world, can have no existencefor a being, who with difficulty sees down to his feet; he cannot paintto his mind any image of the power which inhabit them; but if he iscompelled to form some kind of a picture, he must combine at random thefantastical colours which he is ever obliged to draw from the world heinhabits: in this case he will really do no more than reproduce in idea, part or parcels of that which he has actually seen; he will form a wholewhich perhaps has no existence in nature, but which it will be in vainhe strives to distinguish from her; to place out of her bosom. When heshall be ingenuous with himself, When he shall be no longer willing todelude others, he will be obliged to acknowledge, that the portrait hehas painted, although in its combination it resembles nothing in theuniverse, is nevertheless in all its constituent members an exactdelineation of that which nature presents to our view. Hobbes in his_Leviathan_ says, "The universe, the whole mass of things, is corporeal, that is to say, body; and hath the dimensions of magnitude, namely, length, breadth, and depth: also every part of body is likewise body, and hath the like dimensions; and consequently every part of theuniverse is body; and that which is not body, is no part of theuniverse; and because the universe is all, that which is no part of itis nothing; and consequently no where: nor does it follow from hence, that spirits are nothing, for they have dimensions, and are thereforereally bodies; though that name in common speech be given to such bodiesonly as are visible, or palpable, that is, that have some degree ofopacity: but for spirits they call them incorporeal; which is a name ofmore honour, and may therefore with more piety be attributed to Godhimself, in whom we consider not what attribute expresseth best hisnature, which is incomprehensible; but what best expresseth our desireto honour him. "

It will be insisted that if a statue or a watch were shewn to a savage, who had never before seen either, he would not be able to preventhimself from acknowledging that these things were the works of someintelligent agent of greater ability, possessing more industry thanhimself: it will be concluded from thence, that we are in like mannerobliged to acknowledge that the universe, that man, that the variousphenomena, are the works of an agent, whose intelligence is morecomprehensive, whose power far surpasses our own. Granted: who has everdoubted it? the proposition is self-evident; it cannot admit of even acavil. Nevertheless we reply, in the _first place_, that it is not to bedoubted that nature is extremely powerful; diligently industrious: weadmire her activity every time we are surprised by the extent, everytime we contemplate the variety, every time we behold those complicatedeffects which are displayed in her works; or whenever we take the painsto meditate upon them: nevertheless, she is not really more industriousin one of her works than she is in another; she is not fathomed withmore ease in those we call her most contemptible productions, than sheis in her most sublime efforts: we no more understand how she has beencapable of producing a stone or a metal, than the means by which sheorganized a head like that of the illustrious Newton. We call that manindustrious who can accomplish things which we cannot; nature iscompetent to every thing: as soon therefore as a thing exists, it is aproof she has been capable of producing it: but it is never more thanrelatively to ourselves that we judge beings to be industrious: we thencompare them to ourselves; and as we enjoy a quality which we callintelligence, by the assistance of which we accomplish things, by whichwe display our diligence, we naturally conclude from it, that thoseworks which most astonish us, do not belong to her, but are to beascribed to an intelligent being like ourselves, but in whom we make theintelligence commensurate with the astonishment these phenomena excitein us; that is to say, in other words, to our own peculiar ignorance, and the weakness incident to our nature. 

In the _second place_, we must observe, that the savage, to whom eitherthe statue or the watch is brought, will or will not have ideas of humanindustry: if he has ideas of it, he will feel that this watch or thisstatue, way be the work of a being of his own species, enjoyingfaculties of which he is himself deficient: if he has no idea of it, ifhe has no comprehension of the resources of human art, when he beholdsthe spontaneous motion of the watch, he will he impressed with thebelief that it is an animal, which cannot be the work of man. Multipliedexperience confirms this mode of thinking which is ascribed to thesavage. The Peruvians mistook the Spaniards for gods, because they madeuse of gunpowder, rode on horseback, and came in vessels which sailedquite alone. The inhabitants of the island of Tenian being ignorant offire before the arrival of Europeans, the first time they saw it, conceived it to be an animal who devoured the wood. Thus it is, that thesavage, in the same manner as many great and learned men, who believethemselves much more acute, will attribute the strange effects thatstrike his organs, to a genius or to a spirit; that is to say, to anunknown power; to whom he will ascribe capabilities of which he believesthe beings of his own species are entirely destitute: by this he willprove nothing, except that he is himself ignorant of what man is capableof producing. It is thus that a raw unpolished people raise their eyesto heaven, every time they witness some unusual phenomenon. It is thusthat the people denominate all those strange effects, with the naturalcauses of which they are ignorant, miraculous, supernatural, divine; butthese are not by reasonable persons therefore considered proofs of whatthey assert: as the multitude are generally unacquainted with the causeof any thing, every object becomes a miracle in their eyes; at leastthey imagine God is the immediate cause of the good they enjoy--of theevil they suffer. In short, it is thus that the theologians themselvessolve every difficulty that starts in their road; they ascribe to Godall those phenomena, of the causes of which either they are themselvesignorant, or else unwilling that man should be acquainted with thesource. 

In the _third place_, the savage, in opening the watch, and examiningits parts, will perhaps feel, that this machinery announces a work whichcan only be the result of human labour. He will perhaps perceive, thatthey very obviously differ from the immediate productions of nature, whom he has not observed to produce wheels made of polished metal. Hewill further notice, perhaps, that these parts when separated, no longeract as they did when they were combined; that the motion he so muchadmired, ceases when their union is broken. After these observations, hewill attribute the watch to the ingenuity of man; that is to say, to abeing like himself, of whom he has some ideas, but whom he judgescapable to construct machines to which he is himself utterlyincompetent. In short, he will ascribe the honour of his watch to abeing known to him in some respects, provided with faculties very farsuperior to his own; but he will be at an immense distance from thebelief, that this material work, whose ingenuity pleases him so much, can be the effect of an immaterial cause; or of an agent destitute oforgans, without extent; whose action upon material beings cannot bewithin, the sphere of his comprehension. Nevertheless, man, when hecannot embrace the causes of things, does not scruple to insist thatthey are impossible to be the production of nature, although he isentirely ignorant how far the powers of this nature extend; to what hercapabilities are equal. In viewing the world, we must acknowledgematerial causes for many of those phenomena which take place in it;those who study nature are continually adding fresh discoveries to thislist of physical causes; science, as she enriches the intellectualstores of human enjoyment, every day throws a broader light on theenergies of nature, which _prejudice_, aided by its almost inseparablecompanion, _ignorance_, would for ever bind down in the fetters ofimpotence. 

Let us not, however, he told, that pursuing this hypothesis, weattribute every thing to a blind cause--to the fortuitous concurrence ofatoms--to chance. Those only are called blind causes of which we knownot either the combination, the laws, or the power. Those effects arecalled fortuitous, with whose causes man is unacquainted; to which hisexperience affords him no clue; which his ignorance prevents him fromforeseeing. All those effects, of which he does not see the necessaryconnection with their causes, he attributes to chance. Nature is not ablind cause; she never acts by chance; nothing that she does would everbe considered fortuitous, by him who should understand her mode ofaction--who had a knowledge of her resources--who was intelligent in herways. Every thing that she produces is strictly necessary--is never morethan a consequence of her eternal, immutable laws; all is connected inher by invisible bonds; every effect we witness flows necessarily fromits cause, whether we are in a condition to fathom it, or whether we areobliged to let it remain hidden from our view. It is very possible thereshould be ignorance on our part; but the words spirit, intelligence, will not remedy this ignorance; they will rather redouble it, byarresting our research; by preventing us from conquering thoseimpediments which obstruct us in probing the natural causes of theeffects, with which our visual faculties bring us acquainted. 

This may serve for an answer to the clamour of those who raise perpetualobjections to the partizans of nature, by unceasingly accusing them withattributing every thing to chance. Chance is a word devoid of sense, which furnishes no substantive idea; at least it indicates only theignorance of its employers. Nevertheless, we are triumphantly told, itis reiterated continually, that a regular work cannot be ascribed to theconcurrence of chance. Never, we are informed, will it be possible toarrive at the formation of a poem such as the Iliad, by means of lettersthrown together promiscuously or combined at random. We agree to itwithout hesitation; but, ingenuously, are the letters which compose apoem thrown with the hand in the manner of dice? It would avail as muchto say, we could not pronounce a discourse with the feet. It is nature, who combines according to necessary laws, under given circumstances, ahead organized in a mode suitable to bring forth a poem: it is naturewho assembles the elements, which furnish man with a brain competent togive birth to such a work: it is nature, who, through the medium of theimagination, by means of the passions, in consequence of the temperamentwhich she bestows upon man, capacitates him to produce such amasterpiece of fancy; such a never-fading effort of the mind: it is hisbrain modified in a certain manner, crowded with ideas, decorated withimages, made fruitful by circumstances, that alone can become the matrixin which a poem can be conceived--in which the matter of it can bedigested: this is the only womb whose activity could usher to anadmiring world, the sublime stanzas which develope the story of theunfortunate Priam, and immortalize their author. A head organized likethat of Homer, furnished with the same vigour, glowing with the samevivid imagination, enriched with the same erudition, placed under thesame circumstances, would necessarily, and not by chance, produce thepoem of the Iliad; at least, unless it be denied that causes similar inevery thing must produce effects perfectly identical. We should withoutdoubt be surprised, if there were in a dice-box a hundred thousand dice, to see a hundred thousand sixes follow in succession; but if these dicewere all cogged or loaded, our surprise would cease: the particles ofmatter may be compared to cogged dice, that is to say, always producingcertain determinate effects under certain given circumstances; theseparticles being essentially varied in themselves, countless in theircombinations, they are cogged in myriads of different modes. The head ofHomer, or of Virgil, was no more than an assemblage of particles, possessing peculiar properties; or if they will, of dice cogged bynature; that is to say, of beings so combined, of matter so wrought, asto produce the beautiful poems of the Iliad or the Aeneid. As much waybe said of all other productions: indeed, what are men themselves butcogged dice--machines into which nature has infused the bias requisiteto produce effects of a certain description? A man of genius produces agood work, in the same manner as a tree of a good species, placed in aprolific soil, cultivated with care, grafted with judgment, producesexcellent fruit. 

Then is it not either knavery or puerility, to talk of composing a workby scattering letters with the hand; by promiscuously minglingcharacters; or gathering together by chance, that which can only resultfrom a human brain, with a peculiar organization, modified after acertain manner? The principle of human generation does not developeitself by chance; it cannot be nourished with effect, expanded intolife, but in the womb of a woman: a confused heap of characters, ajumble of symbols, is nothing more than an assemblage of signs, whoseproper arrangement is adequate to paint human ideas; but in order thatthese ideas may be correctly delineated, it is previously requisite thatthey should have been conceived, combined, nourished, connected, anddeveloped in the brain of a poet; where circumstances make themfructify, mature them, and bring them forth in perfection, by reason ofthe fecundity, generated by the genial warmth and the peculiar energy ofthe matrix, in which these intellectual seeds shall have been placed. Ideas in combining, expanding, connecting, and associating themselves, form a whole, like all the other bodies of nature: this whole affords uspleasure, becomes a source of enjoyment, when it gives birth toagreeable sensations in the mind; when it offers to our examinationpictures calculated to move us in a lively manner. It is thus that thehistory of the Trojan war, as digested in the head of Homer, usheredinto the world with all the fascinating harmony of numbers peculiar tohimself, has the power of giving a pleasurable impulse to heads, who bytheir analogy with that of this incomparable Grecian, are in a capacityto feel its beauties. 

From this it will be obvious, that nothing can be produced by chance;that no effect can exist without an adequate cause for its existence;that the one must ever be commensurate with the other. All the works ofnature grow out of the uniform action of invariable laws, whether ourmind can with facility follow the concatenation of the successive causeswhich operate; or whether, as in her more complicated productions, wefind ourselves in the impossibility of distinguishing the varioussprings which she sets in motion to give birth to her phenomena. Tonature, the difficulty is not more to produce a great poet, capable ofwriting an admirable poem, than to form a glittering stone or a shiningmetal which gravitates towards a centre. The mode she adopts to givebirth to these various beings, is equally unknown to us, when we havenot meditated upon it; frequently the most sedulous attention, the mostpatient investigation affords us no information; sometimes, however, theunwearied industry of the philosopher is rewarded, by throwing intolight the most mysterious operations. Thus the keen penetration of aNewton, aided by uncommon diligence, developed the starry system, which, for so many thousand years, had eluded the research of all theastronomers by whom he was preceded. Thus the sagacity of a Harveygiving vigour to his application, brought out of the obscurity in whichfor almost countless centuries it had been buried, the true coursepursued by the sanguinary fluid, when circulating through the veins andarteries of man, giving activity to his machine, diffusing life throughhis system, and enabling him to perform those actions which sofrequently strike an astonished world with wonder and regret. ThusGallileo, by a quickness of perception, a depth of reasoning peculiar tohimself, held up to an admiring world, the actual form and situation ofthe planet we inhabit; which until then had escaped the observation ofthe most profound geniuses--the most subtle metaphysicians--the wholehost of priests; which when first promulgated was considered soextraordinary, so contradictory to all the then received opinions, either sacred or profane, that he was ranked as an atheist, as animpious blasphemer, to hold communion with whom, would secure to thecommuners a place in the regions of everlasting torment; in short, itwas held an heresy of such an indelible dye, that notwithstanding theinfallibility of his sacred function, Pope Gregory, who then filled thepapal chair, excommunicated all those who had the temerity to accreditso abominable a doctrine. 

Man is born by the necessary concurrence of those elements suitable tohis construction; he increases in bulk, corroborates his system, expandshis powers, in the same manner as a plant or a stone; which as well ashimself, are augmented in their volume, invigorated in theircapabilities, by the addition of homogeneous matter, that exists withinthe sphere of their attraction. Man feels, thinks, receives ideas, actsafter a certain manner, that is to say, according to his organicstructure, which is peculiar to himself; that renders him susceptible ofmodifications, of which the stone and the plant are utterly incapable. On the other hand, the organization of these beings is of a nature toenable them to receive other modifications, which man is not morecapacitated to experience, than the stone or the plant are those whichconstitute him what he is. In consequence of this peculiar arrangement, the man of genius produces works of merit; the plant when it is healthyyields delicious fruits the stone when it is placed in a suitable matrixpossesses a glittering brilliance which dazzles the eyes of mortals;each in their sphere of action both surprise and delight us; because wefeel that they excite in us sensations, that harmonize with what we callorder; in consequence of the pleasure they infuse, by the rarity, by themagnitude, and by the variety of the effects which they occasion us toexperience. Nevertheless, that which is found most admirable in theproductions of nature, that which is most esteemed in the actions ofman, most highly valued in animals, most sought after in vegetation, most in request among fossils, is never more than the natural effects ofthe different particles of matter, diversely arranged, variouslycombined, submitted to numerous modifications; from matter thus unitedresult organs, brains, temperament, taste, talents, all the multifariousproperties, all the multitudinous qualities, which discriminate thebeings whose multiplied activity make up the sum of what is designatedanimated nature. 

Nature then produces nothing but what is necessary; it is not byfortuitous combinations, by chance throws, that she exhibits to our viewthe beings we behold; all her throws are sure, all the causes sheemploys have infallibly their effects. Whenever she gives birth toextraordinary, marvellous, rare beings, it is, that the requisite orderof things the concurrence of the necessary productive causes, happensbut seldom. As soon as those beings exist, they are to be ascribed tonature, equally with the most familiar of her productions; to natureevery thing is equally possible, equally facile, when she assemblestogether the instruments or the causes necessary to act. Thus it seemspresumption in man to set limits to the powers of nature, which he sovery imperfectly understands. The combinations, or if they will, thethrows that she makes in an eternity of existence, can easily produceall the beings that have existed: her eternal march must necessarilybring forth, again and again, the most astonishing circumstances; themost rare occurrences; those most calculated to rouse the wonder, toelicit the admiration of beings, who are only in a condition to givethem a momentary consideration; who can get nothing more than a glimpse, without ever having either the leisure or the means to search intocauses, which lie hid from their weak eyes, in the depths of Cimmerianobscurity. Countless throws during eternity, with elements andcombinations varied almost to infinity, quite with relation to man, suffice to produce every thing of which he has a knowledge, withmultitudes of other effects, of which he will never have the leastconception. 

Thus, we cannot too often repeat to the metaphysicians, to thesupporters of immateriality, to the inconsistent theologians, whocommonly ascribe to their adversaries the most ridiculous opinions, inorder to obtain an easy, short-lived triumph in the prejudiced eyes ofthe multitude; or in the stagnant minds of those who never examinedeeply; that chance is nothing but a word, as well as many other words, imagined solely to cover the ignorance of those to whom the course ofnature is inexplicable--to shield the idleness of others who are tooslothful to seek into the properties of acting causes. It is not chancethat has produced the universe, it is self-existent; nature existsnecessarily from all eternity: she is omnipotent because every thing isproduced by her energies; she is omnipresent, because she fills allspace; she is omniscient, because every thing can only be what itactually is; she is immovable, because as a whole she cannot bedisplaced; she is immutable, because her essence cannot change, althoughher forms may vary; she is infinite, because she cannot have any bounds;she is all perfect, because she contains every thing: in short, she hasall the abstract qualities of the metaphysician, all the moral facultiesof the theologian, without involving any contradiction, since that whichis the assemblage of all, must of necessity contain the properties ofall. 

However concealed may be her ways, the existence of nature isindubitable; her mode of action is in some respects known to us. Experience amply demonstrates we might, if we were more industrious, become better acquainted with her secrets; but with an immaterialsubstance, with a pure spirit, the mind of man can never becomefamiliar: he has no means by which he can picture to himself thisincomprehensible, this inconceivable quality: in despite therefore ofthe roundness of assertion adopted by the theologian, notwithstandingall the subtilties of the metaphysician, it will always be for man, while he remains such as he now is, in the language of Doctor SamuelClarke, that, _of which nothing can with truth be affirmed_. 

CHAP. VI. 

_Of Pantheism; or of the Natural Ideas of the Divinity. _

The false principle that matter is not self-existent; that by its natureit is in an impossibility to move itself; consequently incompetent tothe production of those striking phenomena which arrest our wonderingeyes in the wide expanse of the universe; it will be obvious, to all whoseriously attend to what has preceded, is the origin of the proofs uponwhich theology rests the existence of immateriality. After thesesuppositions, as gratuitous as they are erroneous, the fallacy of whichwe have exposed elsewhere, it has been believed that matter did notalways exist, but that its existence, as well as its motion, is aproduction of time; due to a cause distinguished from itself; to anunknown agent to whom it is subordinate. As man finds in his own speciesa quality which he calls intelligence, which presides over all hisactions, by the aid of which he arrives at the end he proposes tohimself; he has clothed this invisible agent with this quality, which hehas extended beyond the limits of his own conception: be magnified itthus, because, having made him the author of effects of which he foundhimself incapable, he did not conceive it possible that the intelligencehe himself possessed, unless it was prodigiously amplified, would besufficient to account for those productions, to which his erringjudgment led him to conclude the natural energy of physical causes werenot adequate. 

As this agent was invisible, as his mode of action was inconceivable, hemade him a spirit, a word that really means nothing more than that he isignorant of his essence, or that he acts like the breath of which hecannot trace the motion. Thus, in speaking of spirituality, hedesignated an occult quality, which he deemed suitable to a concealedbeing, whose mode of action was always imperceptible to the senses. Itwould appear, however, that originally the word spirit was not meant todesignate immateriality; but a matter of a more subtile nature than thatwhich acted coarsely on the organs: still of a nature capable ofpenetrating the grosser matter--of communicating to it motion--ofinstilling into it active life--of giving birth to those combinations--of imparting to them those modifications, which his organic structurerendered him competent to discover. Such was, as has been shewn, thatall-powerful Jupiter, who in the theology of the ancients, wasoriginally destined to represent the etherial, subtile matter thatpenetrates, vivifies, and gives activity to all the bodies of whichnature is the common assemblage. 

It would be grossly deceiving ourselves to believe that the idea ofspirituality, such as the subtilty of dreaming metaphysicians present itin these days, was that which offered itself to our forefathers in theearly stages of the human mind. This immateriality, which excludes allanalogy with any thing but itself--which bears no resemblance to anything of which man is capacitated to have a knowledge, was, as we havealready observed, the slow, the tardy fruit of his imagination, after hehad quitted experience, and renounced his reason. Men reared inluxurious leisure, unceasingly meditating, without the assistance ofthose natural helps with which attentive observation would havefurnished them, by degrees arrived at the formation of thisincomprehensible quality, which is so fugitive, that although man hasbeen compelled to reverence it, to accredit it against all the evidenceof his senses, they have never yet been enabled to give any otherexplanation of its nature, than by using a term to which it isimpossible to attach any intelligible idea. Seraphis said, with tears inhis eyes, "that in making him adopt the opinion of spirituality, theyhad deprived him of his God. " Many fathers of the church have given ahuman form to the Divinity, and treated all those as heretics who madehim spiritual. Thus by dint of reasoning, by force of subtilizing, theword spirit no longer presents any one image upon which the mind can fixitself; when they are desirous to speak of it, it becomes impossible tounderstand them, seeing that each visionary paints it after his ownmanner; and in the portrait he forms, consults only his own temperament, follows nothing but his own imagination, adopts nothing but his ownpeculiar reveries; the only point in which they are at all in unison, isin assigning to it inconceivable qualities, which they naturally enoughbelieve are best suited to the incomprehensible beings they havedelineated: from the incompatible heap of these qualities, generallyresulted a whole, whose existence they thus rendered impossible. Inshort, this word, which has occupied the research of so many learned andintelligent men; which is considered of such importance to mankind, hasbeen, in consequence of theological reveries, always fluctuating: thesenever bearing the least resemblance to each other, it has becomedestitute of any fixed sense, a mere sound, to which each who echoes itaffixes his own peculiar ideas, which are never in harmony with those ofhis neighbour; which indeed are not even steady in himself, but like thecamelion, assume the colour of every differing circumstance. Thisunintelligible word has been substituted for the more intelligible oneof matter; man, when clothed with power, has entertained the mostrancorous antipathies, pursued the most barbarous persecutions, againstthose who have not been enabled to contemplate this changeable ideaunder the same point of view with himself. 

There have, however, been men who had sufficient courage to resist thistorrent of opinion--to oppose themselves to this delirium; who havebelieved, that the object which was announced as the most important formortals, as the sole object worthy of their thoughts, demanded anattentive examination; who apprehended that if experience could be ofany utility, if judgment could afford any advantage, if reason was ofany use whatever, it must, most unquestionably be, to consider thisquality so opposed to every thing in nature, which was said to regulateall the beings which she contains. These quickly saw they could notsubscribe to the general opinion of the uninformed, who never examineany thing, who take every thing upon the credit of others; much less wasit consistent with sound sense to agree with their guides, who, eitherdeceivers or deceived, forbade others to submit it to the scrutiny ofreason; who were themselves frequently in an utter incapacity to pass itunder such an ordeal. Thus some thinkers, disgusted with the obscure andcontradictory notions which others had through habit mechanicallyattached to this incomprehensible property, had the temerity to shakeoff the yoke which had been imposed upon them from their infancy:calling reason to their aid against those terrors with which theyalarmed the ignorant, revolting at the hideous descriptions under whichthey attempted to defend their hypothesis, they had the intrepidity totear the veil of delusion; to rend asunder the barriers of imposture;they considered with calm resolution, this formidable prejudice, contemplated with a serene eye this unsupported opinion, examined withcool deliberation this fluctuating notion, which had become the objectof all the hopes, the source of all the fears, the spring of all thequarrels which distracted the mind, and disturbed the harmony of blind, confiding mortals. 

The result of these inquiries has uniformly been, a conviction that norational proof has ever been adduced in support of this hypothesis; thatfrom the nature of the thing itself, none can be offered; that anincorporeity is inconceivable to corporeal beings; that these onlybehold nature acting after invariable laws, in which every thing ismaterial; that all the phenomena of which the world is the theatre, spring out of natural causes; that man as well as all the other beingsis the work or this nature, is only an instrument in her hand, obligedto accomplish the eternal decrees of an imperious necessity. 

Whatever efforts the philosopher makes to penetrate the secrets ofnature, he never finds more, as we have many times repeated, thanmatter; various in itself, diversely modified in consequence of themotion it undergoes. Its whole, as well as its parts, displays onlynecessary causes producing necessary effects, which flow necessarily oneout of the other: of which the mind, aided by experience, is more orless competent to discover the concatenation. In virtue of theirspecific properties, all the beings that come under our review, gravitate towards a centre--attract analogous matter--repel that whichis unsuitable to combination--mutually receive and give impulse--acquirequalities--undergo modifications which maintain them in existence for aseason--are born and dissolved by the operation of an inexorable decree, that obliges every thing, we behold to pass into a new mode ofexistence. It is to these continued vicissitudes that are to be ascribedall the phenomena, whether trivial or of magnitude; ordinary orextraordinary; known or unknown; simple or complicated; which areoperated in the universe. It is by these mutations alone that we haveany knowledge of nature: she is only mysterious to those who contemplateher through the veil of prejudice: her course is always simple to thosewho look at her without prepossession. 

To attribute the effects to which we are witnesses, to nature, tomatter, variously combined with the motion that is inherent to it, is togive them an intelligible and known cause; to attempt to penetratedeeper, is to plunge ourselves into imaginary regions, where we findonly a chaos of obscurities--where we are lost in an unfathomable abyssof incertitude. Let us then be content with contemplating nature, who, being self-existent, must in her essence possess motion; which cannot beconceived without properties, from which result perpetual action and re-action; or those continual efforts which give birth to such a numeroustrain of circumstances; in which a single molecule cannot be found, thatdoes not necessarily occupy the place assigned to it, by immutable andnecessary laws--that is for an instant in an absolute state of repose. What necessity can there exist to seek out of matter for a power to giveit play, since its motion flows as necessarily out of its existence asits bulk, its form, its gravity, &c. Since nature in inaction would nolonger be nature?

If it be demanded, How can we figure to ourselves, that matter by itsown peculiar energy can produce all the effects we witness? I shallreply, that if by matter it is obstinately determined to understandnothing but a dead, inert mass, destitute of every property, incapableof moving itself, we shall no longer have a single idea of matter; weshall no longer be able to account for any thing. As soon, however, asit exists, it must have properties; as soon as it has properties, without which it could not exist, it must act by virtue of thoseproperties; since it is only by its action we can have a knowledge ofits existence, be conscious of its properties. It is evident that if bymatter be understood that which it is not, or if its existence bedenied, those phenomena which strike our visual organs cannot beattributed to it. But if by nature be understood (that which she reallyis), an heap of existing matter, possessing various properties, we shallbe obliged to acknowledge that nature must be competent to move herself;by the diversity of her motion, must have the capability, independent offoreign aid, to produce the effects we behold; we shall find thatnothing can be made from nothing; that nothing is made by chance; thatthe mode of action of every particle of matter, however minute, isnecessarily determined by its own peculiar, or by its individualproperties. 

We have elsewhere said, that that which cannot be annihilated--thatwhich in its nature is indestructible--cannot have been inchoate, cannothave had a beginning to its existence, but exists necessarily from alleternity; contains within itself a sufficient cause for its own peculiarexistence. It becomes then perfectly useless to seek out of nature acause for her action which is in some respects known to us; with whichindefatigable research may, judging of the future by the past, render usmore familiar. As we know some of the general properties of matter; aswe can discover some of its qualities, wherefore should we seek itsmotion in an unintelligible cause, of which we are not in a condition tobecome acquainted with any one of its properties? Can we conceive thatimmateriality could ever draw matter from its own source? Impossible; itis not within the grasp of human intellect. If creation is an eductionfrom nothing, there must have been a time when matter had not existence;there must consequently be a time when it will cease to be: this latteris acknowledged by many theologians themselves to be impossible. Dothose who are continually talking of this mysterious act of omnipotence, by which a mass of matter has been, all at once, substituted to nothing, perfectly understand what they tell us? Is there a man on earth whoconceives that a being devoid of extent can exist, become the cause ofthe existence of beings who have extent--act upon matter--draw it fromhis own peculiar essence--set it in motion? In truth, the more weconsider theology, the more we must be convinced that it has inventedwords destitute of sense; substituted sounds to intelligible realities. 

For want of consulting experience, for want or studying nature, for wantof examining the material world, we have plunged ourselves into anintellectual vacuum, which we have peopled with chimeras, We have notstooped to consider matter, to study its different periods, to follow itthrough its numerous, changes. We have either ridiculously or knavishlyconfounded dissolution, decomposition, the separation of the elementaryparticles of bodies, with their radical destruction; we have beenunwilling to see that the elements are indestructible; although theforms are fleeting, and depend upon transitory combination. We have notdistinguished the change of figure, the alteration of position, themutation of texture, to which matter is liable, from its annihilation, which is impossible; we have falsely concluded, that matter Was not anecessary being--that it commenced to exist--that this existence wasderived from that which possessed nothing in common with itself--thatthat which was not substance, could give birth to that which is. Thus anunintelligible name has been substituted for matter, which furnishes uswith true ideas of nature; of which at each instant we experience theinfluence, of which we undergo the action, of which we feel the power, and of which we should have a much better knowledge, if our abstractopinions did not continually fasten a bandage over our eyes. 

Indeed the most simple notions of philosophy shew us, that, althoughbodies change and disappear, nothing is however lost in nature; thevarious produce of the decomposition of a body serves for elements, supplies materials, forms the basis, lays the foundation for accretions, contributes to the maintenance of other bodies. The whole of naturesubsists, and is conserved only by the circulation, the transmigration, the exchange, the perpetual displacement of insensible atoms--thecontinual mutation of the sensible combinations of matter. It is by thispalingenesia, this regeneration, that the great whole, the mightymacrocosm subsists; who, like the Saturn of the ancients, is perpetuallyoccupied with devouring her own children. 

It will not then be inconsistent with observation, repugnant to reason, contrary to good sense, to acknowledge that matter is self-existent;that it acts by an energy peculiar to itself; that it will never beannihilated. Let us then say, that matter is eternal; that nature hasbeen, is, and ever will be occupied with producing and destroying; withdoing and undoing; with combining and separating; in short, withfollowing a system of laws resulting from its necessary existence. Forevery thing that she doth, she needs only to combine the elements ofmatter; these, essentially diverse, necessarily either attract or repeleach other; come into collision, from whence results either their unionor dissolution; by the same laws that one approximates, the otherrecedes from their respective spheres of action. It is thus that shebrings forth plants, fossils, animals, men; thus she gives existence toorganized, sensible, thinking beings, as well as to those who aredestitute of either feeling or thought. All these act for the season oftheir respective duration, according to immutable laws, determined bytheir various properties; arising out of their configuration; dependingon their masses; resulting from their ponderosity, &c. Here is the trueorigin of every thing which is presented to our view; this indicates themode by which nature, according to her own peculiar powers, is in astate to produce all those astonishing effects which assail ourwondering eyes; all that phenomena to which mankind is the witness; aswell as all the bodies who act diversely upon the organs with which heis furnished, of which he can only judge according to the manner inwhich these organs are affected. He says they are good, when they areanalogous to his own mode of existence--when they contribute to themaintenance of the harmony of his machine: he says they are bad, whenthey disturb this harmony. It is thus he ascribes views, ideas, designs, to the being he supposes to be the power by which nature is moved;although all the experience we are able to collect, unequivocallyproves, that she acts after an invariable, eternal code of laws. 

Nature is destitute of those views which actuate man; she actsnecessarily, because she exists: her system is immutable, and foundedupon the essence of things. It is the essence of the seed of the male, composed of primitive elements, which serve for the basis of anorganized being, to unite itself with that of the female; to fructifyit; to produce, by this combination, a new organized being; who, feeblein his origin, not having yet acquired a sufficient quantity of materialparticles to give him consistence, corroborates himself by degrees;strengthens himself by the daily accretion of analogous matter; isnourished by the modifications appropriate to his existence: matured bythe continuation of circumstances calculated to give vigour to hisframe; thus he lives, thinks, acts, engenders in his turn otherorganized beings similar to himself. By a consequence of his temperamentand of physical laws, this generation does not take place, except whenthe circumstances necessary to its production find themselves united. Thus this procreation is not operated by chance; the animal does notfructify, but with an animal of his own species, because this is theonly one analogous to himself, who unites the qualities, who combinesthe circumstances, suitable to produce a being resembling himself;without this he would not produce any thing, or he would only give birthto a being who would be denominated a monster, because it would bedissimilar to himself. It is of the essence of the grain of plants, tobe impregnated by the pollen or seed of the stygma of the flower; inthis state of copulation they in consequence develope themselves in thebowels of the earth; expand by the aid of water; shoot forth by theaccession of heat; attract analogous particles to corroborate theirsystem: thus by degrees they form a plant, a shrub, a tree, susceptibleof that life, filled with that motion, capable of that action which issuitable to vegetable existence. It is of the essence of particularparticles of earth, homogeneous in their nature, when separated bycircumstances, attenuated by water, elaborated by heat, to unitethemselves in the bosom of mountains, with other atoms which areanalogous; to form by their aggregation, according to their variousaffinities, those bodies possessing more or less solidity; having moreor less purity, which are called diamonds, chrystals, stones, metals, minerals. It is of the essence of exhalations raised by the heat of theatmosphere, to combine, to collect themselves, to dash against eachother, and either by their union or their collision to produce meteors, to generate thunder. It is of the essence of some inflammable matter togather itself together, to ferment in the caverns of the earth, toincrease its active force by augmenting its heat, and then explode, bythe accession of other matter suitable to the operation, with thattremendous force which we call earthquakes; by which mountains aredestroyed; cities overturned; the inhabitants of the plains thrown intoa state of consternation; these full of alarm, unused to meditate onnatural effects, unconscious of the extent of physical powers, stretchforth their hands in dismay, heave the most desponding sighs, utteraloud their complaints, and earnestly implore a cessation of thoseevils, which nature, acting by necessary laws, obliges them toexperience as necessarily as she does those benefits by which she fillsthem with the most extravagant joy. In short, it is of the essence ofcertain climates to produce men so organized, whose temperament is somodified, that they become either extremely useful or very prejudicialto their species, in the same manner as it is the property of certainportions of the land, to bring forth either delicious fruits ordangerous poisons. 

In all this nature acts necessarily; she pursues an undeviating course, which we are bound to consider the perfection of wisdom; because sheexists necessarily, has her modes of action determined by certain, invariable laws, which themselves flow out of the constituent propertiesof the various beings she contains, and those circumstances, which theeternal motion she is in must necessarily bring about. It is ourselveswho have a necessary aim, which is our own conservation; it is by thisthat we regulate all the ideas we form to ourselves of the causes actingin nature; it is according to this standard we judge of every thing wesee or feel. Animated ourselves, existing after a certain manner, possessing a soul endowed with rare and peculiar qualities, we, like thesavage, ascribe a soul and animated life to every thing that acts uponus. Thinking and intelligent ourselves, we give these, faculties tothose beings whom we suppose to be more powerful than mortals; but as wesee the generality of matter incapable of modifying itself, we supposeit must receive its impulse from some concealed agent, some externalcause, which our imagination pictures as similar to ourselves. Necessarily attracted by that which is advantageous to us, repelling byan equal necessity that which is prejudicial to our manner of existence;we cease to reflect that our modes of feeling are due to our peculiarorganization, modified by physical causes: in this state, either ofinattention or ignorance, we mistake the natural results of our ownpeculiar structure, for instruments employed by a being whom we clothewith our own passions--whom we suppose actuated by our own views--who, possessing our ideas, embraces a mode of thinking and acting similar toourselves. 

If after this it be asked, What is the end of nature? We shall replythat on this head we are ignorant; that it is more than probable no manwill ever fathom the secret; but we shall also say, it is evidently toexist, to act, to conserve her whole. If then it be demanded, Whereforeshe exists? We shall again reply, of this we know nothing at present, possibly never shall; but we shall also say, she exists necessarily, that her operations, her motion, her phenomena, are the necessaryconsequences of her necessary existence. There necessarily existssomething; this is nature or the universe, this nature necessarily actsas she does. If it be wished to substitute any other word for nature, the question will still remain as it did, as to the cause of herexistence; the end she has in view. It is not by changing of terms thata geometrician can solve problems; one word will throw no more light ona subject than another, unless that word carries a certain degree ofconviction in the ideas which it generates. As long as we speak ofmatter, if we cannot develope all its properties, we shall at least havefixed, determinate ideas; something tangible, of which we have a slightknowledge, that we can submit to the examination of our senses: but fromthe moment we begin to talk of immateriality, of incorporeity, fromthence our ideas become confused; we are lost in a labyrinth ofconjecture--we have no one means of seizing the subject on any side--weare, after the most elaborate arguments, after the most subtlereasoning, obliged to acknowledge we cannot form the most slenderopinion respecting it, that has any thing substantive for its support. In short, that it is precisely that thing "of which every thing may bedenied, but of which nothing can with truth be affirmed. " Let us clothethis incomprehensible being with whatever qualities we may, it will bealways in ourselves we seek the model; they will be our own facultiesthat we delineate, our own passions that we describe. In like mannerman, as long as he is ignorant, will always conjecture that it is forhimself alone the universe was formed; not withstanding, he has nothingmore to do, than to open his eyes in order to be undeceived. He willthen see, that he undergoes a common destiny, equally partakes with allother beings of the benefits, shares with them without exception theevils of life; like them he is submitted to an imperious necessity, inexorable in its decrees; which is itself nothing more than the sumtotal of those laws which nature herself is obliged to follow. 

Thus every thing proves that nature, or matter, exists necessarily; thatit cannot in any moment swerve from those laws imposed upon it by itsexistence. If it cannot be annihilated, it cannot have been inchoate. The theologian himself agrees that it requires a miracle to annihilatean atom. But is it possible to derogate from the necessary laws ofexistence? Can that which exists necessarily, act but according to thelaws peculiar to itself? Miracle is another word invented to shield ourown sloth, to cover our own ignorance; it is that by which we wish todesignate those rare occurrences, those solitary effects of naturalcauses, whose infrequency do not afford us means of diving into theirsprings. It is only saying by another expression, that an unknown causehath by modes which we cannot trace, produced an uncommon effect whichwe did not expect, which therefore appears strange to us. This granted, the intervention of words, far from removing the ignorance in which wefound ourselves with respect to the power and capabilities of nature, only serves to augment it, to give it more durability. The creation ofmatter becomes to our mind as incomprehensible, and appears asimpossible as its annihilation. 

Let us then conclude that all those words which do not present to themind any determinate idea, ought to be banished the language of thosewho are desirous of speaking so as to be understood; that abstractterms, invented by ignorance, are only calculated to satisfy mendestitute of experience; who are too slothful to study nature, too timidto search into her ways; that they are suitable only to content thoseenthusiasts, whose curious imagination pleases itself with makingfruitless endeavours to spring beyond the visible world; who occupythemselves with chimeras of their own creation: in short, that thesewords are useful only to those whose sole profession it is to feed theears of the uninformed with pompous sounds, that are not comprehended bythemselves--upon the sense of which they are in a state of perpetualhostility with each other--upon the true meaning of which they havenever yet been able to come to a common agreement; which each sees afterhis own peculiar manner of contemplating objects, in which there neverwas, nor probably never will be, the least harmony of feeling. 

Man is a material being; he cannot consequently have any ideas, but ofthat which like himself is material; that is to say, of that which is ina capacity to act upon his organs, which has some qualities analogouswith his own. In despite of himself, he always assigns materialproperties to his gods; the impossibility he finds in compassing them, has made him suppose them to be spiritual; distinguished from thematerial world. Indeed he, must be content, either not to understandhimself, or he must have material ideas of the Divinity; the human mindmay torture itself as long as it pleases, it will never, after all itsefforts, be enabled to comprehend, that material effects can emanatefrom immaterial causes; or that such causes can have any relation withmaterial beings. Here is the reason why man, as we have seen, believeshimself obliged to give to his gods, these morals which he so much sohighly esteems, in those beings of his race, who are fortunate enough topossess them: he forgets that a being who is spiritual, adopting thetheological hypothesis, cannot from thence either have his organization, or his ideas; that it cannot think in his mode, nor act after hismanner; that consequently it cannot possess what he calls intelligence, wisdom, goodness, anger, justice, &c. As he himself understands thoseterms. Thus, in truth, the moral qualities with which he has clothed theDivinity, supposes him material, and the most abstract theologicalnotions, are, after all, founded upon a direct, undeniable_Anthropomorphism_. 

In despite of all their subtilties, the theologians cannot do otherwise;like all the beings of the human species, they have a knowledge ofmatter alone: they have no real idea of a pure spirit. When they speakof the intelligence, of the wisdom, of the designs of their gods, theyare always those of men which they describe, that they obstinatelypersist in giving to beings, of which, according to their own shewing, to the evidence they themselves adduce, their essence does not renderthem susceptible; who if they had those qualities with which they clothethem, would from that very moment cease to be incorporeal; would be inthe truest sense of the word, substantive matter. How shall we reconcilethe assertion, that beings who have not occasion for any thing--who aresufficient to them selves--whose projects must be executed as soon asthey are formed; can have volition, passions, desires? How shall weattribute anger to beings without either blood or bile? How can weconceive an omnipotent being (whose wisdom we admire in the strikingorder he has himself established in the universe, ) can permit that thisbeautiful arrangement should be continually disturbed, either by theelements in discord, or by the crimes of human beings? In short, thisbeing cannot have any one of the human qualities, which always dependupon the peculiar organization of man--upon his wants--upon hisinstitutions, which are themselves always relative to the society inwhich he lives. The theologian vainly strives to aggrandize, toexaggerate in idea, to carry to perfection by dint of abstraction, themoral qualities of man; they are unsuitable to the Divinity; in vain itis asserted they are in him of a different nature from what they are inhis creatures; that they are perfect; infinite; supreme; eminent; inholding this language, they no longer understand themselves; they canhave no one idea of the qualities they are describing, seeing that mancan never have a conception of them, but inasmuch as they bear ananalogy to the same qualities in himself. 

It is thus that by force of metaphysical subtilty, mortals have nolonger any fixed, any determinate idea of the beings to which they havegiven birth. But little contented with understanding physical causes, with contemplating active nature; weary of examining matter, whichexperience proves is competent to the production of every thing, man hasbeen desirous to despoil it of the energy which it is its essence topossess, in order to invest it in a pure spirit; in an immaterialsubstance; which he is under the necessity of re-making a materialbeing, whenever he has an inclination either to form an idea of it tohimself, or make it understood by others. In assembling the parts ofman, which he does no more than enlarge, which he swells out toinfinity, he believes he forms an immaterial being, who, for thatreason, acquires the capability of performing all those phenomena, withthe true causes of which he is ignorant; nevertheless those operationsof which he does comprehend the spring, he as sedulously denies to bedue to the powers of this being; time, therefore, according to theseideas, as he advances the progress of science, as he further developesthe secrets of nature, is continually diminishing the number of actionsascribed to this being--is constantly circumscribing his sphere ofaction. It is upon the model of the human soul that he forms the soul ofnature, or that secret agent from which she receives impulse. Afterhaving made himself double, he makes nature in like manner twofold, andthen he supposes she is vivified by an intelligence, which he borrowsfrom himself, Placed in an impossibility of becoming acquainted withthis agent, as well as with that which he has gratuitously distinguishedfrom his own body; he has invented the word spiritual to cover up hisignorance; which is only in other words avowing it is a substanceentirely unknown to him. From that moment, however, he has no ideaswhatever of what he himself has done; because he first clothes it withall the qualities he esteems in his fellows, and then destroys them byan assurance, that they in no wise resemble the qualities he has been soanxious to bestow. To remedy this inconvenience, he concludes thisspiritual substance much more noble than matter; that its prodigioussubtilty, which he calls simplicity, but which is only the effect ofmetaphysical abstraction, secures it from decomposition, fromdissolution, from all those revolutions, to which material bodies, asproduced by nature, are evidently exposed. 

It is thus, that man always prefers the marvellous to the simple; theunintelligible to the intelligible; that which he cannot comprehend, tothat which is within the range of his understanding; he despises thoseobjects which are familiar to him; he estimates those alone with whichhe is incapable of having any intercourse: that of which he has onlyconfused vague ideas, he concludes must contain something important forhim to know--must have something supernatural in its construction. Inshort, he needs mystery to move his imagination--to exercise his mind--to feed his curiosity; which never labours harder, than when it isoccupied with enigmas impossible to be guessed at; which from that verycircumstance, he judges to be extremely worthy of his research. This, without doubt, is the reason he looks upon matter, which he hascontinually under his eyes, which he sees perpetually in action, eternally changing its form, as a contemptible thing--as a contingentbeing, that does not exist necessarily; consequently, that cannot existindependently: this is the reason why he has imagined a spirit, which hewill never be able to conceive; which on that account he declares to besuperior to matter; which he roundly asserts to be anterior to nature, and the only self-existent being. The human wind found food in thesemystical ideas, they unceasingly occupied it; the imagination had play, it embellished them after its own manner: ignorance fed itself with thefables to which these mysteries gave rise; habit identified them withthe existence of man himself: when each could ask the other concerningthese ideas, without any one being in a capacity to return a directanswer, he felt himself gratified, he immediately concluded that thegeneral impossibility of reply stamped them with the wondrous faculty ofimmediately interesting his welfare; of involving his most prominentinterests, more than all the things put together, with which he had anypossible means of becoming intimately acquainted. Thus they becamenecessary to his happiness; he believed he fell into a vacuum withoutthem; he became the decided enemy to all those who endeavoured to leadhim back to nature, which he had learned to despise; to consider only asan impotent mass, an heap of inert matter, not possessing any energy butwhat it received from causes exterior to itself; as a contemptibleassemblage of fragile combinations, whose forms were continually subjectto perish. 

In distinguishing nature from her mover, man has fallen into the sameabsurdity as when he separated his soul from his body; life from theliving being; the faculty of thought from the thinking being: deceivedon his own peculiar nature, having taken up an erroneous opinion uponthe energy of his own organs, he has in like manner been deceived uponthe organization of the universe; he has distinguished nature fromherself; the life of nature from living nature; the action of naturefrom active nature. It was this soul of the world--this energy ofnature--this principle of activity, which man first personified, thenseparated by abstraction; sometimes decorated with imaginary attributes;sometimes with qualities borrowed from his own peculiar essence. Suchwere the aerial materials of which man availed himself to construct theincomprehensible, immaterial substances, which have filled the worldwith disputes--which have divided man from his fellow--which to this dayhe has never been able to define, even to his own satisfaction. His ownsoul was the model. Deceived upon the nature of this, he never had anyjust ideas of the Divinity, who was, in his mind, nothing more than acopy exaggerated or disfigured to that degree, as to make him mistakethe prototype upon which it had been originally formed. 

If, because man has distinguished himself from his own existence, it hasbeen impossible for him ever to form to himself any true idea of his ownnature; it is also because he has distinguished nature from herself, that both herself and her ways have been mistaken. Man has ceased tostudy nature, that he might, recur by thought to a substance whichpossesses nothing in common with her; this substance he has made themover of nature, without which she would not be capable of any thing; towhom every thing that takes place in her system, must be attributed; theconduct of this being has appeared mysterious, has been held up asmarvellous, because he seemed to be a continual contradiction: when ifman had but recurred to the immutability of the laws of nature, to theinvariable system she pursues, all would have appeared intelligible;every thing would have been reconciled; the apparent contrariety wouldhave vanished. By thus taking a wrong view of things, wisdom andintelligence appeared to be opposed by confusion and disorder; goodnessto be rendered nugatory by evil; while all is only just what it mustinevitably be, under the given circumstances. In consequence of theseerroneous opinions, in the place of applying himself to the study ofnature, to discover the method of obtaining her favors, or to seek themeans of throwing aside his misfortunes; in the room of consulting hisexperience; in lieu of labouring usefully to his own happiness; he hasbeen only occupied with expecting these things by channels through whichthey do not flow; he has been disputing upon objects be never canunderstand, while he has totally neglected that which was within thecompass of his own powers; which he might have rendered propitious tohis views, by a more industrious application of his own talent; by apatient investigation, for the purpose of drawing at the fountain oftruth, the limpid balsam that alone can heal the sorrows or his heart. 

Nothing could be well more prejudicial to his race, than thisextravagant theory; which, as we shall prove, has become the source ofinnumerable evils. Man has been for thousands of years trembling beforeidols of his own creation--bowing down before them with the most servilehomage--occupied with disarming their wrath--sedulously employed inpropitiating their kindness, without ever advancing a single step on theroad he so much desires to travel. He will perhaps continue the samecourse for centuries to come, unless by some unlooked for exertion onhis part, he shall happen to discard the prejudices which blind him; tolay aside his enthusiasm for the marvellous; to quit his fondness forthe enigmatical; rally round the standard of his reason: unless, takingexperience for his guide, he march undauntedly forward under the bannerof truth, and put to the rout that host of unintelligible jargon, underthe cumbrous load of which he has lost sight of his own happiness; whichhas but too frequently prevented him from seeking the only meansadequate either to satisfy his wants, or to ameliorate the evils whichhe is necessarily obliged to experience. 

Let us then re-conduct bewildered mortals to the altar of nature; let usendeavour to destroy that delusion which the ignorance of man, aided bya disordered imagination, has induced him to elevate to her throne; letus strive to dissipate that heavy mist which obscures to him the pathsof truth; let us seek to banish from his mind those visionary ideaswhich prevent him from giving activity to his experience; let us teachhim if possible not to seek out of nature herself, the causes of thephenomena he admires--to rest satisfied that she contains remedies forall his evils--that she has manifold benefits in store for those, who, rallying their industry, are willingly patiently to investigate herlaws--that she rarely withholds her secrets from the researches of thosewho diligently labour to unravel them. Let us assure him that reasonalone can render him happy; that reason is nothing more than the scienceof nature, applied to the conduct of man in society; that this reasonteaches that every thing is necessary; that his pleasures as well as hissorrows are the effects of nature, who in all her works follows onlylaws which nothing can make her revoke; that his interest demands heshould learn to support with equanimity of mind, all those evils whichnatural means do not enable him to put aside. In short, let usunceasingly repeat to him, it is in rendering his fellow creature happy, that he will himself arrive at a felicity he will in vain expect fromothers, when his own conduct refuses it to him. 

Nature is self-existent; she will always exist; she produces everything; contains within herself the cause of every thing; her motion is anecessary consequence of her existence; without motion we could form noconception of nature; under this collective name we designate theassemblage of matter acting by virtue of its peculiar energies. Everything proves to us, that it is not out of nature man ought to seek theDivinity. If we have only an incomplete knowledge of nature and herways--if we have only superficial, imperfect ideas of matter, how shallwe be able to flatter ourselves with understanding or having any certainnotions of immateriality, of beings so much more fugitive, so much moredifficult to compass, even by thought, than the material elements; somuch more shy of access than either the constituent principles ofbodies, their primitive properties, their various modes of acting, ortheir different manner of existing? If we cannot recur to first causes, let its content ourselves with second causes, with those effects whichwe can submit to experience, let us collect the facts with which we havean acquaintance; they will enable us to judge of what we do not know:let us at least confine ourselves to the feeble glimmerings of truthwith which our senses furnish us, since we do not possess means wherebyto acquire broader masses of light. 

Do not let us mistake for real sciences, those which have no other basisthan our imagination; we shall find that such can at most be butvisionary: let us cling close to nature which we see, which we feel, ofwhich we experience the action; of which at least we understand thegeneral laws. If we are ignorant of her detail, if we cannot fathom thesecret principles she employs in her most complicated productions, weare at least certain she acts in a permanent, uniform, analogous, necessary manner. Let us then observe this nature; let us watch hermovements; but never let us endeavour to quit the routine she prescribesfor the beings of our species: if we do, we shall not only be obliged toreturn, but we shall also infallibly be punished with numberless errors, which will darken our mind, estrange us from reason; the necessaryconsequence will be countless sorrows, which we may otherwise avoid. Letus consider we are sensible parts of a whole, in which the forms areonly produced to be destroyed; in which combinations are ushered intolife, that they may again quit it, after having subsisted for a longeror a shorter season. Let us look upon nature as an immense elaboratorywhich contains every thing necessary for her action; who lacks nothingrequisite for the production of all the phenomena she displays to oursight. Let us acknowledge her power to be inherent in her essence; amplycommensurate to her eternal march; fully adequate to the happiness ofall the beings she contains. Let us consider her as a whole, who canonly maintain herself by what we call the discord of the elements; thatshe exists by the continual dissolution and re-union of her parts; thatfrom this springs the universal harmony; that from this the generalstability has its birth. Let us then re-establish omnipotent nature, solong mistaken by man, in her legitimate rights. Let us place her on thatadamantine throne, which it is for the felicity of the human race sheshould occupy. Let us surround her with those ministers who can neverdeceive, who can never forfeit our confidence--_Justice and PracticalKnowledge_. Let us listen to her eternal voice; she neither speaksambiguously, nor in an unintelligible language; she may be easilycomprehended by the people of all nations; because _Reason_ is herfaithful interpreter. She offers nothing to our contemplation butimmutable truths. Let us then for ever impose silence on that enthusiasmwhich leads us astray; let us put to the blush that imposture whichwould riot on our credulity; let us discard that gloomy superstition, which has drawn us aside from the only worship suitable to intelligentbeings. Above all, never let us forget that the temple of happiness canonly be reached through the groves of virtue, which surround it on everyside; that the paths which lead to these beautiful walks can only beentered by the road of experience, the portals of which are alone openedto those who apply to them the key of truth: this key is of very simplestructure, has no complicated intricacy of wards, and is easily formedon the anvil of social intercourse, merely by _not doing unto othersthat which you would not wish they should do unto you. _

CHAP. VII. 

_Of Theism. --Of the System of Optimism. --Of final Causes_. 

Very few men have either the courage or the industry to examineopinions, which every one is in agreement to acknowledge; there isscarcely any one who ventures to doubt their truth, even when no solidarguments have been adduced in their support. The natural supineness ofman readily receives them without examination upon the authority ofothers--communicates them to his successors in the season of theirinfancy; thus is transmitted from race to race, notions which oncehaving obtained the sanction of time, are contemplated as clothed with asacred character, although perhaps to an unprejudiced mind, who shouldbe bent on searching into their foundation, no proofs will appear, thatthey ever were verified. It is thus with immateriality: it has passedcurrent from father to son for many ages, without these having done anything more than habitually consign to their brain those obscure ideaswhich were at first attached to it, which it is evident, from theadmission even of its advocates, can never be removed, to admit othersof a more enlightened nature. Indeed how can it possibly be, that lightcan be thrown upon an incomprehensible subject: each therefore modifiesit after his own manner; each gives it that colouring that mostharmonizes with his own peculiar existence; each contemplates it underthat perspective which is the issue of his own particular vision: thisfrom the nature of things cannot be the same in every individual: theremust then of necessity be a great contrariety in the opinions resulting. It is thus also that each man forms to himself a God in particular, after his own peculiar temperament--according to his own naturaldispositions: the individual circumstances under which he is found, thewarmth of his imagination, the prejudices he has received, the mode inwhich he is at different times affected, have all their influence in thepicture he forms. The contented, healthy man, does not see him with thesame eyes as the man who is chagrined and sick; the man with a heatedblood, who has an ardent imagination, or is subject to bile, does notpourtray him under the same traits as he who enjoys a more peaceablesoul, who has a cooler fancy, who is of a more phlegmatic habit. This isnot all; even the same individual does not view him in the same mannerat different periods of his life: he undergoes all the variations of hismachine--all the revolutions of his temperament--all those continualvicissitudes which his existence experiences. The idea of the Divinityis said to be innate; on the contrary, it is perpetually fluctuating inthe mind of each individual; varies every moment in all the beings ofthe human species; so much so, that there are not two who admitprecisely the same Deity; there is not a single one, who, underdifferent circumstances, does not see him variously. 

Do not then let us be surprised at the variety of systems adopted bymankind on this subject; it ought not to astonish us that there is solittle harmony existing among men upon a point of such consequence; itought not to appear strange that so much contradiction should prevail inthe various doctrines held forth; that they should have such littleconsistency, such slender connection with each other; that theprofessors should dispute continually upon the rectitude of the opinionsadopted by each: they must necessarily wrangle upon that which eachcontemplates so variously--upon which there is hardly a single mortalwho is constantly in accord with himself. 

All men are pretty well agreed upon those objects which they are enabledto submit to the test of experience; we do not hear any disputes uponthe principles of geometry; those truths that are evident, that areeasily demonstrable, never vary in our mind; we never doubt that thepart is less than the whole; that two and two make four; thatbenevolence is an amiable quality; that equity is necessary to man insociety. But we find nothing but perpetual controversy upon all thosesystems which have the Divinity for their object; they are full ofincertitude; subject to continual variations: we do not see any harmonyeither in the principles of theology, or in the principles of itsgraduates. Even the proofs offered of his existence have been thesubject of cavil; they have either been thought too feeble, have beenbrought forward against rule, or else have not been taken up withsufficient zeal to please the various reasoners who advocate the cause;the corollaries drawn from the premises laid down, are not the same inany two nations, scarcely in two individuals; the thinkers of all ages, in all countries, are perpetually in rivalry with each other;unceasingly quarrel upon all the points of religion; can never agreeeither upon their theological hypotheses, or upon the fundamental truthswhich should serve for their basis; even the attributes, the veryqualities ascribed, are as warmly contested by some, as they arezealously defended by others. 

These never-ending disputes, these perpetual variations, ought, atleast, to convince the unprejudiced, that the ideas of the Divinity haveneither the generally-admitted evidence, nor the certitude which areattributed to them; on the contrary, these contrarieties in the opinionsof the theologians, if submitted to the logic of the schools, might befatal to the whole of them: according to that mode of reasoning, whichat least has the sanction of our universities, all the probabilities inthe world cannot acquire the force of a demonstration; a truth is notmade evident but when constant experience, reiterated reflection, exhibits it always under the same point of view; the evidence of aproposition cannot be admitted unless it carries with it a substantivedemonstration; from the constant relation which is made by wellconstituted senses, results that evidence, that certitude, which alonecan produce full conviction: if the major proposition of a syllogismshould be overturned by the minor, the whole falls to the ground. Cicero, who is no mean authority on such a subject, says expressly, "Noreasoning can render that false, which experience has demonstrated asevident. " Wolff, in his Ontology, says; "That which is repugnant initself, cannot possibly be understood; that those things which are inthemselves contradictions, must always be deficient of evidence. " St. Thomas says, "Being, is all that which is not repugnant to existence. "

However it may he with these qualities, which the theologians assign totheir immaterial beings, whether they may be irreconcileable, or whetherthey are totally incomprehensible, what can result to the human speciesin supposing them to have intelligence and views? Can an universalintelligence, whose care must be equally extended to every thing thatexists, have more direct, more intimate relations with man, who onlyforms an insensible portion of the great whole? Can we seriously believethat it is to make joyful the insects, to gratify the ants of hisgarden, that the Monarch of the universe has constructed and embellishedhis habitation? Would our feeble eyes, therefore, become stronger--wouldour narrow views of things be enlarged--should we be better capacitatedto understand his projects--could we with more certitude divine hisplans, enter into his designs--would our exility of judgment becompetent to measure his wisdom, to follow the eternal order he hasestablished? Will those effects, which flow from his omnipotence, emanate from his providence--whether we estimate them as good, orwhether we tax them as evil--whether we consider them beneficial, orview them as prejudicial--be less the necessary results of his wisdom, of his justice, of his eternal decrees? In this case can we reasonablysuppose that a Being, so wise, so just, so intelligent, will derange hissystem, change his plan, for such weak beings as ourselves? Can werationally believe we have the capacity to address worthy prayers, tomake suitable requests, to point out proper modes of conduct to such aBeing? Can we at all flatter ourselves that to please us, to gratify ourdiscordant wishes, he will alter his immutable laws? Can we imagine thatat our entreaty he will take from the beings who surround us theiressences, their properties, their various modes of action? Have we anyright to expect he will abrogate in our behalf the eternal laws ofnature, that he will disturb her eternal march, arrest her ever-lastingcourse, which his wisdom has planned; which his goodness has conferred;which are, in fact, the admiration of mankind? Can we hope that in ourfavour fire will cease to burn, when we approximate it too closely; thatfever shall not consume our habit, when contagion has penetrated oursystem; that gout shall not torment us, when an intemperate mode of lifeshall have amassed the humours that necessarily result from suchconduct; that an edifice tumbling in ruins shall not crush us by itsfall, when we are within the vortex of its action? Will our vain cries, our most fervent supplications, prevent a country from being unhappy, when it shall be devastated by an ambitious conqueror; when it shall besubmitted to the capricious will of unfeeling tyrants, who bend itbeneath the iron rod of their oppression?

If this infinite intelligence gives a free course to those events whichhis wisdom has prepared; if nothing happens in this world but after hisimpenetrable designs; we ought silently to submit; we have in factnothing to ask; we should be madmen to oppose our own weak intellect tosuch capacious wisdom; we should offer an insult to his prudence if wewere desirous to regulate them. Man must not flatter himself that he iswiser than his God; that he is in a capacity to make him change hiswill; with having power to determine him to take other means than thosewhich he has chosen to accomplish his decrees. An intelligent Divinitycan only have taken those measures which embrace complete justice; canonly have availed himself of those means which are best calculated toarrive at his end; if he was capable of changing them, he could neitherbe called wise, immutable, nor provident. If it was to be granted, thatthe Divinity did for a single instant suspend those laws which hehimself has given, if he was to change any thing in his plan, it wouldbe supposing he had not foreseen the motives of this suspension; that hehad not calculated the causes of this change; if he did not make thesemotives enter into his plan, it would be saying he had not foreseen thecauses that render them necessary: if he has foreseen them withoutmaking them part of his system, it would be arraigning the perfection ofthe whole. Thus in whatever manner these things are contemplated, underwhatever point of view they are examined, it is evident that the prayerswhich man addresses to the Divinity, which are sanctioned by thedifferent modes of worship, always suppose he is supplicating a beingwhose wisdom and providence are defective; in fact, that his own is moreappropriate to his situation. To suppose he is capable of change in hisconduct, is to bring his omniscience into question; to vitally attackhis omnipotence; to arraign his goodness; at once to say, that he eitheris not willing or not competent to judge what would be most expedientfor man; for whose sole advantage and pleasure they will, notwithstanding, insist he created the universe: such are theinconsistent doctrines of theology; such the imbecile efforts ofmetaphysics. 

It is, however, upon these notions, extravagant as they may appear, illdirected as they assuredly are, inconclusive as they must beacknowledged by unprejudiced minds, that are founded all thesuperstitions and many of the religions of the earth. It is by no meansan uncommon sight, to see man upon his knees before an all-wise God, whose conduct he is endeavouring to regulate; whose decrees he wishes toavert; whose plan he is desirous to reform. These inconsistent objectshe is occupied with gaining, by means equally repugnant to sound sense;equally injurious to the dignity of the Divinity: adopting his ownsensations as the criterion of the feelings of the Deity; in some placeshe tries to win him to his interests by presents; sometimes we beholdeven the princes of the earth attempting to direct his views, byoffering him splendid garments, upon which their own fatuity sets aninordinate value, merely because they have laboured at them themselves;some strive to disarm his justice by the most splendid pageantry; othersby practices the most revolting to humanity; some think his immutabilitywill yield to idle ceremonies; others to the most discordant prayers; itnot unfrequently happens that to induce him to change in their favourhis eternal decrees, those who have opposite interests to promote, eachreturns him thanks for that which the others consider as the greatestcurse that can befal them. In short, man is almost every where prostratebefore an omnipotent God, who, if we were to judge by the discrepancy oftheir requests, never has rendered his creatures such as they ought tobe; who to accomplish his divine views has never taken the propermeasures, who to fulfil his wisdom has continual need of the admonitionsof man, conveyed either in the form of thanks or prayers. 

We see, then, that superstition is founded upon manifest contradictions, which man must always fall into when he mistakes the natural causes ofthings--when he shall attribute the good or evil which he experiences toan intelligent cause, distinguished from nature, of which he will neverbe competent to form to himself any certain ideas. Indeed, man willalways be reduced, as we have so frequently repeated, to the necessityof clothing his gods with his own imbecile qualities: as he is himself achangeable being, whose intelligence is limited; who, placed in diverscircumstances, appears to be frequently in contradiction with himself;although he thinks he honours his gods in giving them his own peculiarqualities, he in fact does nothing more than lend them his owninconstancy, cover them with his own weakness, invest them with his ownvices. It is thus that in reasoning, he is unable to account for thenecessity of things--that he imagines there is a confusion which hisprayers will have a tendency to remove--that he thinks the evils of lifemore than commensurate with the good: he does not perceive that anundeviating system, by operating upon beings diversely organized, whosecircumstances are different, whose modes of action are at variance, mustof necessity sometimes appear to be inimical to the interests of theindividual, while it embraces the general good of the whole. Thetheologian may subtilize, exaggerate, render as unintelligible as hepleases, the attributes with which he clothes his divinities, he willnever be able to remove the contradictions which arise from thediscordant qualities which he thus heaps together; neither will he beable to give man any other mode of judging than what arises from theexercise of his senses, such as they are actually found. He will neverbe able to furnish the idea of an immutable being, while he shallrepresent this being as capable of being irritated and appeased by theprayers of mortals. He will never delineate the features of omnipotenceunder the portrait of a being who cannot restrain the actions of hisinferiors. He will never hold up a standard of justice, while he shallmingle it with mercy, however amiable the quality; or while he shallrepresent it as punishing those actions, which the perpetrators wereunder the necessity of committing. Neither will he be able, under anycircumstances, to make a finite mind comprehend infinity; much less whenhe shall represent this infinity as bounded by finity itself. 

From this it will be obvious, that immaterial substances, such as aredepicted by the theologians, can only be looked upon as the offspring ofa metaphysical brain, unsupported by any of those proofs which areusually required to establish the propositions laid down among men; allthe qualities which they ascribe to them, are only those which aresuitable to material substances; all the abstract properties with whichthey invest them, are incomprehensible by material beings; the wholetaken together, is one confused mass of contradictions: they have heldforth to man, that it highly imported to his interests to know, tounderstand these substances; he has consequently set his intellect inaction to discover some means of compassing an end, said to be soconsequential to his welfare; he has, however, been unable to make anyprogress, because no clue could be offered to him of the road he mustpursue; all was mere assertion unsupported by evidence; the whole wasenveloped in complete darkness, into which the least scintillation oflight could never penetrate. Notwithstanding, as soon as man believeshimself greatly interested in knowing a thing, he labors to form tohimself an idea of that, the knowledge of which be thinks so important;if insuperable obstacles impede his inquiries--if difficulties of amagnitude to alarm his industry intervene--if with immense labour hemakes but little progress, then the slender success that attends hisresearch, aided by a slothful disposition, while it wearies hisdiligence disposes him to credulity. It was thus, that a craftyambitious Arab, subtle and knavish in his manners, insinuating in hisaddress, profiting by this credulous inclination, made his countrymenadopt his own fanciful reveries as permanent truths, of which it was notpermitted them for an instant to doubt; following up these opinions withenthusiasm, he stimulated them on to become conquerors; obliging theconquered to lend themselves to his system, he gave currency to a creed, invented solely for the purpose of enslaving mankind, which now spreadsover immense regions inhabited by a numerous population, although likeother systems it does not escape sectarianism, having above seventybranches. Thus ignorance, despair, sloth, the want of reflecting habits, place the human race in a state of dependance upon those who build upsystems, while upon the objects which are the foundations, they have noone settled idea: once adopted, however, whenever these systems arebrought into question, man either reasons in a very strange manner, orelse is the dupe of very deceitful arguments: when they are agitated, and he finds it impossible to understand what is said concerning themwhen his mind cannot embrace the ambiguity of these doctrines, heimagines those who speak to him are better acquainted with the objectsof their discourse than himself; these seizing the favourableopportunity, do not let it slip, they reiterate to him with Stentorianlungs, "That the most certain way is to agree with what they tell him;to allow himself to be guided by them;" in short, they persuade him toshut his eyes, that he may with greater perspicuity distinguish the roadhe is to travel: once arrived at this influence, they indelibly fixtheir lessons; irrevocably chain him to the oar; by holding up to hisview the punishments intended for him by these imaginary beings, in casehe refuses to accredit, in the most liberal manner, their marvellousinventions; this argument, although it only supposes the thing inquestion, serves to close his mouth--to put an end to his research;alarmed, confused, bewildered, he seems convinced by this victoriousreasoning--attaches to it a sacredness that fills him with awe--blindlyconceives that they have much clearer ideas of the subject than himself--fears to perceive the palpable contradictions of the doctrinesannounced to him, until, perhaps, some being, more subtle than those whohave enslaved him, by labouring the point incessantly, attacking him onthe weak side of his interest, arrives at throwing the absurdity of hissystem into light, and finally succeeds by inducing him to adopt that ofanother set of speculators. The uninformed man generally believes hispriests have more senses than himself; he takes them for superiorbeings; for divine men. He only sees that which these priests inform himhe must contemplate; to every thing else his eyes are completelyhoodwinked; thus the authority of the priests frequently decides, without appeal, that which is useful perhaps only to the priesthood. 

When we shall be disposed to recur to the origin of things, we shallever find that it has been man's imagination, guided by his ignorance, under the influence of fear, which gave birth to his gods; thatenthusiasm or imposture have generally either embellished or disfiguredthem; that credulity readily adopted the fabulous accounts whichinterested duplicity promulgated respecting them; that thesedispositions, sanctioned by time, became habitual. Tyrants finding theiradvantage in sustaining them, have usually established their power uponthe blindness of mankind, and the superstitious fears with which it isalways accompanied. Thus, under whatever point of view it is considered, it will always be found that _error cannot be useful to the humanspecies. _

Nevertheless, the happy enthusiast, when his soul is sensible of itsenjoyments, when his softened imagination has occasion to paint toitself a seducing object, to which he can render thanks for the kindnesshe experiences, will ask, "Wherefore deprive me of a being that I seeunder the character of a sovereign, filled with wisdom, abounding ingoodness? What comfort do I not find in figuring to myself a powerful, intelligent, indulgent monarch, of whom I am the favorite; whocontinually occupies himself with my welfare--unceasingly watches overmy safety--who perpetually administers to my wants--who always consentsthat under him I shall command the whole of nature? I believe I beholdhim constantly showering his benefits on man; I see his Providencelabouring for his advantage without relaxation; he covers the earth withverdure to delight him; he loads the trees with delicious fruits togratify his palate; he fills the forests with animals suitable to hisnourishment; he suspends over his head planets with innumerable stars, to enlighten him by day, to guide his erring steps by night; he extendsaround him the azure firmament to gladden his sight; he decorates themeadows with flowers to please his fancy; he causes crystal fountains toflow with limpid streams to slake his thirst; he makes rivulets meanderthrough his lands to fructify the earth; he washes his residence withnoble rivers, that yield him fish in abundance. Ah! suffer me to thankthee, Author of so many benefits: do not deprive me of my charmingsensations. I shall not find my illusions so sweet, so consolatory in asevere destiny--in a rigid necessity--in a blind inanimate matter--in anature destitute of intelligence, devoid of feeling. "

"Wherefore, " will say the unfortunate, from whom his destiny hasrigorously withheld those benefits which have been lavished on so manyothers; "wherefore ravish from me an error that is dear to me? Whereforeannihilate to me a being, whose consoling idea dries up the source of mytears--who serves to calm my sorrows? Wherefore deprive me of an objectwhich I represent to myself as a compassionate, tender father; whoreproves me in this world, but into whose arms I throw myself withconfidence, when the whole of nature appears to have abandoned me?Supposing it no more than a chimera, the unhappy have occasion for it, to guarantee them against frightful despair: is it not cruel, is it notinhuman, to be desirous of plunging them into a vacuum, by seeking toundeceive them? Is it not an useful error, preferable to those truthswhich deprive the mind of every consolation, which do not hold forth anyrelief from its sorrows?"

Thus will equally reason the Negro, the Mussulman, the Brachman, andothers. We shall reply to these enthusiasts, no! truth can never renderyou unhappy; it is this which really consoles us; it is a concealedtreasure, much superior to all the superstitions ever invented by fear;it can cheer the heart; give it courage to support the burthens of life;make us smile under adversity; elevate the soul; render it active;furnishes it with means to resist the attacks of fate; to combatmisfortunes with success. This will shew clearly that the good and evilof life are distributed with an equal hand, without respect to man'speculiar comforts; that all beings are equally regarded in the universe;that every thing is submitted to necessary laws; that man has no rightwhatever to think himself a being peculiarly favoured--who is exemptedfrom the common operations of the eternal routine; that it is folly tothink he is the only being considered--one for whose enjoyment aloneevery thing is produced; an attention to facts will suffice to put anend to this delusion, however pleasant may be the indulgence of such anotion; the most superficial glance of the eye will be sufficient toundeceive us in the idea, that he is the _final cause_ of the creation--the constant object of the labours of nature, or of its Author. Let usseriously ask him, if he does not witness good constantly blended withevil? If he does not equally partake of them with the other beings innature? To be obstinately bent to see only the evil, is as irrational asto be willing only to notice the good. Providence seems to be just asmuch occupied for one class of beings as for another. We see the calmsucceed the storm; sickness give place to health; the blessings of peacefollow the calamities of war; the earth in every country bring forthroots necessary for the nourishment of man, produce others suitable tohis destruction. Each individual of the human species is a compound ofgood and bad qualities; all nations present a varied spectacle ofvirtues, growing up beside vices; that which gladdens one being, plungesanother into sadness--no event takes place that does not give birth toadvantages for some, to disadvantages for others. Insects find a saferetreat in the ruin of the palace, which crushes man in its fall; man byhis death furnishes food for myriads of contemptible insects; animalsare destroyed by thousands that he may increase his bulk; linger out fora season a feverish existence. We see beings engaged in perpetualhostility, each living at his neighbour's expence; the one banquettingupon that which causes the desolation of the other; some luxuriouslygrowing into flesh upon the misery which wears others into skeletons--profiting by misfortunes, rioting upon disasters, which ultimately, reciprocally destroy them. The most deadly poisons spring up beside themost wholesome fruits the earth equally nourishes the fatal steel whichterminates man's career, and the fruitful corn that prolongs hisexistence; the bane and its antidote are near neighbours, repose on thesame bosom, ripen under the same sun, equally court the hand of theincautious stranger. The rivers which man believes flow for no otherpurpose than to irrigate his residence, sometimes swell their waters, overtop their banks, inundate his fields, overturn his dwelling, andsweep away the flock and shepherd. The ocean, which he vainly imagineswas only collected together to facilitate his commerce supply him withfish, and wash his shores; often wrecks his ships, frequently bursts itsboundaries, lays waste his lands, destroys the produce of his industry, and commits the most frightful ravages. The halcyon, delighted with thetempest, voluntarily mingles with the storm; rides contentedly upon thesurge; rejoiced by the fearful howlings of the northern blast, playswith happy buoyancy upon the foaming billows, that have ruthlesslydashed in pieces the vessel of the unfortunate mariner; who, plungedinto an abyss of misery, with tremulous emotion clings to the wreck;views with horrific despair, the premature destruction of his indulgedhopes; sighs deeply at the thoughts of home; with aching heart, thinksof the cherished friends his streaming eyes will never more behold in anagony of soul dwells upon the faithful affection of an adored wife, whowill never again repose her drooping head upon his manly bosom; growswild with the appalling remembrance of beloved children, his weariedarms will never more encircle with parental fondness; then sinks forever, the unhappy victim of circumstances that fill with glee thefluttering bird, who sees him yield to the overwhelming force of theinfuriate waves. The conqueror displays his military skill, fights asanguinary battle, puts his enemy to the rout, lays waste his country, slaughters thousands of his fellows, plunges whole districts into tears, fills the land with the moans of the fatherless, the wailings of thewidow, in order that the crows may have a banquet--that ferocious beastsmay gluttonously gorge themselves with human gore--that worms may riotin luxury. 

Thus when there is a question concerning an agent we see act sovariously; whose motives seem sometimes to be advantageous, sometimesdisadvantageous for the human race; at least each individual will judgeafter the peculiar mode in which he is himself affected; there willconsequently be no fixed point, no general standard in the opinions menwill form to themselves. Indeed our mode of judging will always begoverned by our manner of seeing, by our way of feeling. This willdepend upon our temperament, which itself springs out of ourorganization, and the peculiarity of the circumstances in which we areplaced; these can never be the same for all the beings of our species. These individual modes of being affected, then, will always furnish thecolours of the portrait which man may paint to himself of the Divinity;it must therefore be obvious they can never be determinate--can have nofixity--can never be reduced to any graduated scale; the inductionswhich they may draw from them, can never be either constant or uniform;each will always judge after himself, will never see any thing buthimself or his own peculiar situation in the picture he delineates. 

This granted, the man who has a contented, sensible soul, with a livelyimagination, will paint the Divinity under the most charming traits; hewill believe that he sees in the whole of nature nothing but proofs ofbenevolence, evidence of goodness, because it will unceasingly cause himagreeable sensations. In his poetical extacy he will imagine he everywhere perceives the impression of a perfect intelligence--of an infinitewisdom--of a providence tenderly occupied with the welfare of man; self-love joining itself to these exalted qualities, will put the finishinghand to his persuasion, that the universe is made solely for the humanrace; he will strive in imagination to kiss with transport the hand fromwhich he believes he receives so many benefits; touched with hiskindness, gratified with the perfume of roses whose thorns he does notperceive, or which his extatic delirium prevents him from feeling, hewill think he can never sufficiently acknowledge the necessary effects, which he will look upon as indubitable testimony of the divinepredilection for man. Completely inebriated with these feelings, thisenthusiast will not behold those sorrows, will not notice that confusionof which the universe is the theatre: or if it so happens, be cannotprevent himself from being a witness, he will be persuaded that in theviews of an indulgent providence, these calamities are necessary toconduct man to a higher state of felicity; the reliance which he has inthe Divinity, upon whom he imagines they depend, induces him to believe, that man only suffers for his good; that this being, who is fruitful inresources, will know how to make him reap advantage from the evils whichhe experiences in this world: his mind thus pre-occupied, from thencesees nothing that does not elicit his admiration call forth hisgratitude; excite his confidence; even those effects which are the mostnatural, the most necessary, appear in his eyes miracles of benevolence;prodigies of goodness: he shuts his eyes to the disorders which couldbring these amiable qualities into question: the most cruel calamities, the most afflicting events, the most heart-rending circumstances, ceaseto be disorders in his eyes, and do nothing, more than furnish him withnew proofs of the divine perfections; he persuades himself that whatappears defective or imperfect, is only so in appearance; he admires thewisdom, acknowledges the bounty of the Divinity, even in those effectswhich are the most terrible for his race--most suitable to discouragehis species--most fraught with misery for his fellow. 

It is, without doubt, to this happy disposition of the human mind, insome beings of his order, that is to be ascribed the system of_Optimism_, by which enthusiasts, furnished with a romantic imagination, seem to have renounced the evidence of their senses: to find that evenfor man every thing is good in nature, where the good has constantly itsconcomitant evil, and where minds less prejudiced, less poetical, wouldjudge that every thing is only that which it can be--that the good andthe evil are equally necessary--that they have their source in thenature of things; moreover, in order to attribute any particularcharacter to the events that take place, it would be needful to know theaim of the whole: now the whole cannot have an aim, because if it had atendency, an aim, or end, it would no longer be the whole, seeing thatthat to which it tended would be a part not included. 

It will be asserted by some, that the evils which we behold in thisworld are only relative, merely apparent; that they prove nothingagainst the good: but does not man almost uniformly judge after his ownmode of feeling; after his manner of co-existing with those causes bywhich he is encompassed; which constitute the order of nature withrelation to himself; consequently, he ascribes wisdom and goodness toall that which affects him pleasantly, disorder to that state of thingsby which he is injured. Nevertheless every thing which we witness in theworld conspires to prove to us, that whatever is, is necessary; thatnothing is done by chance; that all the events, good or bad, whether forus or for beings of a different order, are brought about by causesacting after certain and determinate laws; that nothing can he asufficient warrantry in us to clothe with any one of our humanqualities, either nature or the motive-power which has been given toher. 

With respect to those who pretend that supreme wisdom will know how todraw the greatest benefits for us, even out of the bosom of thosecalamities which it is permitted we shall experience in this world; weshall ask them, if they are themselves the confidents of the Divinity;or upon what they found these assertions so flattering to their hopes?They will, without doubt, tell us they judge by analogy; that from theactual proofs of goodness and wisdom, they have a just right to concludein favour of future bounty. Would it not be a fair reply to ask, If theyreason by analogy, and man has not been rendered completely happy inthis world, what analogy informs them he will be so in another? If, according to their own shewing, man is sometimes made the victim of evilin his present existence, in order that he may attain a greater good, does not analogical reasoning, which they say they adopt, clearlywarrant a deduction, that the same afflictions, for the same purposes, will be equally proper, equally requisite in the world to come?

Thus this language founds itself upon ruinous hypotheses, which have fortheir bases only a prejudiced imagination. It, in fact, signifiesnothing more than that man once persuaded, without any evidence, of hisfuture happiness, will not believe it possible he can be permitted to beunhappy: but might it not be inquired what testimony does he find, whatsubstantive knowledge has he obtained of the peculiar good that resultsto the human species from those sterilities, from those famines, fromthose contagions, from those sanguinary conflicts, which cause so manymillions of men to perish; which unceasingly depopulate the earth, anddesolate the world we inhabit? Is there any one who has sufficientcompass of comprehension to ascertain the advantages that result fromthe evils that besiege us on all sides? Do we not daily witness beingsconsecrated to misfortune, from the moment they quitted the womb of theparent who brought them into existence, until that which re-committedthem to the earth, to sleep in peace with their fathers; who with greatdifficulty found time to respire; lived the constant sport of fortune;overwhelmed with affliction, immersed in grief, enduring the most cruelreverses? Who is to measure the precise quantity of misery required toderive a certain portion of good? Who is to say when the measure of evilwill be full which it is necessary to suffer?

The most enthusiastic Optimists, the _Theists_ themselves, the partizansof _Natural Religion_, as well as the most credulous and superstitious, are obliged to recur to the system of another life, to remedy the evilsman is decreed to suffer in the present; but have they really any justfoundation to suppose the next world will afford him a happiness deniedhim in this? If it is necessary to recur to a doctrine so littleprobable as that of a future existence, by what chain of reasoning dothey establish their opinion, that when he shall no longer have organs, by the aid of which he is at present alone enabled either to enjoy or tosuffer, he shall be able to compensate the evils he has endured; toenjoy a felicity, to partake of a pleasure this organic structure hasrefused him while on his pilgrimage through the land of his fathers. 

From this it will be seen, that the proofs of a sovereign intelligence, or of a magnified human quality drawn from the order, from the harmony, from the beauty of the universe, are never more than those which arederived from men who are organized and modified after a certain mode; orwhose cheerful imagination is so constructed as to give birth toagreeable chimeras which they embellish according to their fancy: theseillusions, however, must be frequently dissipated even in themselves, whenever their machine becomes deranged; when sorrows assail them, whenmisfortune corrodes their mind; the spectacle of nature, which undercertain circumstances has appeared to them so delightful, so seducing, must then give place to disorder, must yield to confusion. A man ofmelancholy temperament, soured by misfortunes, made irritable byinfirmities, cannot view nature and her author under the sameperspective, as the healthy man of a sprightly humour, who is contentedwith every thing. Deprived of happiness, the fretful man can only finddisorder, can see nothing but deformity, can find nothing but subjectsto afflict himself with; he only contemplates the universe as thetheatre of malice, as the stage for tyrants to execute their vengeance;he grows superstitious, he gives way to credulity, and not unfrequentlybecomes cruel, in order to serve a master whom he believes he hasoffended. 

In consequence of these ideas, which have their growth in an unhappytemperament, which originate in a peevish humour, which are theoffspring of a disturbed imagination, the superstitious are constantlyinfected with terror, are the slaves to mistrust, the creatures ofdiscontent, continually in a state of fearful alarm. Nature cannot havecharms for them; her countless beauties pass by unheeded; they do notparticipate in her cheerful scenes; they look upon this world, somarvellous to the happy man, so good to the contented enthusiast, as a_valley of tears_, in which a vindictive fate has placed them only toexpiate crimes committed either by themselves or by their fathers; theyconsider themselves as sent here for no other purpose than to be thesharers of calamity; the sport of a capricious fortune; that they arethe children of sorrow, destined to undergo the severest trials, to theend that they may everlastingly arrive at a new existence, in which theyshall be either happy or miserable, according to their conduct towardsthe ministers of a being who holds their destiny in his hands. Thesedismal notions have been the source of all the irrational systems thathave ever prevailed; they have given birth to the most revoltingpractices, currency to the most absurd customs. History abounds withdetails of the most atrocious cruelties, under the imposing name ofpublic worship; nothing has been considered either too fantastical ortoo flagitious by the votaries of superstition. Parents have immolatedtheir children; lovers have sacrificed the objects of their affection;friends have destroyed each other: the most bloody disputes have beenfomented; the most interminable animosities have been engendered, togratify the whim of implacable priests, who by crafty inventions haveobtained an influence over the people; to please blind zealots, who havenever been able either to give fixity to their ideas, or to define theirown feelings. Idle dreamers nourished with bile, intoxicated withtheologic fury--atrabilarians, whose melancholic humour frequentlydisposes them to wickedness--visionaries, whose devious imaginations, heated with intemperate zeal, generally leads them to the extremes offanaticism, working upon ignorance, whose usual bias is credulity, haveincessantly disturbed the harmony of mankind, kindled theinextinguishable flame of discord, and in an almost uninterruptedsuccession, strewed the earth with the mangled carcasses of themultitudinous victims to mad-brained error, whose only crime has beentheir incapacity to dream according to the rules prescribed by theseinfuriate maniacs; although these have never been uniform--neverassimilated in any two countries--never borne the same features in anytwo ages, nor even had the united concurrence of the persecutingcontemporaries. 

It is then in the diversity of temperament, arising from variety oforganization--in the contrariety of passions, springing out of thismiscellany, modified by the most opposite circumstances, that must besought the difference we find in the opinions of the theist, theoptimist, the happy enthusiast, the zealot, the devotee, thesuperstitious of all denominations; they are all equally irrational--thedupes of their imagination--the blind children of error. What onecontemplates under a favorable point of view, the other never looks uponbut on the dark side; that which is the object of the most sedulousresearch to one set, is that which the others most seek to avoid: eachinsists he is right; no one offers the least shadow of substantive proofof what he asserts; each points out the great importance of his mission, yet cannot even agree with his colleagues in the embassy, either uponthe nature of their instructions, or the means to be adopted. It is thuswhenever man sets forth a false supposition, all the reasonings he makeson it are only a long tissue of errors, which entail on him an endlessseries of misfortunes; every time he renounces the evidence of hissenses, it is impossible to calculate the bounds at which hisimagination will stop; when he once quits the road of experience, whenhe travels out of nature, when he loses sight of his reason, to strikeinto the labyrinths of conjecture, it is difficult to ascertain wherehis folly will lead him--into what mischievous swamps this _ignisfatuus_ of the mind may beguile his wandering steps. It is certainlytrue, the ideas of the happy enthusiast will be less dangerous tohimself, less baneful to others, than those of the atrabilariousfanatic, whose temperament may render him both cowardly and cruel;nevertheless the opinions of the one and of the other will not be lesschimerical; the only difference will be, that of the first will produceagreeable, cheerful dreams; while that of the second will present themost appalling visions, terrific spectres, the fruit of a peevishtransport of the brain: there will, however, never be more than a stepbetween them all; the smallest revolution in the machine, a slightinfirmity, an unforeseen affliction, suffices to change the course ofthe humours--to vitiate the temperament--to endanger the organization--to overturn the whole system of opinions of the happiest. As soon as theportrait is found disfigured, the beautiful order of things isoverthrown relatively to himself; melancholy grapples him--pusillanimitybenumbs his faculties--by degrees plunges, him into the rankest depthsof gloomy superstition; he then degenerates into all thoseirregularities which are the dismal harvest of fanatic ignoranceploughed with credulity. 

Those ideas, which have no archetype but in the imagination of man, mustnecessarily take their complexion from his own character; must beclothed with his own passions; must constantly follow the revolutions ofhis machine; be lively or gloomy; favourable or prejudicial; friendly orinimical; sociable or savage; humane or cruel; according as he whosebrain they inhabit shall himself be disposed; in fact, they can never bemore than the shadow of the substance he himself interposes between thelight and the ground on which they are thrown. A mortal plunged from astate of happiness into misery, whose health merges into sickness, whosejoy is changed into affliction, cannot in these vicissitudes preservethe same ideas; these naturally depend every instant upon thevariations, which physical sensations oblige his organs to undergo. Itwill not therefore appear strange that these opinions should befluctuating, when they depend upon the state of the nervous fluid, uponthe greater or less portion of igneous matter floating in the sanguinaryvessels. 

_Theism_, or what is called _Natural Religion_, cannot have certainprinciples; those who profess it must necessarily be subject to vary intheir opinions--to fluctuate in their conduct, which flows out of them. A system founded upon wisdom and intelligence, which can nevercontradict itself, when circumstances change will presently be convertedinto fanaticism; rapidly degenerate into superstition; such a system, successively meditated by enthusiasts of very distinct characters, mustof necessity experience vicissitudes, and quickly depart from itsprimitive simplicity. The greater part of those philosophers who havebeen disposed to substitute theism for superstition, have not felt thatit was formed to corrupt itself--to degenerate. Striking examples, however, prove this fatal truth. Theism is almost every where corrupted;it has by degrees given way to those superstitions, to those extravagantsects, to those prejudicial opinions with which the human species isdegraded. As soon as man consents to acknowledge invisible powers out ofnature, upon which his restless mind will never be able invariably tofix his ideas--which his imagination alone will be capable of paintingto him; whenever he shall not dare to consult his reason relatively tothose powers, it must necessarily be, that the first false step leadshim astray, that his conduct as well as his opinions becomes in the longrun perfectly absurd. 

Those are usually called Theists, who, undeceived upon the greaternumber of grosser errors to which the uninformed, the superstitiouslyignorant, tend the most determined support, simply hold the notion ofunknown agents endowed with intelligence, wisdom, power and goodness, inshort, full of infinite perfections, whom they distinguish from nature, but whom they clothe after their own fashion; to whom they ascribe theirown limited views; whom they make act according to their own absurdpassions. The religion of Abraham appears to have originally been a kindof theism, imagined to reform the superstition of the Chaldeans; Mosesmodified it, and gave it the Judaical form. Socrates was a theist, wholost his life in his attack on polytheism; his disciple Aristocles, orPlato, as he was afterwards called from his large shoulders, embellishedthe theism of his master, with the mystical colours which he borrowedfrom the Egyptian and Chaldean priests, which he modified in his ownpoetical brain, and preserved a remnant of polytheism. The disciples ofPlato, such as Proclus, Ammonius, Jamblicus. Plotinus, Longinus, Porphyrus, and others, dressed it up still more fantastically, added agreat deal of superstitious mummery, blended it with magic, and otherunintelligible doctrines. The first doctors of Christianity werePlatonists, who combined the reformed Judaism with the philosophy taughtin Academia. Mahomet, in combating the polytheism of his country, seemsto have been desirous of restoring the primitive theism of Abraham, andhis son Ishmael; yet this has now seventy-two sects. Thus it will beobvious, that theism has no fixed point, no standard, no common measuremore than other systems: that it runs from one supposition to another, to find in what manner evil has crept into the world. Indeed it has beenfor this purpose, which perhaps after all will never be satisfactorilyexplained, that the doctrine of free-agency was introduced; that thefable of Prometheus and the box of Pandora was imagined; that thehistory of the Titanes was invented; notwithstanding, it must be evidentthat these things as well as all the other trappings of superstition, are not more difficult of comprehension than the immaterial substancesof the theists; the mind who can admit that beings devoid of parts, destitute of organs, without bulk, can move matter, think like man, havethe moral qualities of human nature, need not hesitate to allow thatceremonies, certain motions of the body, words, rites, temples, statues, can equally contain secret virtues; has no occasion to withhold itsfaith from the concealed powers of magic, theurgy, enchantments, charms, talismans, &c. ; can shew no good reason why it should not accreditinspirations, dreams, visions, omens, soothsayers, metamorphoses, andall the host of occult sciences: when things so contradictory to thedictates of reason, so completely opposed to good sense are freelyadmitted, there can no longer be an thing which ought to possess theright to make credulity revolt; those who give sanction to the one, maywithout much hesitation believe whatever else is offered to theircredence. It would be impossible to mark the precise point at whichimagination ought to arrest itself--the exact boundary that shouldcircumscribe belief--the true dose of folly that may be permitted them;or the degree of indulgence that can with safety be extended to thosepriests who are in the habit of teaching so variously, socontradictorily, what man ought to think on the subjects they handle soadvantageously to themselves; who when it becomes a question whatremuneration is due from mankind for their unwearied exertions in hisfavour, are, in spite of all their other differences, in the mostperfect union; except perhaps when they come to the division of thespoil: in this, indeed, the apple of discord sometimes takes atremendous roll. Thus it will be clear that there can be no substantivegrounds for separating the theists from the most superstitious; that itbecomes impossible to fix the line of demarcation, which divides themfrom the most credulous of men; to shew the land-marks by which they canbe discriminated from those who reason with the least conclusivepersuasion. If the theist refuses to follow up the fanatic in every stepof his cullibility, he is at least more inconsequent than the last, whohaving admitted upon hearsay an inconsistent, whimsical doctrine, alsoadopts upon report the ridiculous, strange means which it furnishes him. The first sets forth with an absurd supposition, of which he rejects thenecessary consequences; the other admits both the principle and theconclusion. There are no degrees in fiction any more than in truth. Ifwe admit the superstition, we are bound to receive every thing which itsministers promulgate, as emanating from its principle. None of thereveries of superstition embrace any thing more incredible thanimmateriality; these reveries are only corollaries drawn with more orless subtilty from unintelligible subjects, by those who have aninterest in supporting the system. The inductions which dreamers havemade, by dint of meditating on impenetrable materials, are nothing morethan ingenious conclusions, which have been drawn with wonderfulaccuracy, from unknown premises, that are modestly offered to thesanction of mankind by enthusiasts, who claim an unconditional assent, because they assure us no one of the human race is in a capacity eitherto see, feel, or comprehend the object of their contemplation. Does notthis somewhat remind us of what Rabelais describes as the employment ofQueen Whim's officers, in his fifth book and twenty-second chapter?

Let us then acknowledge, that the man who is this most credulouslysuperstitious, reasons in a more conclusive manner, or is at least moreconsistent in his credulity, than those, who, after having admitted acertain position of which they have no one idea, stop short all at once, and refuse to accredit that system of conduct which is the immediate, the necessary result of a radical and primitive error. As soon as theysubscribe to a principle fatally opposed to reason, by what right dothey dispute its consequences, however absurd they may be found? Wecannot too often repeat, for the happiness of mankind, that the humanmind, let it torture itself as much as it will, when it quits visiblenature leads itself astray; for want of an intelligent guide it wandersin tracks that bewilder its powers, and is quickly obliged, to returninto that with which it has at least some, acquaintance. If man mistakesnature and her energies, it is because he does not sufficiently studyher--because he does not submit to the test of experience the phenomenahe beholds; if he will obstinately deprive her of motion, he can nolonger have any ideas of her. Does, he, however, elucidate hisembarrassments, by submitting her action to the agency of a being ofwhich he makes himself the model? Does he think he forms a god, when heassembles into one heterogeneous mass, his own discrepant qualities, magnified until his optics are no longer competent to recognize them, and then unites to them certain abstract properties of which he cannotform to himself any one conception? Does he, in fact, do more thancollect together that which becomes, in consequence of its association, perfectly unintelligible? Yet, strange as it may appear, when he nolonger understands himself--when his mind, lost in its own fictions, becomes inadequate to decipher the characters he has thus promiscuouslyassembled--when he has huddled together a heap of incomprehensible, abstract qualities, which he is obliged to acknowledge are the merecreatures of imagination, not within the reach of human intellect, hefirmly persuades himself he has made a most accurate and beautifulportrait of the Divinity; he ostentatiously displays his picture, demands the eulogy of the spectator, and quarrels with all those who donot agree to adulate his creative powers, by adopting the inconceivablebeing he holds forth to their worship; in short, to question theexistence of his extravaganza, rouses his most bitter reproaches;elicits his everlasting scorn; entails on the incredulous his eternalhatred. 

On the other hand, what could we expect from such a being, as they havesupposed him to be? What could we consistently ask of him? How make animmaterial being, who has neither organs, space, point, or contact, understand that modification of matter called voice? Admit that this isthe being who moves nature--who establishes her laws--who gives tobeings their various essences--who endows them with their respectiveproperties; if every thing that takes place is the fruit of his infiniteprovidence--the proof of his profound wisdom, to what end shall weaddress our prayers to him? Shall we solicit him to acknowledge that thewisdom and providence with which we have clothed him, are in facterroneous, by entreating him to alter in our favour his eternal laws?Shall we give him to understand our wisdom exceeds his own, by asking, him for our pleasure to change the properties of bodies--to annihilatehis immutable decrees--to trace back the invariable course of things--tomake beings act in opposition to the essences with which he has thoughtit right to invest them? Will he at our intercession prevent a bodyponderous and hard by its nature, such as a stone, for example, fromwounding, in its fall a sensitive being such as the human frame? Again, should we not, in fact, challenge impossibilities, if the discordantattributes brought into union by the theologians were correct; would notimmutability oppose itself to omnipotence; mercy to the exercise ofrigid justice; omniscience, to the changes that might be required inforeseen plans? In physics, in consequence of the general research aftera perpetual motion, science has drawn forth the discovery, that byamalgamating metals of contrary properties, the contractile powers ofone kind, under given circumstances which cause the dilation of theother, by their opposite tendencies neutralize the actual effects ofeach, taken separately, and thus produce an equality in theoscillations, that, neither possessed individually. 

It will perhaps, be insisted, that the infinite science of the Creatorof all things, is acquainted with resources in the beings he has formed, which are concealed from imbecile mortals; that consequently withoutchanging any thing, either in the laws of nature, or in the essence ofthings, he is competent to produce effects which surpass thecomprehension of our feeble understanding; that these, effects will inno wise be contrary to that order which he himself has established innature. Granted: but then I reply, _first_, that every thing which isconformable to the nature of things, can neither be called supernaturalnor miraculous: many things are, unquestionably, above ourcomprehension; but then all that is operated in the world is natural--grows out of those immutable laws by which nature is regulated. In the_second_ place, it will be requisite to observe, that by the wordmiracle an effect is designed, of which, for want of understandingnature, she is believed incapable. In the _third_ place, it is worthy ofremark, that the theologians, almost universally, insist that by miracleis meant not an extraordinary effort of nature, but an effect directlyopposite to her laws, which nevertheless they equally challenge to havebeen prescribed by the Divinity. Buddaeus says, "a miracle is anoperation by which the laws of nature, upon which depend the order andthe preservation of the universe, are suspended. " If, however, theDeity, in those phenomena that most excite our surprise, does nothingmore than give play to springs unknown to mortals, there is, then, nothing in nature, which, in this sense, may not be looked upon as amiracle; because the cause by which a stone falls is as unknown to us, as that which makes our globe turn on its own axis. Thus, to explain thephenomena of nature by a miracle, is, in other words, to say we areignorant of the actuating causes; to attribute them to the Divinity, isto agree we do not comprehend the resources of nature: it is littlebetter than accrediting magic. To attribute to a sovereignlyintelligent, immutable, provident, wise being, those miracles by whichhe derogates from his own laws, is at one blow to annihilate all thesequalities: it is an inconsistency that would shame a child. It cannot besupposed that omnipotence has need of miracles to govern the universe, nor to convince his creatures, whose minds and hearts must be in his ownhands. The last refuge of the theologian, when driven off all otherground, is the possibility of every thing he asserts, couched in thedogma, "that nothing is impossible to the Divinity. " He makes thisasseveration with a degree of self-complacency, with an air of triumph, that would almost persuade one he could not be mistaken; most assuredly, with those who dip no further than the surface, he carries completeconviction. But we must take leave to examine a little the nature ofthis proposition, and we do apprehend that a very slight degree ofconsideration will shew that it is untenable. In the _first_ place, aswe have before observed, the possibility of a thing by no means provesits absolute existence: a thing may be extremely possible, and yet notbe. _Secondly_, if this was once to become an admitted argument, therewould be, in fact, an end of all morality and religion. The Bishop ofChester, Doctor John Wilkins, says, "would not such men be generallyaccounted out of their wits, who could please themselves by entertainingactual hopes of any thing, merely upon account of the possibility of it, or torment themselves with actual fears of all such evils as arepossible? Is there any thing imaginable wore wild and extravagantamongst those in bedlam than this would be?" _Thirdly_, theimpossibility would reasonably appear to be on the other side, so farfrom nothing being impossible, every thing that is erroneous would seemto be actually so; the Divinity could not possibly either love vice, cherish crime, be pleased with depravity, or commit wrong; thisdecidedly turns the argument against them; they must either admit themost monstrous of all suppositions, or retire from behind the shieldwith which they have imagined they rendered themselves invulnerable. 

To those who may be inclined to inquire, whether it would not be betterthat all things were operated by a good, wise, intelligent Being, thanby a blind nature, in which not one consoling quality is found; by afatal necessity always inexorable to human intreaty? It may be replied, _first_, that our interest does not decide the reality of things, andthat when this should be even wore advantageous than it is pointed out, it would prove nothing. _Secondly_, that as we are obliged to admit somethings are operated by nature, it is certainly on the side ofprobability that she performs the others; especially as her capabilitiesare more substantively proved by every age as it advances. _Thirdly_, that nature duly studied furnishes every thing necessary to render usas, happy as our essence admits. When, guided by experience, we shallconsult her, with cultivated reason; she will discover to us our duties, that is to say, the indispensable means to which her eternal andnecessary laws have attached our preservation, our own happiness, andthat of society. It is decidedly in her bosom that we shall findwherewith to satisfy our physical wants; whatever is out of nature, canhave no existence relatively to ourselves. 

Nature, then, is not a step-mother to us; we do not depend upon aninexorable destiny. Let us therefore endeavour to become more familiarwith her resources; she will procure us a multitude of benefits when weshall pay her the attention she deserves: when we shall feel disposed toconsult her, she will supply us with the requisites to alleviate bothour physical and moral evils: she only punishes us with rigour, when, regardless of her admonitions, we plunge into excesses that disgrace us. Has the voluptuary any reason to complain of the sharp pains inflictedby the gout, when experience, if he had but attended to its counsels, has so often warned him, that the grossness of sensual indulgence mustinevitably amass in his machine those humours which give birth to theagony he so acutely feels? Has the superstitious bigot any cause forrepining at the misery of his uncertain ideas, when an attentiveexamination of that nature, he holds of such small account, would haveconvinced him that the idols under whom he trembles, are nothing butpersonifications of herself, disguised under some other name? It isevidently by incertitude, discord, blindness, delirium, she chastisesthose who refuse to, acknowledge the justice of her claims. 

In the mean time, it cannot be denied, that a pure Theism, or what iscalled Natural Religion, may not be preferable to superstition, in thesame manner as reform has banished many of the abuses of those countrieswho have embraced it; but there is nothing short of an unlimited andinviolable liberty of thought, that can permanently assure the repose ofthe mind. The opinions of men are only dangerous when they arerestrained, or when it is imagined necessary to make others think as weourselves think. No opinions, not even those of superstition itself, would be dangerous, if the superstitious did not think themselvesobliged to enforce their adoption, or had not the power to persecutethose who refused. It is this prejudice, which, for the benefit ofmankind, it is essential to annihilate; and if the thing be notachievable, then the next object which philosophy may reasonably proposeto itself, will be to make the depositaries of power feel that theynever ought to permit their subjects to commit evil for eithersuperstitious or religious opinions. In this case, wars would be almostunheard of amongst men: instead of beholding the melancholy spectacle ofman cutting the throat of his fellow man, because this cannot see withhis eyes, we shall witness him essentially labouring to his ownhappiness by promoting that of his neighbour; cultivating the earth inpeace; quietly bringing forth the productions of nature, instead ofpuzzling his brain with theological disputes, which can never be of thesmallest advantage, except to the priests. It must be a self-evidenttruth, that an argument by men, upon that which is not accessible toman, _could only have been invented by knaves, who, like the professorsof legerdemain, were determined to riot luxuriously on the ignorance andcredulity of mankind. _

CHAP. VIII. 

_Examination of the Advantages which result from Man's Notions on theDivinity. --Of their Influence upon Mortals;--upon Politics;--uponScience;--upon the Happiness of Nations, and that of Individuals. _

The slender foundation of those ideas which men form to themselves oftheir gods, must have appeared obvious in what has preceded; the proofswhich have been offered in support of the existence of immaterialsubstances, have been examined; the want of harmony that exists in theopinions upon this subject, which all concur in agreeing to be equallyimpossible to be known to the inhabitants of the earth, has been shewn;the incompatibility of the attributes with which, theology has clothedincorporeity, has been explained. It has been proved, that the idolswhich man sets up for adoration, have usually had their birth, either inthe bosom of misfortune, when ignorance was at a loss to account for thecalamities of the earth upon natural principles, or else have been theshapeless fruit of melancholy, working upon an alarmed mind, coupledwith enthusiasm and an unbridled imagination. It has been pointed outhow these prejudices, transmitted by tradition from father to son, grafting themselves upon infant minds, cultivated by education, nourished by fear, corroborated by habit, have been maintained byauthority; perpetuated by example. In short, every thing must havedistinctly evidenced to us, that the ideas of the gods, so generallydiffused over the earth, has been little more than an universal delusionof the human race. It remains now to examine if this error has beenuseful. 

It needs little to prove error can never be advantageous for mankind; itis ever founded upon his ignorance, which is itself an acknowledgedevil; it springs out of the blindness of his mind to acknowledgedtruths, and his want of experience, which it must be admitted areprejudicial to his interests: the more importance, therefore, he shallattach to these errors, the more fatal will be the consequencesresulting from their adoption. Bacon, the illustrious sophist, who firstbrought philosophy out of the schools, had great reason when he said, "The worst of all things is deified error. " Indeed, the mischiefsspringing from superstition or religious errors, have been, and alwayswill be, the most terrible in their consequences--the most extensive intheir devastation. The more these errors are respected, the more playthey give to the passions; the more value is attached to them, the morethe mind is disturbed; the more they are insisted upon, the moreirrational they render those, who are seized with the rage forproselytism; the more they are cherished, the greater influence theyhave on the whole conduct of our lives. Indeed, there can he but littlelikelihood that he who renounces his reason, in the thing which heconsiders as most essential to his happiness, will listen to it on anyother occasion. 

The slightest reflection will afford ample proof to this sad truth: inthose fatal notions which man has cherished on this subject, are to betraced the true sources of all those prejudices, the fountain of allthose sorrows, to which he is the victim. Nevertheless, as we haveelsewhere said, utility ought to be the only standard, the uniformscale, by which to form a judgment on either the opinions, theinstitutions, the systems, or the actions of intelligent beings; it isaccording to the measure of happiness which these things procure for us, that we ought either to cover them with our esteem, or expose them toour contempt. Whenever they are useless it is our duty to despise them;as soon as they become pernicious, it is imperative to reject them;reason imperiously prescribes that our detestation should becommensurate with the evils which they cause. 

Taking these principles for a land-mark, which are founded on ournature, which must appear incontestible to every reasonable being, withexperience for a beacon, let us coolly examine the effects which thesenotions have produced on the earth. We have already, in more than onepart of the work, given a glimpse of the doctrine of that morals, whichhaving only for object the preservation of man, and his conduct insociety, can have nothing, in common with imaginary systems: it has beenshewn, that the essence of a sensitive, intelligent, rational being, properly meditated, would discover motives competent to moderate thefury of his passions--to induce him to resist his vicious propensities--to make him fly criminal habits--to invite him to render himself usefulto those beings for whom his own necessities have a continual occasion;thus, to endear himself to his, fellow mortals, to become respectable inhis own esteem. These motives will unquestionably be admitted to possessmore solidity, to embrace greater, potency, to involve more truth, thanthose which are borrowed from systems that want stability; that assumemore shapes than there are languages; that are not tangible to the tactof humanity; that must of necessity present a different perspective toall who shall view them through the medium of prejudice. From what hasbeen advanced, it will be felt that education, which should make man inearly life contract good habits, adopt favorable dispositions, fortifiedby a respect for public opinion, invigorated by ideas of decency, strengthened by wholesome laws, corroborated by the desire of meritingthe friendship of others, stimulated by the fear of losing his ownesteem, would be fully adequate to accustom him to a laudable conduct, amply sufficient to divert him from even those secret crimes, from whichhe is obliged to punish himself by remorse; which costs him the mostincessant labour to keep concealed, by the dread of that shame, whichmust always follow their publicity. Experience demonstrates in theclearest manner, that the success of a first crime disposes him tocommit a second; impunity leads on to the third, this to a lamentablesequel that frequently closes a wretched career with the mostignominious exhibition; thus the first delinquency is the commencementof a habit: there is much less distance from this to the hundredth, thanfrom innocence to criminality: the man, however, who lends himself to aseries of bad actions, under even the assurance of impunity, is mostwoefully deceived, because he cannot avoid castigating himself:moreover, he cannot know at what point of iniquity he shall stop. It hasbeen shewn, that those punishments which society, for its ownpreservation, has the right to inflict on those who disturb its harmony, are more substantive, more efficacious, more salutary in their effects, than all the distant torments held forth by the priests; they intervenea more immediate obstacle to the stubborn propensities of those obduratewretches, who, insensible to the charms of virtue, are deaf to theadvantages that spring from its practice, than can he opposed by thedenunciations, held forth in an hereafter existence, which he is at thesame moment taught may be avoided by repentance, that shall only takeplace when the ability to commit further wrong has ceased. In short, onewould be led to think it obvious to the slightest reflection, thatpolitics, founded upon the nature of man, upon the principles ofsociety, armed with equitable laws, vigilant over morals, faithful inrewarding virtue, constant in visiting crime, would be more suitable toclothe ethics with respectability, to throw a sacred mantle over moralgoodness, to lend stability to public virtue, than any authority thatcan be derived from contested systems, the conduct of whose professorsfrequently disgrace the doctrines they lay down, which after all seldomdo more than restrain those whose mildness of temperament effectuallyprevents them from running into excess; those who, already given tojustice, require no coercion. On the other hand, we have endeavoured toprove that nothing can be more absurd, nothing actually more dangerous, than attributing human qualities to the Divinity which cannot but chooseto find themselves in a perpetual contradiction. 

Plato has said "that virtue consists in resembling God. " But how is manto resemble a being, who, it is acknowledged, is incomprehensible tomankind--who cannot be conceived by any of those means, by which he isalone capable of having perceptions? If this being, who is shewn to manunder such various aspects, who is said to owe nothing to his creatures, is the author of all the good, as well as all the evil that takes place, how can he be the model for the conduct of the human race livingtogether in society? At most he can only follow one side of thecharacter, because among his fellows, he alone is reputed virtuous whodoes not deviate in his conduct from justice; who abstains from evil;who performs with punctuality those duties he owes to his fellows. If itbe taken up, and insisted he is not the author of the evil, only of thegood, I say very well: that is precisely what I wanted to know; youthereby acknowledge he is not the author of every thing; we are nolonger at issue; you are inconclusive to your own premises, consequentlyought not to demand an implicit reliance on what you choose to assert. 

But, replies the subtle theologian, that is not the affair; you mustseek it in the creed I have set forth--in the religion of which I am apillar. Very good: Is it then actually in the system of fanatics, thatman should draw up his ideas of virtue? Is it in the doctrines whichthese codes hold forth, that he is to seek for a model? Alas! do theynot pourtray their idols: under the most unwholesome colours; do theynot represent them as following their caprice in every thing, who loveor hate, who choose or reject, who approve or condemn according to theirwhim, who delight in carnage, who send discord amongst men, who actirrationally, who commit wantonness, who sport with their feeblesubjects, who lay continual snares for them, who rigorously interdictthe use of their reason? What, let us seriously ask, would become ofmorality, if men proposed to themselves such portraits for models!

It was, however, for the most part, systems of this temper that nationsadopted. At was in consequence of these principles that what has beencalled religion in most countries, was far removed from being favourableto morality; on the contrary, it often shook it to its foundation--frequently left no vestige of its existence. It divided man, instead ofdrawing closer the bonds of union; in the place of that mutual love, that reciprocity of succour, which ought ever to distinguish humansociety, it introduced hatred and persecution; it made them seize everyopportunity to cut each other's throat for speculative opinions, equallyirrational; it engendered the most violent heart-burnings--the mostrancorous animosities--the most sovereign contempt. The slightestdifference in their received opinions rendered them the most mortalenemies; separated their interests for ever; made them despise eachother; and seek every means to render their existence miserable. Forthese theological conjectures, nations become opposed to nations; thesovereign frequently armed himself against his subjects; subjects wagedwar with their sovereign; citizens gave activity to the most sanguinaryhostility against each other; parents detested their offspring; childrenplunged the pointed steel, the barbed arrow, into the bosoms of thosewho gave them existence; husbands and wives disunited, became thescourges of each other; relations forgetting the ties of consanguinity, tore each other to pieces, or else reciprocally consigned them tooblivion; all the bonds of society were rent asunder; the social compactwas broken up; society committed suicide: whilst in the midst of thisfearful wreck--regardless of the horrid shrieks called forth by thisdreadful confusion--unmindful of the havock going forward on all sides--each pretended that he conformed to the views of his idol, detailed tohim by his priest--fulminated by the oracles. Far from making himselfany reproach, for the misery he spread abroad, each lauded his ownindividual conduct; gloried in the crimes he committed in support of hissacred cause. 

The same spirit of maniacal fury pervaded the rites, the ceremonies, thecustoms, which the worship, adopted by superstition, placed so muchabove all the social virtues. In one country, tender mothers deliveredup their children to moisten with their innocent blood the altars oftheir idols; in another, the people assembled, performed the ceremony ofconsolation to their deities, for the outrages they committed againstthem, and finished by immolating to their anger human victims; inanother, a frantic enthusiast lacerated his body, condemned himself forlife to the most rigorous tortures, to appease the wrath of his gods. The Jupiter of the Pagans was a lascivious monster; the Moloch of thePhenicians was a cannibal; the savage idol of the Mexican requiresthousands of mortals to bleed on his shrine, in order to satisfy hissanguinary appetite. 

Such are the models superstition holds out to the imitation of man; isit then surprising that the name of these despots became the signal formad-brained enthusiasm to exercise its outrageous fury; the standardunder which cowardice wreaked its cruelty; the watchword for theinhumanity of nations to muster their barbarous strength; a sound whichspreads terror wherever its echo could reach; a continual pretext forthe most barefaced breaches of public decorum; for the most shamelessviolation of the moral duties? It was the frightful character men gaveof their gods, that banished kindness from their hearts--virtue fromtheir conduct--felicity from their habitations--reason from their mind:almost every where it was some idol, who was disturbed by the mode inwhich unhappy mortals thought; this armed them with poignards againsteach other; made them stifle the cries of nature; rendered thembarbarous to themselves; atrocious to their fellow creatures: in short, they became irrational, breathed forth vengeance, outraged humanity, every time that, instigated by the priest, they were inclined to imitatethe gods of their idolatry, to display their zeal, to render themselvesacceptable in their temples. 

It is not, then, in such systems, man ought to seek either for models ofvirtue, or rules of conduct suitable to live in society. He needs humanmorality, founded upon his own nature; built upon invariable experience;submitted to reason. The ethics of superstition will always heprejudicial to the earth; cruel masters cannot be well served, but bythose who resemble them: what then becomes of the great advantages whichhave been imagined resulted to man, from the notions which have beenunceasingly infused into him of his gods? We see that almost <aname=054></a> all nations acknowledge them; yet, to conform themselvesto their views, they trampled under foot the clearest rights of nature--the most evident duties of humanity; they appeared to act as if it wasonly by madness the most incurable--by folly the most preposterous--bythe most flagitious crimes, committed with an unsparing hand, that theyhoped to draw down upon themselves the favor of heaven--the blessings ofthe sovereign intelligence they so much boast of serving with unabatedzeal; with the most devotional fervor; with the most unlimitedobedience. As soon, therefore, as the priests give them to understandtheir deities command the commission of crime, or whenever there is aquestion of their respective creeds, although they are wrapt in the mostimpenetrable obscurity, they make it a duty with themselves to unbridletheir rancour--to give loose to the most furious passions; they mistakethe clearest precepts of morality; they credulously believe theremission of their own sins will be the reward of their transgressionsagainst their neighbour. Would it not be better to be an inhabitant ofSoldania in Africa, where never yet form of worship entered, or the nameof God resounded, than thus to pollute the land with superstitiouscastigation--with the enmity of priests against each other?

Indeed, it is not generally in those revered mortals, spread over theearth to announce the oracles of the gods, that will be found the moststerling virtues. These men, who think themselves so enlightened, whocall themselves the ministers of heaven, frequently preach nothing buthatred, discord, and fury in its name: the fear of the gods, far fromhaving a salutary influence over their own morals, far from submittingthem to a wholesome discipline, frequently do nothing more than increasetheir avarice, augment their ambition, inflate their pride, extend theircovetousness, render them obstinately stubborn, and harden their hearts. We may see them unceasingly occupied in giving birth to the most lastinganimosities, by their unintelligible disputes. We see them hostilelywrestling with the sovereign power, which they contend is subordinate totheir own. We see them arm the chiefs of nations against the legitimatemagistrates; distribute to the credulous multitude the most mortalweapons, to massacre each other in the prosecution of those futilecontroversies, which sacerdotal vanity clothes with the most interestingimportance. Do these men, who advance the beauty of their theories, whomenace the people with eternal vengeance, avail themselves of their ownmarvellous notions to moderate their pride--to abate their vanity--tolessen their cupidity--to restrain their turbulence--to bring theirvindictive humours under control? Are they, even in those countrieswhere their empire is established upon pillars of brass, fixed onadamantine rocks, decorated with the most curious efforts of humaningenuity--where the sacred mantle of public opinion shields them withimpunity--where credulity, planted in the hot-bed of ignorance, strikesthe roots of their authority into the very centre of the earth; arethey, I would ask, the enemies to debauchery, the foes to intemperance, the haters of those excesses which they insist a severe God interdictsto his adorers? On the contrary, are they not seen to be emboldened incrime; intrepid in iniquity; committing the most shameful atrocities;giving free scope to their irregularities; indulging their hatred;glutting their vengeance; exercising the most savage cruelties on themiserable victims to their cowardly suspicion? In short, it may besafely advanced, without fear of contradiction, that scarcely any thingis more frequent, than that those men who announce these terriblecreeds--who make men tremble under their yoke--who are unceasinglyharanguing upon the eternity and dreadful nature of their punishments--who declare themselves the chosen ministers of their oracular laws--whomake all the duties of morality centre in themselves; are those whomsuperstition least contributes to render virtuous; are men who possessthe least milk of human kindness; the fewest feelings of tenderness; whoare the most intolerant to their neighbours; the most indulgent tothemselves; the most unsociable in their habits; the most licentious intheir manners; the most unforgiving in their disposition. Incontemplating their conduct, we should be tempted to accredit, that theywere perfectly undeceived with respect to the idols whom they serve;that no one was less the dupe to those menaces which they so solemnlypronounce in their name, than themselves. In the hands of the priests ofalmost all countries, their divinities resembled the head of Medusa, which, without injuring him who shewed it, petrified all others. Thepriests are generally the most crafty of men, and many among them aresubstantively wicked. 

Does the idea of these avenging, these remunerating systems, impose uponsome princes of the earth, who found their titles, who rest their powerupon them; who avail themselves of their terrific power to intimidatetheir subjects; to make the people, often rendered unhappy by theircaprice, hold them in reverence? Alas! the theological, the supernaturalideas, adopted by the pride of some sovereigns, have done nothing morethan corrupt politics--than metamorphose, them into an abject tyranny. The ministers of these idols, always tyrants themselves, or thecherishers of despots, are unceasingly crying out to monarchs that theyare the images of the Divinity. Do they not inform the credulousmultitude that heaven is willing they should groan under the most cruelbondage; writhe under the most multifarious injustice; that to suffer istheir inheritance; that their princes have the indubitable right toappropriate the goods, dispose of the persons, coerce the liberty;command the lives of their subjects? Do not some of these chiefs ofnations, thus poisoned in the name of deified idols, imagine that everyindulgence of their wayward humour is freely permitted to them? At oncecompetitors, representatives, and rivals of the celestial powers, dothey not, in some instances, exercise after their example the mostarbitrary despotism? Do they not, in the intoxication into whichsacerdotal flattery has plunged them, think that like their idols, theyare not accountable to man for their actions, that they owe nothing tothe rest of mortals, that they are bound by no bonds but their ownunruly will, to their miserable subjects?

Then it is evident that it is to theological notions, to the looseflattery of its ministers, that are to be ascribed the despotism, thetyrannical injustice, the corruption, the licentiousness of someprinces, and the blindness of those people, to whom in heaven's namethey interdict the love of liberty; who are forbid to labour effectuallyto their own happiness; to oppose themselves to violence, howeverflagrant; to exercise their natural rights, however conducive to theirwelfare. These intoxicated rulers, even while adoring their avenginggods, in the act of bending others to their worship, do not scruple tooutrage them by their irregularities--by their want of moral virtue. What morality is this, but that of men who offer themselves as livingimages, as animated representatives of the Divinity? Are those monarchs, then, who are habitually unjust, who wrest without remorse the breadfrom the hands of a famished people, to administer to the profligacy oftheir insatiable courtiers--to pamper the luxury of the vile instrumentsof their enormities, atheists? Are, then, those ambitious conquerors, who not contented with oppressing their own slaves, carry desolation, spread misery, deal out death among the subjects of others, atheists? Dowe not witness in some of those potentates who rule over nations by_divine right_, (a patent of power, which every usurper claims as hisown) ambitious mortals, whose exterminating fury nothing can arrest;with hearts perfectly insensible to the sorrows of mankind; with mindswithout energy; with souls without virtue; who neglect their mostevident duties, with which they do not even deign to become acquainted;powerful men, who insolently set themselves above the rules of equity;knaves who make a sport of honesty? Generally speaking, is there theleast sincerity in the alliances which these rulers form amongthemselves? Do they ever last longer than for the season of theirconvenience? Do we find substantive virtues adorn those who mostabjectly submit themselves to all the follies of superstition? Do theynot tax each other as violators of property--as faithlessly aggrandizingthemselves at the expence of their neighbour; in fact, do we not seethem endeavouring to surprise, anxious to over-reach, ready to injureeach other, without being arrested by the menaces of their creeds, or atall yielding to the calls of humanity? In general, they are too haughtyto be humane; too inflated with ambition to be virtuous; they make acode for themselves, which they cannot help violating. Charles the Fifthused to say, "that being a warrior, it was impossible for him to haveeither conscience or religion. " His general, the Marquis de Piscaire, observed, that "nothing was more difficult, than to serve at one and thesame time, the god _Mars_ and _Jesus Christ_. " Indeed, nothing can bemore opposed to the true spirit of Christianity than the profession ofarms; notwithstanding the Christian princes have the most numerousarmies, and are in perpetual hostility with each other: perhaps theclergy themselves do not hold forth the most peaceable examples of thedoctrine they teach; they sometimes wrangle for tithes, dispute fortrifling enjoyments, quarrel for worldly opinion, with as muchdetermined obstinacy, with as, much settled rancour, with as littlecharity, as could possibly inhabit the bosom of the most unenlightenedPagan, whose ignorance they despise--whose superstition they rank as thegrossest effort of idolatrous debasement. It might almost admit of doubtwhether they would be quite pleased to see the mild maxims of theEvangelists, the true Christian meekness, rigidly followed--whether theymight not think the complete working of their own system would clashwith their own immediate interests? Is it a demonstrable axiom that theministers of the Christian faith do not think soldiers are beingsextremely well calculated to give efficacy to their doctrine--solidityto their advantages--durability to their claims? Be this as it may, priests as well as monarchs have occasionally waged war for the mostfutile interests; impoverished a people from the anti-christian motives;wrested from each other with all the venom of furies, the bloody remnantof the nations they have laid waste; in fact, to judge by their conducton certain occasions, it might have been a question if they were notdisputing who should have the credit of making the greater number ofmiserable beings upon earth. At length, either wearied with their ownfury, exhausted by their own devouring passions, or compelled by thestern hand of necessity, they have permitted suffering humanity to takebreath; they have allowed the miseries concomitant on war, to cease foran instant their devastating havoc; they have made peace in the name ofthat God, whose decrees, as attested by themselves, they have been sowantonly outraging, --still ready, however, to violate their most solemnpledges, when the smallest interest could offer them a pretext. 

Thus it will be obvious, in what manner the idea of the Divinityoperates on the priest, as well as upon those who are called his images;who insist they have no account to render but to him alone. Among theserepresentatives of the Divine Majesty, it is with difficulty duringthousands of years we find some few who have equity, sensibility, virtue, or even the most ordinary talent. History points out some ofthese vicegerents of the Deity, who in the exacerbation of theirdelirious rage, have insisted upon displacing him, by exaltingthemselves into gods; and exacting the most obsequious worship; who haveinflicted the most cruel torments on those who have opposed themselvesto their madness, and refused to acknowledge the Divinity of theirpersons. These men, whose licentiousness knew no limits, from theimpunity which attended their actions, notwithstanding they had learnedto despise public opinion, to set decency at defiance, to indulge in themost shameless vice: in spite of the power they possessed; of the homagethey received; of the terror they inspired: although they had learned tocounterfeit, with great effect, the whole catalogue of human virtues;found it impossible, even with the addition of their enormous wealth, wrenched from the necessities of laborious honesty, to counterfeit theanimating blush, which modest merit brings forth, when eulogized by somehappy being whose felicity he has occasioned, by following the great lawof nature--which says, "_love thy neighbour as thyself_. " On thecontrary, we see them grow listless with satiety; disgusted with theirown inordinate indulgences; obliged to recur to strange pleasures, toawaken their benumbed faculties; to run headlong into the most costlyfollies, in the fruitless attempt to keep up the activity of theirsouls, the spring of which they had for ever relaxed, by the profligacyof their enjoyment. 

History, although it describes a multitude of vicious rulers, whoseirregular propensities were of the most mischievous consequence to thehuman race, nevertheless, shews us but few who have been atheists. Theannals of nations, on the contrary, offer to our view great numbers ofsuperstitious princes, governed by their mistresses, led by unworthyfavorites, leagued with priests, who passed their lives plunged inluxury; indulging the most effeminate pursuits; following the mostchildish pleasures; pleased with ostentatious show; slaves even to thefashion of the vestments that covered them; but strangers to every manlyvirtue; insensible to the sorrows of their subjects; although uniformlygood to their hungry courtiers, invariably kind to those cringingsycophants who surrounded their persons, and poisoned their ears withthe most fulsome flattery: in short, superstitious persecutors, who, torender themselves acceptable to their priests, to expiate their ownshameful irregularities, added to all their other vices that oftyrannizing over the mind, of fettering the conscience, of destroyingtheir subjects for their opinions, when they were in hostility withtheir own received doctrines. Indeed, superstition in princes frequentlyallied itself with the most horrid crimes; they have almost allprofessed religion, although very few of them have had a just knowledgeof morality--have practiced any useful substantive virtue. Superstitiousnotions, on the contrary, often serve to render them more blind, toaugment their evil inclinations; to set them at a greater distance frommoral goodness. They for the most part believe themselves assured of thefavor of heaven; they think they faithfully serve their gods, that theanger of their divinities is appeased, if for a short season they shewthemselves attached to futile customs--lend themselves to absurd rites--perform some ridiculous duties, which superstition imposes on them, witha view to obtain their assistance in the prosecution of its own plans, very rarely in strict unison with their immediate interest. Nero, thecruel, sanguinary, matricidal Nero, his hands yet reeking with the bloodof that unfortunate being who had borne him in her womb, who had, withagonizing pains, given the monster to the world that plunged the daggerin her heart, was desirous to be initiated into the _EleusinianMysteries_. The odious Constantine himself, found in the priests, accomplices disposed to expiate his crimes. The infamous Philip, whoseungovernable ambition caused him to be called the daemon of the south, whilst he assassinated his wife and son, caused the throats of thewretched Batavians to be cut for their religious opinions. It is thus, that the priests of superstition sometimes persuade sovereigns they canatone for crimes, by committing others of a more atrocious kind--of anincreased magnitude. 

It would be fair to conclude, from the conduct of so many princes, whohad so much superstition, but so slender a portion of virtue, that thenotion of their gods, far from being useful to them, only served torender them wore corrupt--to make them more abominable than they alreadywere; that the idea of an avenging power, placed in the perspective offuturity, imposed but little restraint on the turbulence of deifiedtyrants, who were sufficiently powerful not to fear the reproaches oftheir subjects--who had the insensibility to be deaf to the censure oftheir fellows--who were gifted with an obduracy of soul, that preventedtheir having compassion for the miseries of mankind, from whom theyfancied themselves so pre-eminently distinguished; which, in fact, theywere, if crime can be allowed for the standard of distinction. Neitherheaven nor earth furnishes a balsam of sufficient efficacy to heal theinveterate wounds of beings cankered to this degree: for such chronicdiseases, there is "no balm in Gilead:" there is no curb sufficientlycoercive to rein in the passions, to which superstition itself givesactivity; which only makes them more unruly; renders them moreinveterately rash. Whenever men flatter themselves with easily expiatingtheir sins--when they soothe themselves with the consolitary idea ofappeasing the anger of the gods by a show of earnestness, they thendeliver themselves up, with the most unrestrained freedom, to the bentof their criminal pursuits. The most dissolute men are frequently inappearance extremely attached to superstition: it furnishes them with ameans of compensating by ceremonies, that of which they are deficient inmorals: it is much easier for them to adopt a faith, to believe in adoctrine, to conform themselves to certain rituals, than to renouncetheir habits, resist their passions, or relinquish the pursuit of thatpleasure, which results to unprincipled minds from the prosecution ofthe most diabolical schemes. 

Under chiefs, depraved even by superstition, nations continuednecessarily to be corrupted. The great conformed themselves to the vicesof their masters; the example of these distinguished men, whom theuninformed erroneously believe to be happy, was followed by the people;courts thus became the sinks from whence issued the epidemic contagionof licentious indulgence. The law only held forth pictures of honesty;the dispensers of jurisprudence were partial, partook of the mania ofthe times, were labouring under the general disease; Justice sufferedher balance to rust, occasionally removed her bandage, although shealways wore it in the presence of the poor; genuine ideas of equity hadgrown into disuse; distinct notions of right and wrong becametroublesome and unfashionable; education was neglected; it served onlyto produce prejudiced beings, grounded in ignorance--devotees, alwaysready to injure themselves--fanatics, eager to shew their zeal everwilling to annoy their unfortunate neighbours. Superstition, sustainedby tyranny, ousted every other feeling, hoodwinked its destined victims, rendered those tractable whom it had the intention to despoil. Whoeverdoubts of these truisms, has only to turn over the pages of history, hewill find myriads of evidence to much more than is here stated. Machiavel, in his _Political Discourses upon Titus Livius_, labours thepoint hard, to shew the utility of superstition to the Roman Republic:unfortunately, however, the examples he brings forward in its support, incontestibly prove that none but the senate profited by the infatuationof the people, who availed itself of their blindness more effectually tobend them to its yoke. 

Thus it was that nations, destitute of equitable laws, deficient in theadministration of justice, submitted to irrational government, continuedin slavery by the monarch, chained up in ignorance by the priest, forwant of enlightened institutions, deprived of reasonable education, became corrupt, superstitious, and flagitious. The nature of man, thejust interests of society, the real advantage of the sovereign, the truehappiness of the people, once mistaken, were completely lost sight of;the morality of nature, founded upon the essence of man living insociety, was equally unknown; lay buried under an enormous load ofprejudice, that no common efforts were competent to remove. It wasentirely forgotten that man has wants; that society was formed that hemight, with greater security, facilitate the means of satisfying them;that government, to be legitimate, ought to have for object, thehappiness--for end, the means of maintaining the indivisibility of thecommunity; that consequently it ought to give activity to springs, fullplay to motives suitable to have a favorable influence over sensiblebeings. It was quite overlooked, that virtue faithfully rewarded, viceas regularly visited, had an elastic force, of which the publicauthorities could efficaciously avail themselves, to determine theircitizens to blend their interests; to work out their own felicity, bylabouring to the happiness of the body of which they were members. Thesocial virtues were unknown, the _amor patriae_ became a chimera. Menthus associated, thus blinded by their superstitious bias, credulouslybelieved their own immediate interest consisted in injuring each other;they were solely occupied with meriting the favor of those men, whofatally accreditted the doctrine of clerical flatterers, of silver-tonedcourtiers, which taught that they wore distinctly interested in injuringthe whole. 

This is the mode in which the human heart has become perverted; here isthe genuine source of moral evil; the hot-bed of that epidemicaldepravity, the cause of that hereditary corruption, the fountain of thatinveterate delinquency, which pervaded the earth; rendering theabundance of nature nothing better than a curse; blasting the fairestprospects of humanity; degrading man below the beast of the forest;sinking his intellectual faculties in the most savage barbarity;rendering him the vile instrument of lawless ambition; the wretched toolby which the fetters of his species were firmly rivetted; obliging himto moisten his harvest with the bitter tears of the most abject slavery. For the purpose of remedying so many crying evils, grown insupportable, recourse was had to new superstitions. Notwithstanding this alone hadproduced them, it was still imagined, that the menaces of heaven wouldrestrain passions which every thing conspired to rouse in all hearts;fatuity persuaded monarchs that ideal, metaphysical barriers, terriblefables, distant phantoms, would be competent to curb those inordinatedesires, to rein in that impetuous propensity to crime, that renderedsociety incommodious to itself; credulity fancied that invisible powerswould be more efficacious, than those visible motives that evidentlyinvited mortals to the commission of mischief. Every thing wasunderstood to be achieved, by occupying man's mind with gloomy chimeras, with vague, undefinable terrors, with avenging angels; and politicsmadly believed that its own interests grew out of the blind submissionof its subjects, to the ministers of these delusive doctrines. 

What was the result? Nations had only sacerdotal laws; theologicalmorality; accommodated to the interests of the hierarchy--suitable tothe views of subtle priests: who substituted reveries for realities, opinions for reason, rank fallacies for sterling truths; who madeceremonies supply the place of virtue; a pious blindness supersede thenecessity of an enlightened understanding; undermined the sacredness ofoaths, and placed fanaticism on the altars of sociability. By anecessary consequence of that confidence which the people were compelledto give to the ministers of superstition, two distinct authorities wereestablished in each state, who were substantially at variance, incontinual hostility with each other. The priest fought the sovereignwith the formidable weapon of opinion; it generally proved sufficientlypowerful to shake the most established thrones. Thus, although thehierarchy was unceasingly admonishing the people to submit themselves tothe divine authority of their sovereigns, because it was derivedimmediately from heaven, yet, whenever it so happened that the monarchdid not repay their advocacy, by blindly yielding his own authority tothe supervisance of the priests, these made no scruple of threateninghim with loss of his temporalities; fulminated their anathemas, interdicted his dominions, and sometimes went the length of absolvinghis subjects from allegiance. Superstition, in general, only upholdsdespotism, that it may with greater certainty direct its blows againstits enemies; it overthrows it whenever it is found to clash with itsinterests. The ministers of invisible powers preach up obedience tovisible powers, only when they find these humbly devoted to themselves. Thus the sovereign was never at rest, but when abjectly cringing to hispriest, he tractably received his lessons--lent himself to his franticzeal--and piously enabled him to carry on the furious occupation ofproselytism. These priests, always restless, full of ambition, burningwith intolerance, frequently excited the sovereign to ravage his ownstates--encouraged him to tyranny: when, pursuing this sacerdotal mania, he feared to have outraged humanity, to have incurred the displeasure ofheaven, he was quickly reconciled to himself, upon promise ofundertaking some distant expedition, for the purpose of bringing someunfortunate nation within the pale of their own particular creed. Whenthe two rival powers united themselves, morality gained nothing by thejunction; the people were neither more happy, nor more virtuous; theirmorals, their welfare, their liberty, were equally overwhelmed by thecombined powers. Thus, superstitious princes always felt interested inthe maintenance of theological opinions, which were rendered flatteringto their vanity, favorable to their power. Like the grateful perfumes ofArabia, that are used to cover the ill scent of a deadly poison, thepriest lulled them into security by administering to their sensualities;these, in return, made common cause with him: fully persuaded that thesuperstition which they themselves adopted, must be the most wholesomefor their subjects, most conducive to their interests, those who refusedto receive the boon, thus gratuitously forced upon them, were treated asenemies, held up to public scorn, and rendered the victims ofpunishment. The most superstitious sovereign became, either politicallyor through piety, the executioner of one part of his slaves; he wastaught to believe it a sacred duty to tyrannize over the mind--tooverwhelm the refractory--to crush the enemy of his priest, under anidea that he was therefore hostile to his own authority. In cutting thethroats of these unfortunate sceptics, he imagined he at once dischargedhis obligations to heaven, and gave security to his own power. He did, not perceive, that by immolating victims to his priest, he in factstrengthened the arm of his most formidable foe--the real enemy to hisauthority--the rival of his greatness--the least subjected of hissubjects. 

But the prevalence of these false notions, with which both the minds ofthe sovereign and the people were prepossessed, it was found that everything in society concurred to gratify the avidity, to bolster the pride, to glut the vengeance of the sacerdotal order: every where, it was to beobserved, that the most turbulent, the most dangerous, the most uselessmen, were those who were the most amply rewarded. The strange spectaclepresented itself, of beholding those who were born the bitterest enemiesto sovereign power, cherished by its fostering care--honoured at itshands: the most rebellious subjects were looked upon as the pillars ofthe throne; the corrupters of the people were rendered the exclusivemasters of education; the least laborious of the citizens were richlyrewarded for their idleness--munificently remunerated for the mostfutile speculations--held in respect for their fatal discord--gorgedwith benefits for their inefficacious prayers: they swept off the fat ofthe land for their expiations, so destructive to morals, so calculatedto give permanency to crime. Thus, by a strange fatuity, the viper thatcould, and frequently did, inflict the most deadly sting on the bosom ofconfiding credulity, was pampered and nourished by the unsuspecting handof its destined victim. 

For thousands of years, nations as well as sovereigns were emulouslydespoiling themselves to enrich the expounders of superstition; toenable them to wallow in abundance: they loaded them with honors, decorated them with titles, invested them with privileges, granted themimmunities, for no other purpose than to make them bad citizens, unrulysubjects, mischievous beings, who revenged upon society the advantagesthey had received. What was the fruit that kings and people gatheredfrom their imprudent kindness? What was the harvest these men yielded totheir labour? Did princes really become more powerful; were nationsrendered more happy; did they grow more flourishing; did men become morerational? No! Unquestionably, the sovereign lost the greater portion ofhis authority; he was the slave of his priest; and when he wished topreserve the remnant that was left, or to recover some part of what hadbeen wrested from him, he was obliged to be continually wrestlingagainst the men his own indulgence, his own weakness, had furnished withmeans, to set his authority at defiance: the riches of society werelavished to support the idleness, maintain the splendour, satiate theluxury of the most useless, the most arrogant, the most dangerous of itsmembers. 

Did the morals of the people improve under the pastoral care of theseguides, who were so liberally rewarded? Alas! the superstitious neverknew them, their fanatic creed had usurped the place of every virtue;its ministers, satisfied with upholding the doctrines, with preservingthe ceremonies so useful to their own interests, only inventedfictitious crimes--multiplied painful penances--instituted absurdcustoms; to the end, that they might turn even the transgressions oftheir slaves to their own immediate profit. Every where they exercised amonopoly of expiatory indulgences; they made a lucrative traffic ofpretended pardons from above; they established a tariff, according towhich crime was no longer contraband, but freely admitted upon payingthe customs. Those subjected to the heaviest impost, were always such asthe hierarchy judged most inimical to its own stability; you might at avery easy rate obtain permission to attack the dignity of the sovereign, to undermine the temporal power, but it was enormously dear to beallowed to touch even the hem of the sacerdotal garments. Thus heresy, sacrilege, &c. Were considered crimes of a much deeper dye, that fixedan indelible stain on the perpetrator, alarmed the mind of the priestlyorder, much more seriously than the most inveterate villainy, the mostdetermined delinquency, which more immediately involved the trueinterests of society. Thence the ideas of the people were completelyoverturned, imaginary crimes terrified them, while real crimes had noeffect upon their obdurate hearts. A man, whose opinions were atvariance with the received doctrines, whose abstract systems did notharmonize with those of his priest, was more loathed than a corrupter ofyouth; more abhorred than an assassin; more hated than an oppressor; washeld in greater contempt than a robber; was punished with greater rigorthan the seducer of innocence. The acme of all wickedness, was todespise that which the priest was desirous should be looked upon assacred. The celebrated Gordon says, "the most abominable of heresies, isto believe there is any other god than the clergy. " The civil lawsconcurred to aid this confusion of ideas; they inflicted the mostserious penalties, punished in the most atrocious manner those unknowncrimes which imagination had magnified into the most flagitious actions;heretics, infidels, were brought to the stake, and publicly burnt withthe utmost refinement of cruelty; the brain was tortured to find meansof augmenting the sufferings of the unhappy victims to sacerdotal fury;whilst calumniators of innocence, adulterers, depredators of everydescription, knaves of all kinds, were at a trifling cost absolved fromtheir past iniquity, and opened a new account of future delinquency. 

Under such instructors what could become of youth? The period ofjuvenility was shamefully sacrificed to superstition. Man, from hisearliest infancy, was poisoned with unintelligible notions; fed withmysteries; crammed with fables; drenched with doctrines, in which he wascompelled to acquiesce without being able to comprehend. His brain wasdisturbed with phantoms, alarmed with chimeras, rendered frantic byvisions. His genius was cramped with puerile pursuits, mechanicaldevotions, sacred trifles. Superstition at length so fascinated thehuman mind, made such mere automata of mankind, that the peopleconsented to address their gods in a dialect they did not themselvesunderstand: women occupied their whole lives in singing Latin, withoutcomprehending a word of the language; the people assisted verypunctually, without being competent to explain any part of the worship, under an idea that it was taken kindly they should thus wearythemselves; that it was sufficient to shew their persons in the sacredtemples, which were beautifully decorated to fascinate their senses. Thus man wasted his most precious moments in absurd customs; spent hislife in idle ceremonies; his bead was crowded with sophisms, his mindwas loaded with errors; intoxicated with fanaticism, he was the declaredenemy to reason; for ever prepossessed against truth, the energy of hissoul was resisted by shackles too ponderous for its elasticity; thespring gave way, and he sunk into sloth and wretchedness: from thishumiliating state he could never again soar; he could no longer becomeuseful either to himself or to his associates: the importance heattached to his imaginary science, or rather the systematic ignorancewhich served for its basis, rendered it impossible for the most fertilesoil to produce any thing but thorns; for the best proportioned tree toyield any thing but crabs. 

Does a superstitious, sacerdotal education, form intrepid citizens, intelligent fathers of families, kind husbands, just masters, faithfulservants, loyal subjects, pacific associates? No! it either makespeevish enthusiasts or morose devotees, who are incommodious tothemselves, vexatious to others: men without principle, who quickly pourthe waters of Lethe over the terrors with which they have beendisturbed; who know no moral obligation, who respect no virtue. Thussuperstition, elevated above every thing else, held forth the fanaticaldogma, "Better to obey the gods than men;" in consequence, man believedhe must revolt against his prince, detach himself from his wife, detesthis children, estrange himself from his friends, cut the throats of hisfellow-citizens, every time they questioned the veracity of his faith:in short, a superstitious education, when it had its effect, only servedto corrupt the juvenile heart--to fascinate youthful winds with itspageantry--to degrade the human soul--to make man mistake the duties heowed to himself, his obligations to society, his relations with thebeings by whom he was surrounded. 

What advantages might not nations have reaped, if they would haveemployed on useful objects, those riches, which ignorance has soshamefully lavished on the expounders of superstition; which fatuity hasbestowed on the most useless ceremonies? What might not have been theprogress of genius, if it had enjoyed those ample remunerations, grantedduring so many ages to those priests who at all times opposed itselevation? What perfection might not science have attained, what heightmight not the arts have reached, if they had had the same succours thatwere held forth with a prodigal hand to enthusiasm and futility? Uponwhat rocks might not morality have been rested, what solid foundationsmight not politics have found, with what majestic grandeur might nottruth have illumined the human horizon, if they had experienced the samefostering cares, the same animating countenance, the same publicsanction, which accompanied imposture--which was showered uponfanaticism--which shielded falsehood from the rude attack ofinvestigation--which gave impunity to its ministers?

It is then obvious, that superstitious, theological notions, have notproduced any of those solid advantages that have been held forth; if maybe doubted whether they were not always, and ever will remain, contraryto healthy politics, opposed to sound morality; they frequently changesovereigns into restless, jealous, mischievous, divinities; theytransform their subjects into envious, wicked slaves, who by idlepageantry, by futile ceremonies, by an exterior acquiescence inunintelligible opinions, imagine themselves amply compensated for theevil they commit against each other. Those who have never had theconfidence to examine these sublimated opinions; those who feelpersuaded that their duties spring out of these abstruse doctrines;those who are actually commanded to live in peace, to cherish eachother, to lend mutual assistance, to abstain from evil, and to do good, presently lose sight of these sterile speculations, as soon as presentinterests, ungovernable passions, inveterate habits, or irresistiblewhims, hurry them away. Where are we to look for that equity, that unionof interest, that peace, that concord, which these unsettled notions, supported by superstition, backed with the full force of authority, promise to the societies placed under their surveillance? Under theinfluence of corrupt courts, of time-serving priests, who, eitherimpostors or fanatics, are never in harmony with each other, are only tobe discerned vicious men, degraded by ignorance--enslaved by criminalhabits--swayed by transient interests--guided by shameful pleasures--sunk in a vortex of dissipation; who do not even think of the Divinity. In despite of his theological ideas, the subtle courtier continues toweave his dark plots, labours to gratify his ambition, seeks to satisfyhis avidity, to indulge his hatred, to wreak his vengeance, to give fullswing to all the passions inherent to the perversity of his being:maugre that frightful hell, of which the idea alone makes her tremble, the woman of intrigue persists in her amours; continues her harlotry, revels in her adulteries. Notwithstanding their dissipated conduct, their dissolute manners, their entire want of moral principle, thegreater part of those who swarm in courts, who crowd in cities, wouldrecoil with horror, if the smallest doubt was exhibited of the truth ofthat creed which they outrage every moment, of their lives. Whatadvantage, then, has resulted to the human race from those opinions, souniversal, at the same time so barren? They seem rarely to have had anyother kind of influence than to serve as a pretext for the mostdangerous passions--as a mantle of security for the most criminalindulgences. Does not the superstitious despot, who would scruple toomit the least part of the ceremonies of his persuasion, on quitting thealtars at which he has been sacrificing, on leaving the temple wherethey have been delivering the oracles and terrifying crime in the nameof heaven, return to his vices, reiterate his injustice, increase hispolitical crimes, augment his transgressions against society? Issuingfrom the sacred fane, their ears still ringing with the doctrines theyhave heard, the minister returns to his vexations, the courtier to hisintrigues, the courtezan to her prostitution, the publican to hisextortions, the merchant to his frauds, the trader to his tricks. 

Will it be pretended that those cowardly assassins, those dastardlyrobbers, those miserable criminals, whom evil institutions, thenegligence of government, the laxity of morals, continually multiply;from whom the laws, in many instances too sanguinary, frequently wresttheir existence; will it, I say, be pretended that the malefactors whoregularly furnish the gibbets, who daily crowd the scaffolds, are eitherincredulous or atheists? No! Unquestionably, these unfortunate beings, these wretched outcasts, these children of turpitude, firmly believe inGod; his name has been repeated to them from their infancy; they havebeen informed of the punishment destined for sinners: they have beenhabituated in early life to tremble at his judgments; nevertheless theyhave outraged society; their unruly passions, stronger than their fears, not having been coerced by visible motives, have not, for much morecogent reasons, been restrained by those which are invisible: distant, concealed punishments will never be competent to arrest those excesseswhich present and assured torments are incapable of preventing. 

In short, does not every day's experience furnish us the lesson, thatmen, persuaded that an all-seeing Deity views them, hears them, encompasses them, do not on that account arrest their progress when thefuror exists, either for gratifying their licentious passions, orcommitting the most dishonest actions? The same individual who wouldfear the inspection of the meanest of his fellows, whom the presence ofanother man would prevent from committing a bad action, from deliveringhimself up to some scandalous vice, freely sins, cheerfully lendshimself to crime, when he believes no eyes beholds him but those of hisGod. What purpose, then, does the conviction of the omniscience, theubiquity, the omnipotence of the Divinity answer, if it imposes muchless on the conduct of the human being, than the idea of beingoverlooked by the least of his fellow men? He who would not have thetemerity to commit a crime, even in the presence of a child, will makeno scruple of boldly committing it, when he shall have only his God fora witness. These facts, which are indubitable, ill serve for a reply tothose who insist that the fear of God is more suitable to restrain theactions of men, than wholesome laws, with strict discipline. When manbelieves he has only his God to dread, he commonly permits nothing tointerrupt his course. 

Those persons who do not in the least suspect the power of superstitiousnotions, who have the most perfect reliance on their efficacy, veryrarely, however, employ them, when they are desirous to influence theconduct of those who are subordinate to them; when they are disposed tore-conduct them to the paths of reason. In the advice which a fathergives to his vicious, criminal son, he rather represents to him thepresent temporal inconveniencies to which his conduct exposes him, thanthe danger he encounters in offending an avenging God; he points out tohim the natural consequences of his irregularities, his health damagedby debaucheries; the loss of his reputation by criminal pursuits; theruin of his fortune by gambling; the punishments of society, &c. Thusthe DEICOLIST himself, on the most important occasions of life, reckonsmore stedfastly upon the force of natural motives, than upon thosesupernatural inducements furnished by superstition: the same man, whovilifies the motives that an atheist can have to do good and abstainfrom evil, makes use of them himself on this occasion, because he feelsthey are the most substantive he can employ. 

Almost all men believe in an avenging and remunerating God; yet nearlyin all countries the number of the wicked bears a larger proportion thanthat of the good. If the true cause of this general corruption betraced, it will be more frequently found in the superstitious notionsinculcated by theology, than in those imaginary sources which thevarious superstitions have invented to account for human depravity. Manis always corrupt wherever he is badly governed; wherever superstitiondeifies the sovereign, his government becomes unworthy: this pervertedand assured of impunity, necessarily render his people miserable;misery, when it exceeds the point of endurance, as necessarily rendersthem wicked. When the people are submitted to irrational masters, theyare never guided by reason. If they are blinded by priests, who areeither deceived or impostors, their reason become useless. Tyrants, whencombined with priests, have generally been successful in their effortsto prevent nations from becoming enlightened--from seeking after truth--from ameliorating their condition--from perfectioning their morals; andnever has the union smiled upon liberty: the people, unable to resistthe mighty torrent produced by the confluence of two such rivers, haveusually sunk into the most abject slavery. It is only by enlighteningthe mass of mankind, by demonstrating truth, that we can promise torender him better; that we can indulge the hope of making him happy. Itis by causing both sovereigns and subjects to feel their true relationswith each other, that their actual interests will be improved; thattheir politics will be perfectioned: it will then be felt andaccredited, that the true art of governing mortals, the sure method ofgaining their affections, is not the art of blinding them, of deceivingthem, or of tyrannizing over them. Let us, then, good humouredly consultreason, avail ourselves of experience, interrogate nature; we shall, perhaps, find what is requisite to be done, in order to labourefficaciously to the happiness of the human race. We shall mostassuredly perceive, that error is the true source of the evils whichembitter our existence; that it is in cheering the hearts, indissipating those vain phantoms which alarm the ignorant, in laying theaxe to the root of superstition, that we can peaceably seek after truth;that it is only in the conflagration of this baneful tree, we can everexpect to light the torch which shall illumine the road to felicity. Then let man study nature; observe her immutable laws; let him dive intohis own essence; let him cure himself of his prejudices: these meanswill conduct him by a gentle declivity to that virtue, without which hemust feel he can never be permanently happy in the world he inhabits. 

If man could once cease to fear, from that moment he would he trulyhappy. Superstition is a domestic enemy which he always carries withinhimself: those who will seriously occupy themselves with this formidablephantom, must be content to endure continual agonies, to live inperpetual inquietude: if they will neglect the objects most worthy ofinteresting them, to run after chimeras, they will commonly pass amelancholy existence, in groaning, in praying, in sacrificing, inexpiating faults, either real or imaginary, which they believecalculated to offend their priests; frequently in their irrational furythey will torment themselves, they will make it a duty to inflict ontheir own persons the most barbarous punishments: but society will reapno benefit from these mournful opinions--from the tortures of thesepious irrationals; because their mind, completely absorbed by theirgloomy reveries, their time dissipated in the most absurd ceremonies, will leave them no opportunity of being really advantageous to thecommunity of which they are members. The most superstitions men arecommonly misanthropists, quite useless to the world, and very injuriousto themselves: if ever they display energy, it is only to devise meansby which they can increase their own affliction; to discover new methodsto torture their mind; to find out the most efficacious means to deprivethemselves of those objects which their nature renders desirable. It iscommon in the world to behold penitents, who are intimately persuadedthat by dint of barbarous inflictions on their own persons, by means ofa lingering suicide, they shall merit the favor of heaven. Madmen ofthis species are to be seen every where; superstition has in all ages, in all places, given birth to the most cruel extravagances, to the mostinjurious follies. 

If, indeed, these irrational devotees only injure themselves, anddeprive society of that assistance which they owe to it, they withoutdoubt do less mischief than those turbulent, zealous fanatics, who, infuriated with their superstitious ideas, believe themselves bound todisturb the world, to commit actual crimes, to sustain the cause of whatthey denominate the true faith. It not unfrequently happens that inoutraging morality, the zealous enthusiast supposes he renders himselfagreeable to his God. He makes perfection consist either in tormentinghimself, or in rending asunder, in favour of his fanatical ideas, themost sacred ties that connect mortals with each other. 

Let us, then, acknowledge, that the notions of superstition, are notmore suitable to procure the welfare, to establish the content, toconfirm the peace of individuals, than they are of the society of whichthey are members. If some peaceable, honest, inconclusive enthusiasts, find either comfort or consolation in them, there are millions who, moreconclusive to their principles, are unhappy during their whole life; whoare perpetually assailed by the most melancholy ideas; to whom theirdisordered imagination shews these notions, as every instant involvingthem in the most cruel punishments. Under such formidable systems, atranquil, sociable devotee, is a man who has not reasoned upon them. 

In short, every thing serves to prove, that superstitious opinions havethe strongest influence over men; that they torment them unceasingly, divide them from their dearest connections, inflame their minds, envenomtheir passions, render them miserable without ever restraining theiractions, except when their own temperament proves too feeble to propelthem forward: all this holds forth one great lesson, that _superstitionis incompatible with liberty, and can never furnish good citizens_. 

CHAP. IX. 

_Theological Notions cannot be the Basis of Morality. --Comparisonbetween Theological Ethics and Natural Morality. --Theology prejudicialto the human Mind. _

Felicity is the great end of human existence; a supposition therefore, to be actually useful to man, should render him happy. By what parity ofreasoning can he flatter himself that an hypothesis, which does notfacilitate his happiness in his present duration, may one day conducthim to permanent bliss? If mortals only sigh, tremble, and groan in thisworld, of which they have a knowledge, upon what foundation is it theyexpect a more felicitous existence hereafter, in a world of which theyknow nothing? If man is every where the child of calamity, the victim tonecessary evil, the unhappy sufferer under an immutable system, ought hereasonably to indulge a greater confidence in future happiness?

On the other hand, a supposition which should throw light on everything, which should supply an easy solution to all the questions towhich it could be applied, when even it should not be competent todemonstrate the certitude, would probably be true: but that system whichshould only obscure the clearest notions, render more insoluble theproblems desired to be resolved by its means, would most assuredly belooked upon as fallacious; as either useless or dangerous. To beconvinced of this principle, let us examine, without prejudice, if thetheological ideas of the Divinity have ever given the solution to anyone difficulty. Has the human understanding progressed a single step bythe assistance of this metaphysical science? Has it not, on thecontrary, had a tendency to obscure the wore certain science of morals?Has it not, in many instances, rendered the most essential duties of ournature problematical? Has it not in a great measure confounded thenotions of virtue and vice, of justice and injustice? Indeed, what isvirtue, in the eyes of the generality of theologians? They willinstantly reply, "that which is conformable to the will of theincomprehensible beings who govern nature. " But way it not be asked, without offence to the individual opinions of any one, what are thesebeings, of whom they are unceasingly talking, without having thecapacity to comprehend them? How can we acquire a knowledge of theirwill? They will forthwith reply, with a confidence that is meant tostrike conviction on uninformed minds, by recounting what they are not, without even attempting to inform us what they are. If they do undertaketo furnish an idea of them, they will heap upon their hypotheticalbeings a multitude, of contradictory, incompatible attributes, withwhich they will form a whole, at once impossible for the human mind toconceive or else they will refer to oracles, by which they insist theirintentions have been promulgated to mankind. If, however, they arerequested to prove the authenticity of these oracles, which are at suchvariance with each other, they will refer to miracles in support of whatthey assert: these miracles, independent of the difficulty there mustexist to repose in them our faith, when, as we have seen, they areadmitted even by the theologians themselves, to be contrary to theintelligence, the immutability, to the omnipotency of their immaterialsubstances, are, moreover, warmly disputed by each particular sect, asbeing impositions, practised by the others for their own individualadvantage. As a last resource, then, it will be necessary to accreditthe integrity, to rely on the veracity, to rest on the good faith of thepriests, who announce these oracles. On this again, there arises twoalmost insuperable difficulties, in the _first_ place, who shall assureus of their actual mission? are we quite certain none of them may bemistaken? how shall we be justified in giving credence to their powers?are they not these priests themselves, who announce to us that they arethe infallible interpreters of a being whom they acknowledge they do notat all know? In the _second_ place, which set of these oraculardevelopements are we to adopt? For to give currency to the whole, would, in point of fact, annihilate them entirely; seeing, that no two of themrun in unison with each other. This granted, the priests, that is tosay, men extremely suspicious, but little in harmony with each other, will be the arbiters of morality; they will decide (according to theirown uncertain knowledge, after their various passions, in conformity tothe different perspectives under which they view these things, ) on thewhole system of ethics; upon which absolutely rests the repose of theworld--the sterling happiness of each individual. Would this be adesirable state? would it be that from which humanity has the bestfounded prospect of that felicity, which is the desired object of hisresearch? Again; do we not see that either enthusiasm or interest is theonly standard of their decisions? that their morals are as variable astheir caprice? those who listen to them, very rarely discover to whatline they will adhere. In their various writings, we have evidence ofthe most bitter animosities; we find continual contradictions; endlessdisputes upon what they themselves acknowledge to be the most essentialpoints; upon those premises, in the substantive proof of which theirwhole system depends; the very beings they depict as their source oftheir various creeds, are pourtrayed as variable as themselves; asfrequently changing their plans as these are their arguments. Whatresults from all this to a rational man? It will be natural for him toconclude, that neither inconstant gods, nor vacillating priests, whoseopinions are more fluctuating than the seasons, can be the proper modelsof a moral system, which should be as regular, as determinate, asinvariable as the laws of nature herself; as that eternal march, fromwhich we never see her derogate. 

No! Arbitrary, inconclusive, contradictory notions, abstract, unintelligible speculations, can never be the sterling bases of theethical science! They must be evident, demonstrable principles, deducedfrom the nature of man, founded upon his wants, inspired by rationaleducation, rendered familiar by habit, made sacred by wholesome laws, that will flash conviction on our mind, render systems useful tomankind, make virtue dear to us--that will people nations with honestmen--fill up the ranks with faithful subjects--crowd them with intrepidcitizens. Incomprehensible beings can present nothing to ourimagination, save vague ideas, which will never embrace any common pointof union amongst those who shall contemplate them. If these beings arepainted as terrible, the mind is led astray; if changeable, it alwaysprecludes us from ascertaining the road we ought to pursue. The menacesheld forth by those, who, in despite of their own assertions, say theyare acquainted with the views, with the determination of these beings, will seldom do more than render virtue unpleasant; fear alone will thenmake us practise with reluctance, that which reason, which our ownimmediate interest, ought to make us execute with pleasure. Theinculcation of terrible ideas will only serve to disturb honest persons, without in the least arresting the progress of the profligate, ordiverting the course of the flagitious: the greater number of men, whenthey shall be disposed to sin, to deliver themselves up to viciouspropensities, will cease to contemplate these terrific ideas, will onlybehold a merciful God, who is filled with goodness, who will pardon thetransgressions of their weakness. Man never views things but on thatside which is most conformable to his desires. 

The goodness of God cheers the wicked; his rigour disturbs the honestman. Thus, the qualities with which theology clothes its immaterialsubstances, themselves turn out disadvantageous to sound morality. It isupon this infinite goodness that the most corrupt men will have theaudacity to reckon, when they are either hurried along by crime, orgiven up to habitual vice. If, then, they are reminded of their criminalcourses, they reply, "God is good, his mercy is infinite, his clemencyboundless:" thus it may be said that religion itself is pressed into theservice of vice, by the children of turpitude. Superstition, above all, rather abets crime than represses it, by holding forth to mortals thatby the assistance of certain ceremonies, the performance of certainrites, the repetition of certain prayers, aided by the payment ofcertain sums of money, they can appease the anger of their gods, assuagethe wrath of heaven, wash out the stains of their sins, and be receivedwith open arms into the happy number of the elect--be placed in theblissful abodes of eternity. In short, do not the priests ofsuperstition universally affirm, that they possess infallible secrets, for reconciling the most perverse to the pale of their respectivesystems?

It must be concluded from this, that however these systems are viewed, in whatever manner they are considered, they cannot serve for the basisof morality, which in its very nature is formed to be invariably thesame. Irascible systems are only useful to those who find an interest interrifying the ignorance of mankind, that they may advantage themselvesof his fears--profit by his expiations. The nobles of the earth, who arefrequently men not gifted with the most exemplary morals--who do not onall occasions exhibit the most perfect specimens of self-denial--whowould not, perhaps, be at all times held up as mirrors of virtue, willnot see these formidable systems, when they shall be inclined to listento their passions; to lend themselves to the indulgence of their unrulydesires: they will, however, feel no repugnance to make use of them tofrighten others, to the end that they may preserve unimpaired theirsuperiority; that they may keep entire their prerogatives; that they maymore effectually bind them to servitude. Like the rest of mankind, theywill see their God under the traits of his benevolence; they will alwaysbelieve him indulgent to those outrages they may commit against theirfellows, provided they shew due respect for him themselves: superstitionwill furnish them with easy means to turn aside his Wrath; its ministersseldom omit a profitable opportunity, to expiate the crimes of humannature. 

Morality is not made to follow the caprices of the imagination, the furyof the passions, the fluctuating interests of men: it ought to possessstability; to be at all times the same, for all the individuals of thehuman race; it ought neither to vary in one country, nor in one racefrom another: neither superstition nor religion, has a privilege to makeits immutability subservient to the changeable laws of their systems. There is but one method to give ethics this solidity; it has been morethan once pointed out in the course of this work: it is only to befounded upon the nature of man, bottomed upon his duties, rested uponthe relations subsisting between intelligent beings, who are in love, with their happiness, who are occupied with their own preservation, wholive together in society that they may With greater facility ascertainthese ends. In short we must take for the basis of morality thenecessity of things. 

In weighing these principles, which are self evident, confirmed byconstant experience, approved by reason, drawn from nature herself, weshall have an undeviating tone of conduct; a sure system of morality, that will never be in contradiction with itself. Man will have nooccasion to recur to theological speculations to regulate his conduct inthe visible world. We shall then be capacitated to reply to those whopretend that without them there can he no morality. If we reflect uponthe long tissue of errors, upon the immense chain of wanderings, thatflow from the obscure notions these various systems hold forth--of thesinister ideas which superstition in all countries inculcates; it wouldbe much more conformable to truth to say, that all sound ethics, allmorality, either useful to individuals or beneficial to society, istotally incompatible with systems which never represent their gods butunder the form of absolute monarchs, whose good qualities arecontinually eclipsed by dangerous caprices. Consequently, we shall beobliged to acknowledge, that to establish morality upon a steadyfoundation, we must necessarily commence by at least quitting thosechimerical systems upon which the ruinous edifice of supernaturalmorality has hitherto been constructed, which during such a number ofages, has been so uselessly preached up to a great portion of theinhabitants of the earth. 

Whatever may have been the cause that placed man in his present abode, that gave him the faculties he possesses; whether the human species beconsidered as the work of nature, or whether it be supposed that he oweshis existence to an intelligent being, distinguished from nature; theexistence of man, such as he is, is a fact; we behold in him a being whothinks, who feels, who has intelligence, who loves himself, who tends tohis own conservation, who in every moment of his duration strives torender his existence agreeable; who, the more easily to satisfy hiswants and to procure himself pleasure, congregates in society withbeings similar to himself; of whom his conduct can either conciliate thefavour, or draw upon him the disaffection. It is, then, upon thesegeneral sentiments, inherent in his nature, which will subsist as longas his race shall endure, that we ought to found morality; which is onlya science embracing, the duties of men living together in society. 

These duties have their spring in our nature, they are founded upon ournecessities, because we cannot reach the goal of happiness, if we do notemploy the requisite means: these means constitute the moral science. Tobe permanently felicitous, we must so comport ourselves as to merit theaffection, so act as to secure the assistance of those, beings with whomwe are associated; these will only accord us their love, lend us theiresteem, aid us in our projects, labour to our peculiar happiness, but inproportion as our own exertions shall be employed for their advantage. It is this necessity, flowing naturally out of the relations of mankind, that is called MORAL OBLIGATION. It is founded upon reflection, restedupon those motives competent to determine sensible, intelligent beings, to pursue that line of conduct, which in best calculated to achieve thathappiness towards which they are continually verging. These motives inthe human species, never can be other than the desire, alwaysregenerating, of procuring good and avoiding evil. Pleasure and pain, the hope of happiness, or the fear of misery, are the only motivessuitable to have an efficacious influence on the volition of sensiblebeings. To impel them towards this end, it is sufficient these motivesexist and be understood to have a knowledge of them, it is onlyrequisite to consider our own constitution: according to this, we shallfind we can only love those actions, approve that conduct, from whenceresult actual and reciprocal utility; this constitutes VIRTUE. Inconsequence, to conserve ourselves, to make our own happiness, to enjoysecurity, we are compelled to follow the routine which conducts to thisend; to interest others in our own preservation, we are obliged todisplay an interest in theirs; we must do nothing that can have atendency to interrupt that mutual co-operation which alone can lead tothe felicity desired. Such is the true establishment of moralobligation. 

Whenever it is attempted to give any other basis to morality than thenature of man, we shall always deceive ourselves; none other can havethe least stability; none can be more solid. Some authors, even of greatintegrity, have thought, that to give ethics more respectability in theeyes of man, to render more inviolable those duties which his natureimposes on him, it was needful to clothe them with the authority of abeing whom they have made superior to nature--whom they have renderedmore powerful than necessity. Theology, seizing on these ideas, with itsown general want of just inference, has in consequence invaded morality;has endeavoured to connect it with its various systems. By some it hasbeen imagined, this union would render virtue more sacred; that the fearattached to invisible powers, who govern nature, would lend more weight, would give more efficacy to its laws; in short, it has been believedthat man, persuaded, of the necessity of the moral system, seeing itunited with superstition, would contemplate superstition itself asnecessary to his happiness. Indeed it is the supposition that thesesystems are essential to morality, that sustains the theological ideas--that gives permanency to the greater part of all the creeds on earth; itis erroneously imagined that without them man would neither understandnor practise the duties he owes to others. This prejudice onceestablished, gives currency to the opinion that the vague ideas growingout of these systems are in such a manner connected with morality, areso linked with the actual welfare of society, that they cannot beattacked without overturning the social duties that bind man to hisfellow. It is thought that the reciprocity of wants, the desire ofhappiness, the evident interests of the community, would be mereskeleton motives, devoid of all active energy, if they did not borrowtheir substance from these various systems; if they were not investedwith the force derived from these numerous creeds; if they were notclothed with the sanction of those ideas which have been made thearbiters of all things. 

Nothing, however, is more borne out by the evidence of experience, nothing has more thoroughly impressed itself on the minds of reflectingmen, than the danger always arising from connecting truth with fiction;the known with the unknown; the delirium of enthusiasm, with thetranquillity of reason. Indeed what has resulted from the confusedalliance, from the marvellous speculations, which theology has made withthe most substantive realities? of mixing up its evanescent conjectureswith the confirmed aphorisms of time? The imagination bewildered, hasmistaken truth: superstition, by aid of its gratuitous suppositions, hascommanded nature--made reason bow, under its bulky yoke, --submitted manto its own peculiar caprices; very frequently in the name of its godsobliged him to stifle his nature, to piously violate the most sacredduties of morality. When these superstitions have been desirous ofrestraining mortals whom they had previously hood-winked, whom they hadrendered irrational, it gave them only ideal curbs, imaginary motives;it substituted unsubstantial causes, for those which were substantive;marvellous supernatural powers, for those which were natural, and wellunderstood; it supplied actual realities, by ideal romances andvisionary fables. By this inversion of principle, morality had no longerany fixed basis: nature, reason, virtue, demonstration, were laidprostrate before the most undefinable systems; were made to depend uponoracular promulgations, which never spake distinctly; indeed, theygenerally silenced reason, were often delivered by fanatics, which timeproved to be impostors; by those who, always adopting the appellation ofinspired beings, gave forth nothing but the wanderings of their owndelirium, or else were desirous of profiting by the errors which theythemselves instilled into mankind. Thus these men became deeplyinterested in preaching abject submission, non-resistance, passive-obedience, factitious virtues, frivolous ceremonies; in short, anarbitrary morality, conformable to their own reigning passions;frequently prejudicial to the rest of the human race. 

It was thus, in making ethics flow from these various systems, they inpoint of fact submitted it to the dominant passions of men, who had adirect interest in moulding it to their own advantage. In being disposedto found it upon undemonstrated theories, they founded it upon nothing;in deriving it from imaginary sources, of which each individual forms tohimself his own notion, generally adverse to that of his neighbour; inresting it upon obscure oracles, always delivered ambiguously, frequently interpreted by men in the height of delirium, sometimes byknaves, who had immediate interests to promote, they rendered itunsteady--devoid of fixed principle, --too frequently left it to themercy of the most crafty of mankind. In proposing to man the changeablecreeds of the theologians for a model, they weakened the moral system ofhuman actions; frequently annihilated that which was furnished bynature; often substituted in its place nothing but the most perplexingincertitude; the most ruinous inconsistency. These systems, by thequalities which are ascribed, to them, become inexplicable enigmas, which each expounds as best suits himself; which each explains after hisown peculiar mode of thinking; in which the theologian ever finds thatwhich most harmonizes with his designs; which he can bend to his ownsinister purposes; which he offers as irrefragible evidence of therectitude of those actions, which at bottom have nothing but his ownadvantage in view. If they exhort the gentle, indulgent, equitable man, to be good, compassionate, benevolent; they equally excite the furious, who is destitute of these qualities, to be intolerant, inhuman, pitiless. The morality of these systems varies in each individual;differs in one country from another; in fact, those actions which somemen look upon as sacred, which they have learned to considermeritorious, make others shudder with horror--fill them with the mostpainful recollections. Some see the Divinity filled with gentleness andmercy; others behold him as full of wrath and fury, whose anger is to beassuaged by the commission of the most shocking cruelties. 

The morality of nature is clear, it is evident even to those who outrageit. It is not thus with superstitious morality; this is as obscure asthe systems which prescribe it; or rather as fluctuating as thepassions, as changeable as the temperaments, of those who expound them;if it was left to the theologians, ethics ought to be considered as thescience of all others the most problematical, the most unsteady, themost difficult to bring to a point; it would require the most profound, penetrating genius, the most active, vigorous mind, to discover theprinciples of those duties man owes to himself, that he ought toexercise towards others; this would render the sources of the moralsystem attainable by a very small number of individuals; wouldeffectually lock them up in the cabinets of the metaphysicians; placethem under the treacherous guardianship of priests: to derive it fromthose systems, which are in themselves undefinable, with the foundationsof which no one is actually acquainted, which each contemplates afterhis own mode, modifies after his own peculiar ideas, is at once tosubmit it to the caprice of every individual; it is completely toacknowledge, we know not from whence it is derived, nor whence it hasits principles. Whatever may be the agent upon whom they make nature, orthe beings she contains, to depend; with whatever power they way supposehim invested, it is very certain that man either does, or does notexist; but as soon as his existence is acknowledged, as soon as it isadmitted to be what it actually is, when he shall be allowed to be asensible being living in society, in love with his own felicity, theycannot without either annihilating him, or new modelling him, cause himto exist otherwise than he does. Therefore, according to his actualessence, agreeable to his absolute qualities, conformable to thosemodifications which constitute him a being, of the human species, morality becomes necessary to him, and the desire of conserving himselfwill make him prefer virtue to vice, by the same necessity that heprefers pleasure to pain. If, following up the doctrine of thetheologians, "that man hath occasion for supernatural grace to enablehim to do good, " it must be very injurious to sound principles ofmorality; because he will always wait for "the call from above, " toexercise that virtue, which is indispensable to his welfare. Tertullian, nevertheless says expressly, "wherefore will ye trouble yourselves, seeking after the law of God, whilst ye have that which is common to allthe world, and which is written on the tablets of nature?"

To say, that man cannot possess any moral sentiments without embracingthe discordant systems offered to his acceptance, is, in point of fact, saying, that he cannot distinguish virtue from vice; it is to pretendthat without these systems, man would not feel the necessity of eatingto live, would not make the least distinction, would be absolutelywithout choice in his food: it is to pretend, that unless he is fullyacquainted with the name, character, and qualities of the individual whoprepares a mess for him, he is not competent to discriminate whetherthis mess be agreeable or disagreeable, good or bad. He who does notfeel himself satisfied what opinions to adopt, upon the foundation andmoral attributes of these systems, or who even formally denies them, cannot at least doubt his own existence-his own functions--his ownqualities--his own mode of feeling--his own method of judging; neithercan he doubt the existence of other organized beings similar to himself;in whom every thing discovers to him qualities analogous with his own;of whom he can, by certain actions, either gain the love or incur thehatred--secure the assistance or attract the ill-will--merit the esteemor elicit the contempt; this knowledge is sufficient to enable him todistinguish moral good and evil. In short, every man enjoying a well-ordered organization, possessing the faculty of making true experience, will only need to contemplate himself in order to discover what he owesto others: his own nature will enlighten him much more effectually uponhis duties, than those systems in which he will consult either his ownunruly passions, those of some enthusiast, or those of an impostor. Hewill allow, that to conserve himself, to secure his own permanentwelfare, he is frequently obliged to resist the blind impulse of his owndesires; that to conciliate the benevolence of others, he must act in amode conformable to their advantage; in reasoning thus, he will find outwhat virtue actually is; if he puts his theory into practice, he will bevirtuous; he will be rewarded for his conduct by the harmony of his ownmachine; by the legitimate esteem of himself, confirmed by the goodopinion of others, whose kindness he will have secured: if he acts in acontrary mode, the trouble that will ensue, the disorder of his frame, will quickly warn him that nature, thwarted by his actions, disapproveshis conduct, which is injurious to himself; to which he will be obligedto add the condemnation of others, who will hate him. If the wanderingsof his mind prevent him from seeing the more immediate consequences ofhis irregularities, neither will he perceive the distant rewards, theremote punishments, which these systems hold forth; because they willnever speak to him so distinctly as his conscience, which will eitherreward or punish him on the spot. Theology has never yet known how togive a true definition of virtue: according to it, it is an effort ofgrace, that disposes man to do that which is agreeable to the Divinity. But what is this grace? How doth it act upon man? How shall we know whatis agreeable to a Divinity who is incomprehensible to all men?

Every thing that has been advanced evidently proves, that superstitiousmorality is an infinite loser when compared with the morality of nature, with which, indeed, it is found in perpetual contradiction. Natureinvites man to love himself, to preserve his existence, to incessantlyaugment the sum of his happiness: superstition teaches him to be in loveonly with formidable doctrines, calculated to generate his dislike; todetest himself; to sacrifice to his idols his most pleasing sensations--the most legitimate pleasures of his heart. Nature counsels man toconsult reason, to adopt it for his guide; superstition pourtrays thisreason as corrupted, as a treacherous director, that will infalliblylead him astray. Nature warns him to enlighten his understanding, tosearch after truth, to inform himself of his duties; superstitionenjoins him not to examine any thing, to remain in ignorance, to feartruth; it persuades him there are no relations so important to hisinterest, as those which subsist between himself and systems which hecan never understand. Nature tells the being who is in love with hiswelfare, to moderate his passions, to resist them when they are founddestructive to himself, to counteract them by substantive motivescollected from experience; superstition desires a sensible being to haveno passions, to be an insensible mass, or else to combat hispropensities by motives borrowed from the imagination, which are asvariable as itself. Nature exhorts man to be sociable, to love hisfellow creatures, to be just, peaceable, indulgent, benevolent, topermit his associates to freely enjoy their opinions; superstitionadmonishes him to fly society, to detach himself from his fellowmortals, to hate them when their imagination does not procure themdreams conformable to his own; to break through the most sacred bonds, to maintain his own opinions, or to frustrate those of his neighbour; totorment, to persecute, to massacre, those who will not be mad after hisown peculiar manner. Nature exacts that man in society should cherishglory, labour to render himself estimable, endeavour to establish animperishable name, to be active, courageous, industrious; superstitiontells him to be abject, pusillanimous, to live in obscurity, to occupyhimself with ceremonies; it says to him, be useless to thyself, and donothing for others. Nature proposes to the citizen, for his model, menendued with honest, noble, energetic souls, who have usefully servedtheir fellow citizens; superstition recommends to his imitation mean, cringing sycophants; extols pious enthusiasts, frantic penitents, zealous fanatics, who for the most ridiculous opinions have disturbedthe tranquility of empires. Nature urges the husband to be tender, toattach himself to the company of his mate, to cherish her in his bosom;superstition makes a crime of his susceptibility, frequently obliges himto look upon the conjugal bonds as a state of pollution, as theoffspring of imperfection. Nature calls to the father to nurture hischildren, to cherish their affection, to make them useful members ofsociety; superstition advises him to rear them in fear of its systems, to hoodwink them, to make them superstitious, which renders themincapable of actually serving society, but extremely well calculated todisturb its repose. Nature cries out to children to honor their parents, to listen to their admonitions, to be the support of their old age;superstition says, prefer the oracles; in support of the systems ofwhich you are an admitted member, trample father and mother under yourfeet. Nature holds out to the philosopher that he should occupy himselfwith useful objects, consecrate his cares to his country, makeadvantageous discoveries, suitable to perfect the condition of mankind;superstition saith, occupy thyself with useless reveries; employ thytime in endless dispute; scatter about with a lavish hand the seeds ofdiscord, calculated to induce the carnage of thy fellows; obstinatelymaintain opinions which thou thyself canst never understand. Naturepoints out to the perverse man, that he should blush for his vices, thathe should feel sorrow for his disgraceful propensities, that he shouldbe ashamed of crime; it shews him, that his most secret irregularitieswill necessarily have an influence over his own felicity; superstitioncrieth to the most corrupt men, to the most flagitious mortals, "do notirritate the gods, whom thou knowest not; but if, peradventure, againsttheir express command, thou dost deliver thyself up to crime, rememberthat their mercy is infinite, that their compassion endureth for ever, that therefore they may be easily appeased; thou hast nothing more to dothan to go into their temples, prostrate thyself before their altars, humiliate thyself at the feet of their ministers; expiate thytransgressions by largesses, by sacrifices, by offerings, by ceremonies, and by prayer; these things done with a willing spirit, and a contriteheart, will pacify thine own conscience, and cleanse thee in the eyes ofheaven. "

The rights of the citizen, or the man in society, are not less injuredby superstition, which is always in contradiction with sound politics. Nature says distinctly to man, "thou art free; no power on earth canjustly deprive thee of thy rights, without thine own consent; and eventhen, thou canst not legitimately make thyself a slave to thy like. "Superstition tells him he is a slave, condemned to groan all his lifeunder the iron rod of the representatives of its system. Nature commandsman to love the country which gave him birth, to serve it faithfully, toblend his interests with it, to unite against all those who shallattempt to injure it; superstition generally orders him to obey withoutmurmur the tyrants who oppress it, to serve them against its bestinterests, to merit their favors by contributing to enslave their fellowcitizens to their ungovernable caprices: notwithstanding these generalorders, if the sovereign be not sufficiently devoted to the priest, superstition quickly changes its language, it then calls upon subjectsto become rebels; it makes it a duty in them to resist their masters; itcries out to them, "it is better to obey the gods than men. " Natureacquaints princes that they are men: that it is not by their capriciouswhims that they can decide what is just; that it is not their waywardhumours that can mark what is unjust; that the public will maketh thelaw. Superstition often insinuates to them that they are gods, to whomnothing in this world ought to offer resistance; sometimes, indeed, ittransforms them into tyrants, whom enraged heaven is desirous should beimmolated to its wrath. 

Superstition corrupts princes; these corrupt the law, which, likethemselves, becomes unjust; from thence institutions are perverted;education only forms men who are worthless, blinded with prejudice, smitten with vain objects, enamoured of wealth, devoted to pleasures, which they must obtain by iniquitous means: thus nature, mistaken, isdisdained; virtue is only a shadow quickly sacrificed to the slightestinterest, while superstition, far from remedying these evils to which ithas given birth, does nothing more than render them still moreinveterate; or else engenders sterile regrets which it presentlyeffaces: thus, by its operation, man is obliged to yield to the force ofhabit, to the general example, to the stream of those propensities, tothose causes of confusion, which conspire to hurry all his species, whoare not willing to renounce their own welfare, on to the commission ofcrime. 

Here is the mode by which superstition, united with politics, exerttheir efforts to pervert, abuse, and poison the heart of man; thegenerality of human institutions appear to have only for their object toabase the human character, to render it more flagitiously wicked. Do notthen let us be at all astonished if morality is almost every where abarren speculation, from which every one is obliged to deviate inpractice, if he will not risk the rendering himself unhappy. Men canonly have sound morals, when, renouncing his prejudices, he consults hisnature; but the continued impulse which his soul is every momentreceiving, on the part of more powerful motives, quickly compels him toforget those ethical rules which nature points out to him. He iscontinually floating between vice and virtue; we behold him unceasinglyin contradiction with himself; if, sometimes, he justly appreciates thevalue of an honest, upright conduct, experience very soon shews him, that this cannot lead him to any thing, which he has been taught todesire, on the contrary, that it may be an invincible obstacle to thehappiness which his heart never ceases for an instant to search after. In corrupt societies it is necessary to become corrupt, in order tobecome happy. 

Citizens, led astray at the same time both by their spiritual andtemporal guides, neither knew reason nor virtue. The slaves both oftheir superstitious systems, and of men like themselves, they had allthe vices attached to slavery; kept in a perpetual state of infancy, they had neither knowledge nor principles; those who preached virtue tothem, knew nothing of it themselves, and could not undeceive them withrespect to those baubles in which they had learned to make theirhappiness consist. In vain they cried out to them to stifle thosepassions which every thing conspired to unloose: in vain they made thethunder of the gods roll to intimidate men whose tumultuous passionsrendered them deaf. It was soon discovered that the gods of the heavenswere much less feared than those of the earth; that the favour of thelatter procured a much more substantive welfare than the promises of theformer; that the riches of this world were more tangible than thetreasures reserved for favorites in the next; that it was much moreadvantageous for men to conform themselves to the views of visiblepowers than to those of powers who were not within the compass of theirvisual faculties. 

Thus society, corrupted by its priests, guided by their caprice, couldonly bring forth a corrupt offspring. It gave birth to avaricious, ambitious, jealous, dissolute citizens, who never saw any thing happybut crime; who beheld meanness rewarded; incapacity honoured; wealthadored; debauchery held in esteem; who almost every where found talentsdiscouraged; virtue neglected; truth proscribed; elevation of soulcrushed; justice trodden under foot; moderation languishing in misery;liberality of mind obligated to groan under the ponderous bulk ofhaughty injustice. 

In the midst of this disorder, in this confusion of ideas, the preceptsof morality could only be vague declamations, incapable of convincingany one. What barrier could superstition, with its imaginary motives, oppose to the general corruption? When it spake reason, it could not beheard; its gods themselves were not sufficiently powerful to resist thetorrent; its menaces failed of effect, on those hearts which every thinghurried along to crime; its distant promises could not counterbalancepresent advantages; its expiations, always ready to cleanse mortals fromtheir sins, emboldened them to persevere in their criminal pursuits; itsfrivolous ceremonies calmed their consciences; its zeal, its disputes, its caprices, only multiplied the evils, with which society found itselfafflicted; only gave them an inveteracy that rendered them more widelymischievous; in short, in the most vitiated nations there was amultitude of devotees, and but very few honest men. Great and smalllistened to the doctrines of superstition, when they appeared favorableto their dominant passions; when they were desirous to counteract them, they listened no longer. Whenever superstition was conformable tomorality, it appeared incommodious, it was only followed when it eithercombatted ethics or destroyed them. The despot himself found itmarvellous, when it assured him he was a god upon earth; that hissubjects were born to adore him alone, to administer to his phantasms. He neglected it when it told him to be just; from thence he saw it wasin contradiction with itself, that it was useless to preach equity to adeified mortal; besides, he was assured the gods would pardon everything, as soon as he should consent to recur to his priests, alwaysready to reconcile them; the most wicked of their subjects reckoned inthe same manner upon their divine assistance: thus superstition, farfrom restraining vice, assured its impunity; its menaces could notdestroy the effects which its unworthy flattery had produced in princes;these same menaces could not annihilate the hope which its expiationshad furnished to all. Sovereigns, either inflated with pride, or alwaysconfident of washing out their crimes by timely sacrifices, no longeractually feared their gods; become gods themselves, they believed theywere permitted any thing against poor pitiful mortals, whom they nolonger considered under any other light than as playthings destined fortheir earthly amusement. 

If the nature of man was consulted in his politics which supernaturalideas have so woefully depraved, it would completely rectify those falsenotions that are entertained equally by sovereigns and by subjects; itwould contribute more amply than all the superstitions existing, torender society happy, powerful, and flourishing under rationalauthority. Nature would teach man, it is for the purpose of enjoying agreater portion of happiness, that mortals live together in society;that it is its own preservation, its own immediate felicity, thatsociety should have for its determinate, unchangeable object: thatwithout equity, a nation only resembles a congregation of enemies; thathis most cruel foe, is the man who deceives him in order that he mayenslave him; that the scourges most to be feared, are those priests whocorrupt his chiefs, who, in the name of the gods assure them of impunityfor their crimes: she would prove to him that association is amisfortune under unjust, negligent, destructive governments. 

This nature, interrogated by princes, would teach them they are men andnot gods; that their power is only derived from the consent of othermen; that they themselves are citizens, charged by other citizens, withthe care of watching over the safety of the whole; that the law ought tobe only the expression of the public will; that it is never permittedthem to counteract nature, or to thwart the invariable end of society. This nature would make monarchs feel, that to be truly great, to bedecidedly powerful, they ought to command elevated, virtuous souls; notminds degraded by despotism, vitiated by superstition. This nature wouldteach sovereigns, that in order to be cherished by their subjects, theyought to afford them succour; to cause them to enjoy those benefitswhich their wants render imperative, that they should at all timesmaintain them, inviolably, in the possession of their rights, of whichthey are the appointed defenders--of which they are the constitutedguardians. This nature would prove to all those princes who should deignto consult her, that it is only by good actions, by kindness, they caneither merit the love, or secure the attachment of the people; thatoppression does nothing more than raise up enemies against them; thatviolence only makes their power unsteady; that force, however brutallyused, cannot confer on them any legitimate right; that beingsessentially in love with happiness, must sooner or later finish byrevolting against an authority that establishes itself by injustice;that only makes itself felt by the outrage it commits: this is themanner in which nature, the sovereign of all beings, in whose system allare equal, would speak to one of these superb monarchs, whom flatteryhas deified:--"Untoward, headstrong child! Pigmy, so proud of commandingpigmies! Have they then assured thee that thou art a god? Have theyflattered thee that thou art something supernatural? Know there isnothing superior to myself. Contemplate thine own insignificance, acknowledge thine impotence against the slightest of my blows. I canbreak thy sceptre; I can take away thine existence; I can level thythrone with the dust; I can scatter thy people; I can destroy even theearth which thou inhabitest; and yet thou hast the folly to believe thouart a god. Be then, again, thyself; honestly avow that thou art a man, formed to submit to my laws equally with the meanest of thy subjects. Learn then, and never let it escape thy memory, that thou art the man ofthy people; the minister of thy nation; the interpreter of its laws; theexecuter of its will; the fellow-citizen of those whom thou hast theright of commanding, only because they consent to obey thee, in view ofthat well being which thou promisest to procure for them. Reign, then, on these conditions; fulfil thy sacred engagements. Be benevolent: aboveall, equitable. If thou art willing to have thy power assured to thee, never abuse it; let it be circumscribed by the immovable limits ofeternal justice. Be the father of thy people, and they will cherish theeas thy children. But, if unmindful of thy duties, thou neglectest them;if negligent of thine own interest, thou separatest them from those ofthy great family, if thou refusest to thy subjects that happiness whichthou owest them; if, heedless of thy own security, thou armest thyselfagainst them; thou shall be like all tyrants, the slave to gloomy care, the bondman of alarm, the vassal of cruel suspicion: thou wilt becomethe victim to thine own folly. Thy people, reduced to despair, shorn oftheir felicity, will no longer acknowledge thy divine rights. In vain, then, thou wouldst sue for aid to that superstition which hath deifiedthee; it can avail nothing with thy people, whom sharp misery hadrendered deaf; heaven will abandon thee to the fury of those enemies towhich thy frenzy shall have given birth. Superstitious systems caneffect nothing against my irrevocable decrees, which will that man shallever irritate himself against the cause of his sorrows. "

In short, every thing would make known to rational princes, that theyhave no occasion for superstition to be faithfully obeyed on earth; thatall the powers contained in these systems will not sustain them whenthey shall act the tyrant; that their true friends are those whoundeceive the people in their delusions; that their real enemies arethose who intoxicate them with flattery--who harden them in crime--whomake the road to heaven too easy for them--who feed them with fanciful, chimerical doctrines, calculated to make them swerve from those cares, to divert them from those sentiments, which they justly owe to theirnations. 

It is then, I repeat it, only by re-conducting man to nature, that wecan procure him distinct notions, evident opinions, certain knowledge;it is only by shewing him his true relations with his fellows, that wecan place him on the road to happiness. The human mind, blinded bytheology, has scarcely advanced a single step. Man's superstitioussystems have rendered him sceptical on the most demonstrable truths. Superstition, while it pervaded every thing, while it had an universalinfluence, served to corrupt the whole: philosophy, dragged in itstrain, although it swelled its triumphant procession, was no longer anything but an imaginary science: it quitted the real world to plunge intothe sinuosities of the ideal, inconceivable labyrinths of metaphysics;it neglected nature, who spontaneously opened her book to itsexamination, to occupy itself with systems filled with spirits, withinvisible powers, which only served to render all questions moreobscure; which, the more they were probed, the more inexplicable theybecame; which took delight in promulgating that which no one wascompetent to understand. In all difficulties it introduced the Divinity;from thence things only became more and more perplexed, until nothingcould be explained. Theological notions appear only to have beeninvented to put man's reason to flight; to confound his judgment; todeceive his mind; to overturn his clearest ideas in every science. Inthe hands of the theologian, logic, or the art of reasoning, was nothingmore than an unintelligible jargon, calculated to support sophism, tocountenance falsehood, to attempt to prove the most palpablecontradictions. Morality, as we have seen, became wavering anduncertain, because it was founded on ideal systems, never in harmonywith themselves, which, on the contrary, were continually contradictingtheir own most positive assertions. Politics, as we have elsewhere said, were cruelly perverted by the fallacious ideas given to sovereigns oftheir actual rights. Jurisprudence was determinately submitted to thecaprices of superstition, which shackled labour, chained down humanindustry, controuled activity, and fettered the commerce of nations. Every thing, in short, was sacrificed to the immediate interests ofthese theologians: in the place of every rational science, they taughtnothing but an obscure, quarrelsome metaphysics, which but too oftencaused the blood of those unhappy people to flow copiously who wereincapable of understanding its hallucinations. 

Born an enemy to experience, theology, that supernatural science, was aninvincible obstacle to the progress of the natural sciences, as italmost always threw itself in their way. It was not permitted toexperimental philosophy, to natural history, to anatomy, to see anything but through the jaundiced eye of superstition. The most evidentfacts were rejected with disdain, proscribed with horror, when ever theycould not be made to quadrate with the idle hypotheses of superstition. Virgil, the Bishop of Saltzburg, was condemned by the church, for havingdared to maintain the existence of the antipodes; Gallileo suffered themost cruel persecutions, for asserting that the sun did not make itsrevolution round the earth. Descartes was obliged to die in a foreignland. Priests, indeed, have a right to be the enemies to the sciences;the progress of reason must, sooner or later, annihilate superstitiousideas. Nothing that is founded upon nature, that is bottomed upon truth, can ever be lost; while the systems of imaginations, the creeds ofimposture, must be overturned. Theology unceasingly opposed itself tothe happiness of nations--to the progress of the human mind--to usefulresearches--to the freedom of thought; it kept man in ignorance; all hissteps being guided by it, he was no more than a tissue of errors. Indeed, is it resolving a question in natural philosophy, to say that aneffect which excites our surprise, that an unusual phenomenon, that avolcano, a deluge, a hurricane, a comet, &c. Are either signs of divinewrath, or works contrary to the laws of nature? In persuading nations, as it has done, that the calamities, whether physical or moral, whichthey experience, are the effects of the divine anger, or chastisementswhich his power inflicts on them, has it not, in fact, prevented themfrom seeking after remedies for these evils? Would it not have been moreuseful to have studied the nature of things, to have sought in natureherself, or in human industry, for succours against those sorrows withwhich mortals are afflicted, than to attribute the evil which manexperiences to an unknown power, against whose will it cannot besupposed there exists any relief? The study of nature, the search aftertruth, elevates the soul, expands the genius, is calculated to renderman active, to make him courageous. Theological notions appear to havebeen made to debase him, to contract his mind, to plunge him intodespondence. In the place of attributing to the divine vengeance thosewars, those famines, those sterilities, those contagions, that multitudeof calamities, which desolate the earth; would it not have been moreuseful, more consistent with truth, to have shewn man that these evilswere to be ascribed to his own folly, or rather to the unruly passions, to the want of energy, to the tyranny of some princes, who sacrificenations to their frightful delirium? The irrational people, instead ofamusing themselves with expiations for their pretended crimes, seekingto render themselves acceptable to imaginary powers; should they notrather have sought in a more healthy administration, the true means ofavoiding those scourges, to which they were the victims? Natural evilsdemand natural remedies: ought not experience then long since to haveconvinced mortals of the inefficacy of supernatural remedies, ofexpiatory sacrifices, of fastings, of processions, &c. Which almost allthe people of the earth have vainly opposed to the disasters which theyexperienced?

Let us then conclude, that theology with its notions, far from beinguseful to the human species, is the true source of all those sorrowswhich afflict the earth of all those errors by which man is blinded; ofthose prejudices which benumb mankind; of that ignorance which rendershim credulous; of those vices which torment him; of those governmentswhich oppress him. Let us be fully persuaded that those theological, supernatural ideas, with which man is inspired from his infancy, are theactual causes of his habitual folly; are the springs of hissuperstitious quarrels; of his sacred dissensions; of his inhumanpersecutions. Let us, at length, acknowledge, that they are these fatalideas which have obscured morality; corrupted polities; retarded theprogress of the sciences; annihilated happiness; banished peace from thebosom of mankind, Then let it be no longer dissimulated, that all thosecalamities, for which man turns his eyes towards heaven, bathed intears, have their spring in the imaginary systems he has adopted: lethim, therefore, cease to expect relief from them; let him seek innature, let him search in his own energies, those resources, whichsuperstition, deaf to his cries, will never procure for him. Let himconsult the legitimate desires of his heart, and he will find that whichhe oweth to himself, also that which he oweth to others; let him examinehis own essence, let him dive into the aim of society, from thence hewill no longer be a slave; let him consult experience, he will findtruth, and he will discover, that _error can never possible render himhappy. _

CHAP. X. 

_Man can form no Conclusion from the Ideas which are offered him of theDivinity. --Of their want of just Inference. --Of the Inutility of hisConduct. _

It has been already stated, that ideas to be useful, must be foundedupon truth; that experience must at all times demonstrate their justice:if, therefore, as we have proved, the erroneous ideas which man has inalmost all ages formed to himself of the Divinity, far from being ofutility, are prejudicial to morality, to politics, to the happiness ofsociety, to the welfare of the individuals who compose it, in short, tothe progress of the human understanding; reason, and our interest, oughtto make us feel the necessity of banishing from our mind these illusive, futile opinions, which can never do more than confound it--which canonly disturb the tranquillity of our hearts. In vain should we flatterourselves with arriving at the correction of theological notions;erroneous in their principles, they are not susceptible of reform. Underwhatever shape an error presents itself, as soon as man shall attach anundue importance to it, it will, sooner or later, finish by producingconsequences dangerous in proportion to their extent. Besides, theinutility of those researches, which in all ages have been made afterthe true nature of the Divinity, the notions that have hitherto beenentertained, have done little more than throw it into greater obscurity, even to those who have most profoundly meditated on the subject; then, ought not this very inutility to convince us that this subject is notwithin the reach of our capacity that this being will not be betterknown to us, or by our descendants, than it hath been to our ancestors, either the most savage or the most ignorant? The object, which of allothers man has at all times reasoned upon the most, written upon themost, nevertheless remains the least known; far from progressing in hisresearch, time, with the aid of theological ideas, has only rendered itmore impossible to be conceived. If the Divinity be such as dreamingtheology depicts, he must himself be a Divinity who is competent to forman idea of him. We know little of man, we hardly know ourselves, or ourown faculties, yet we are disposed to reason upon a being inaccessibleto our senses. Let us, then, travel in peace over the line described forus by nature, without having a wish to diverge from it, to hunt aftervague systems; let us occupy ourselves with our true happiness; let usprofit of the benefits spread before us; let us labour to multiply them, by diminishing the number of our errors; let us quietly submit to thoseevils we cannot avoid, and not augment them by filling our mind withprejudices calculated to lead us astray. When we shall give it seriousreflection, every thing will clearly prove that the pretended science oftheology is, in truth, nothing but presumptuous ignorance, masked underpompous, unintelligible words. In short, let us terminate unfruitfulresearches; be content at least to acknowledge our invincible ignorance;it will clearly be more substantively advantageous, than an arrogantscience, which has hitherto done little more than sow discord on theearth--affliction in the heart of man. 

In supposing a sovereign intelligence who governs the world; insupposing a Divinity who exacts from his creatures that they should havea knowledge of him, that they should understand his attributes, hiswisdom, his power; who is desirous they should render him homage; itmust be allowed, that no man on earth in this respect completely fulfilsthe views of providence. Indeed, nothing is more demonstrable than theimpossibility in which the theologians find themselves, to form to theirmind any idea whatever of the Divinity. Procopius, the first bishop ofthe Goths, says in the most solemn manner: "I esteem it a very foolishtemerity to be disposed to penetrate into the knowledge of the nature ofGod;" and further on he acknowledges, "that he has nothing more to sayof him, except that he is perfectly good. He who knoweth more, whetherhe be ecclesiastic or layman, has only to tell it. " The weakness, theobscurity of the proofs offered, of the systems attributed to him, themanifest contradictions into which they fall, the sophisms, the beggingof the question, which are employed, evidently prove they are themselvesin the greatest incertitude upon the nature of that being with whom itis their profession to occupy their thoughts: even the author of _A NewView of Society_ acknowledges, "that up to this moment it is, notpossible yet to say which is right or which is wrong: that had any oneof the various opposing systems which until this day have governed theworld, and disunited man from man, been true, without any mixture oferror; that system, very speedily after its public promulgation, wouldhave pervaded society, and compelled all men to have acknowledged itstruth. " But granting that they have a knowledge of this being, that hisessence, his attributes, his systems, were so fully demonstrated tothem, as no longer to leave any doubt in their mind, do the rest of thehuman race enjoy the same advantages? Are they, in fact, in a conditionto be charged with this knowledge? Ingenuously, how many persons are tobe found in the world, who have the leisure, the capacity, thepenetration, necessary to understand what is meant to be designatedunder the name of an immaterial being--of a pure spirit, who movethmatter without being himself matter; who is the motive of all the powersof nature, without being contained in nature--without being able totouch it? Are there, in the most religious societies, many persons whoare competent to follow their spiritual guides, in the subtle proofswhich they adduce in evidence of their creeds, upon which they bottomtheir systems of theology?

Without question very few men are capable of profound, connectedmeditation; the exercise of intense thought is, for the greater number, a species of labour as painful as it is unusual. The people, obliged totoil hard, in order to obtain subsistence, are commonly incapable ofreflection; nobles, men of the world, women, young people, occupied withtheir own immediate affairs, taken up with gratifying their passions, employed in procuring themselves pleasure, as rarely think deeply as theuninformed. There are not, perhaps, two men in an hundred thousand, whohave seriously asked themselves the question, _What it is theyunderstand by the word God?_ Whilst it is extremely rare to find personsto whom the nature of God is a problem. Nevertheless, as we have said, conviction supposes that evidence alone has banished doubt from themind. Where, then, are the web who are convinced of the rectitude ofthese systems? Who are those in whom we shall find the completecertitude of these truths, so important to all? Who are the persons, whohave given themselves an accurate account of the ideas they have formedupon the Divinity, upon his attributes, upon his essence? Alas!throughout the whole world, are only to be seen some speculators, who, by dint of occupying themselves with the idea, have, with great fatuity, believed they have discovered something decisive in the confused, unconnected wanderings of their own imagination; they have, inconsequence, endeavoured to form a whole, which, chimerical as it is, they have accustomed themselves to consider as actually existing: byforce of musing upon it, they have sometimes persuaded themselves they, saw it distinctly; these have not unfrequently succeeded in makingothers believe, their reveries, although they may not have mused upon itquite so much as themselves. 

It is seldom more than hearsay, that the mass of the people adopt eitherthe systems of their fathers, or of their priests: authority, confidence, submission, habit, take place of conviction--supersedeproof; they prostrate themselves before idols, lend themselves todifferent creeds, because their ancestors have taught them to fall down, and worship; but never do they inquire wherefore they bend the knee: itis only because, in times far distant, their legislators, their guides, have imposed it upon them as a duty; these have said, "adore and believethose gods, whom ye cannot comprehend; yield yourselves in this instanceto our profound wisdom; we know more than ye do respecting theDivinity. " But wherefore, it might be inquired, should I take thissystem upon your authority? It is, they will reply, because the godswill have it thus; because they will punish you, if you dare to resist. But are not these gods the thing in question? Nevertheless, man hasalways been satisfied with this circle of errors; the idleness of hismind made him find it most easy to yield to the judgment of others. Allsuperstitions are uniformly founded upon error, established byauthority; equally forbid examination; are equally indisposed to permitthat man should reason upon them; it is power that wills he shouldunconditionally accredit them: they are rested solely upon the influenceof some few men, who pretend to a knowledge of things, which they admitare incomprehensible for all their species; who, at the same time, affirm they are sent as missionaries to announce them to the inhabitantsof the earth: these inconceivable systems, formed in the brain of someenthusiastic persons, have most unquestionably occasion for men toexpound them to their fellows. Man is generally credulous as a childupon those objects which relate to superstition; he is told he mustbelieve them; as he generally understands nothing of the matter, heimagines he runs no risk in joining sentiments with his priest, whom hesupposes has been competent to discover what he himself is not able tocomprehend. The most rational people argue thus: "What shall I do? Whatinterest can so many persons have to deceive?" But, seriously, does thisprove that they do not deceive? They may do it from two motives: eitherbecause they are themselves deceived, or because they have a greatinterest in deceiving. By the confession of the theologians themselves, man is, for the greater part, without _religion_: he has only_superstition_. Superstition, according to them, "is a worship of theDivinity, either badly understood or irrational, " or else, "worshiprendered to a false Divinity. " But where are the people or the clergywho will allow, either that their Divinity is false, or their worshipirrational? How shall it be decided who is right, or who is wrong? It isevident that in this affair great numbers must be wrong. Indeed, Buddaeus, in his _Treatise on Atheism_, tells us, "in order that areligion may be true, not only the object of the worship must be true, but we must also have a just idea of it. He, then, who adoreth Godwithout knowing him, adoreth him in a perverse and corrupt manner, andis generally guilty of superstition. " This granted, would it not be fairto demand of the theologians, if they themselves can boast of having a_just idea_ or real knowledge of the Divinity?

Admit for a moment they have, would it not then be evident, that it isfor the priest, for the inspired, for the metaphysician, that this idea, which is said to be so necessary for the whole human race, isexclusively reserved? If we examine, however, we shall not find anyharmony among the theological notions of these various inspired men, orof that hierarchy which is scattered over the earth: even those who makea profession of the same system, are not in unison upon the leadingpoints. Are they ever contented with the proofs offered by theircolleagues? Do they unanimously subscribe to each other's ideas? Arethey agreed upon the conduct to be adopted; upon the manner ofexplaining their texts; upon the interpretation of the various oracles?Does there exist one country upon the whole earth, where the science oftheology is actually perfectioned?--where the ideas of the Divinity arerendered so clear, as not to admit of cavil? Has this science obtainedany of that steadiness, any of that consistency, any of that uniformity, which is found attached to other branches of human knowledge; even tothe most futile arts, or to those trades which are most despised? Hasthe multitude of subtle distinctions, with which theology in somecountries is filled throughout; have the words spirit, immateriality, incorporeity, predestination, grace, with other ingenious inventions, imagined by sublime thinkers, who during so many ages have succeededeach other, actually had any other effect than to perplex things; torender the whole obscure; decidedly unintelligible? Alas! do, they notoffer practical demonstration, that the science held forth as the mostnecessary to man, has not, hitherto, been able to acquire the leastdegree of stability; has remained in the most determined state ofindecision; has entirely failed in obtaining solidity? For thousands ofyears the most idle dreamers have been relieving each other, meditatingon systems, diving into concealed ways, inventing hypothesis suitable todevelope this important enigma. Their slender success has not at alldiscouraged theological vanity; the priests have always spoken of it asof a thing with which they were most intimately acquainted; they havedisputed with all the pertinancy of demonstrated argument; they havedestroyed each other with the most savage barbarity; yet, notwithstanding, to this moment, this sublime science remains entirelyunauthenticated; almost unexamined. Indeed, if things were coollycontemplated, it would be obvious that these theories are not formed forthe generality of mankind, who for the most part are utterly incompetentto comprehend the aerial subtilities upon which they rest. Who is theman, that understandeth any thing of the fundamental principles of thesesystems? Whose capacity embraces spirituality, immateriality, incorporeity, or the mysteries of which he is every day informed? Arethere many persons who can boast of perfectly understanding the state ofthe question, in those theological disputations, which have frequentlyhad the potency to disturb the repose of mankind? Nevertheless, evenwomen believe themselves obliged to take part in the quarrels excited bythese idle speculators, who are of less actual utility, to society, thanthe meanest artizan. 

Man would, perhaps, have been too happy, if confining himself to thosevisible objects which interest him, he had employed half that energywhich he has wasted in researches after incomprehensible systems, uponperfectioning the real sciences; in giving consistency to his laws; inestablishing his morals upon solid foundations; in spreading a wholesomeeducation among his fellows. He would, unquestionably, have been muchwiser, more fortunate, if he had agreed to let his idle, unemployedguides quarrel among themselves unheeded; if he had permitted them tofathom those depths calculated to astound the mind, to amaze theintellect, without intermeddling with their irrational disputes. But itis the essence of ignorance, to attach great importance to every thingwhich it doth not understand. Human vanity makes the mind bear upagainst difficulties. The more an object eludes our inquiry, the moreefforts we make to compass it; because from thence our pride is spurredon, our curiosity is set afloat, our passions are irritated, and itassumes the character of being highly interesting to us. On the otherhand, the more continued, the more laborious our researches have been, the more importance we attach to either our real or our pretendeddiscoveries; the more we are desirous not to have wasted our time;besides, we are always ready warmly to defend the soundness of our ownjudgment. Do not let us then be surprised at the interest that ignorantpersons have at all times taken in the discoveries of their priests; norat the obstinate pertinacity which they have ever manifested in theirdisputes. Indeed, in combating for his own peculiar system, each onlyfought for the interests of his own vanity, which of all human passionsis the most quickly alarmed, the most calculated to lead man on to thecommission of great follies. 

Theology is truly the vessel of the Danaides. By dint of contradictoryqualities, by means of bold assertions, it has so shackled its ownsystems as to render it impossible they should act. Indeed, when even weshould suppose the existence of these theological systems, the realityof codes so discordant with each other and with themselves, we canconclude nothing from them to authorize the conduct, or sanction themode of worship which they prescribe. If their gods are infinitely good, wherefore should we dread them? If they are infinitely wise, what reasonhave we to disturb ourselves with our condition? If they are omniscient, wherefore inform them of our wants, why fatigue them with our requests?If they are omnipresent, of what use can it be to erect temples to them?If they are lords of all, why make sacrifices to them; why bring themofferings of what already belongs to them? If they are just, upon whatfoundation believe that they will punish those creatures whom they havefilled with imbecility? If their grace works every thing in man, whatreason can there be why he should be rewarded? If they are omnipotent, how can they be offended; how can we resist them? If they are rational, how can the enrage themselves against blind mortals, to whom they haveleft the liberty of acting irrationally? If they are immutable, by whatright shall we pretend to make them change their decrees? If they areinconceivable, wherefore should we occupy ourselves with them? If theknowledge of these systems be the most necessary thing, wherefore arethey not more evident, more consistent, more manifest?

This granted, he who can undeceive himself on the afflicting notions ofthese theories, hath this advantage over the credulous, trembling, superstitious mortal--that he establishes in his heart a momentarytranquility, which, at least, rendereth him happy in this life. If thestudy of nature hath banished from his mind, those chimeras with whichthe superstitions man is infested, he, at least, enjoys a security ofwhich this sees himself deprived. In consulting this nature, his fearsare dissipated, his opinions, whether true or false, acquire asteadiness of character; a calm succeeds the storm, which panic terror, the result of wavering notions, excite in the hearts of all men whooccupy themselves with these systems. If the human soul, cheered byphilosophy, had the boldness to consider things coolly; it would nolonger behold the universe submitted to implacable systems, under whichman is continually trembling. If he was rational, he would perceive thatin committing evil he did not disturb nature; that he either injurethhimself alone, or injures other beings capable of feeling the effects ofhis conduct, from thence he would know the line of his duties; he wouldprefer virtue to vice, for his own permanent repose: he would, for hisown satisfaction, for his own felicity in this world, find himselfdeeply interested in the practice of moral goodness; in rendering virtuehabitual; in making it dear to the feeling of his heart: his ownimmediate welfare would be concerned in avoiding vice, in detestingcrime, during the short season of his abode among intelligent, sensiblebeings, from whom he expects his happiness. By attaching himself tothese rules, he would live contented with his own conduct; he would becherished by those who are capable of feeling the influence of hisactions; he would expect without inquietude the term when his existenceshould have a period; he would have no reason to dread the existencewhich _might_ follow the one he at present enjoys: he would not fear tobe deceived in his reasonings. Guided by demonstration, led gently alongby honesty, he would perceive, that he could have nothing to dread froma beneficent Divinity, who would not punish him for those involuntaryerrors which depend upon the organization, which without his own consenthe has received. 

Such a man so conducting himself, would have nothing to apprehend, whether at the moment of his death, he falls asleep for ever; or whetherthat sleep is only a prelude to another existence, in which he shallfind himself in the presence of his God. Addressing himself to theDivinity, he might with confidence say, "O God! Father, who hath rendered thyself invisible to thy child!Inconceivable, hidden Author of all, whom I could not discover! Pardonme, if my limited understanding hath not been able to know thee, in anature, where every thing hath appeared to me to be necessary! Excuseme, if my sensible heart hath not discerned thine august traits amongthose numerous systems which superstitious mortals tremblingly adore:if, in that assemblage of irreconcileable qualities, with which theimagination hath clothed thee, I could only see a phantom. How could mycoarse eyes perceive thee in nature, in which all my senses have neverbeen able to bring me acquainted but with material beings, with, perishable forms? Could I, by the aid of these senses, discover thyspiritual essence, of which no one could furnish me any idea? Could myfeeble brain, obliged to form its judgments after its own capacity, discern thy plans, measure thy wisdom, conceive thine intelligence, whilst the universe presented to my view a continued mixture of orderand confusion--of good and evil--of formation and destruction? Have Ibeen able to render homage to the justice of thy priests, whilst I sofrequently beheld crime triumphant, virtue in tears? Could I possiblyacknowledge the voice of a being filled with wisdom, in those ambiguous, puerile, contradictory oracles, published in thy name in the differentcountries of the earth I have quitted? If I have not known thy peculiarexistence, it is because I have not known either what thou couldst be, where thou couldst be placed, or the qualities which could be assignedthee. My ignorance is excusable, because it was invincible: my mindcould not bend itself under the authority of men, who acknowledged theywere as little enlightened upon thine essence as myself; who were forever disputing among themselves; who were in harmony only in imperiouslycrying out to me, to sacrifice to them that reason which thou hadstgiven to me; But, oh God! If thou cherishest thy creatures, I also, likethee, have cherished them; I have endeavoured to render them happy, inthe sphere in which I have lived. If thou art the author of reason, Ihave always listened to it--have ever endeavoured to follow it; ifvirtue pleaseth thee, my heart hath always honoured it; I have neverwillingly outraged it: when my powers have permitted me, I have myselfpractised it; I was an affectionate husband, a tender father, a sincerefriend, a faithful subject, a zealous citizen; I have held outconsolation to the afflicted; and if the foibles of my nature have beeneither injurious to myself or incommodious to others, I have not atleast made the unfortunate groan under the weight of my injustice. Ihave not devoured the substance of the poor--I have not seen withoutpity the widow's tears; I have not heard without commiseration the criesof the orphan. If thou didst render man sociable, if thou was disposedthat society should subsist, if thou wast desirous the community mightbe happy, I have been the enemy to all who oppressed him, the decidedfoe to all those who deceived him, in order that they might advantagethemselves of his misfortunes. 

"If I have not thought properly of thee, it is because my understandingcould not conceive thee; if I have spoken ill of thy systems, it isbecause my heart, partaking too much of human nature, revolted againstthe odious portrait under which they depicted thee. My wanderings havebeen the effect of the temperament which thou hast given me; of thecircumstances in which, without my consent, thou hast placed me; ofthose ideas, which in despite of me, have entered into my mind. As thouart good, as thou art just, (as we are assured thou art) thou wilt notpunish me for the wanderings of mine imagination; for faults caused bymy passions, which are the necessary consequence of the organizationwhich I have received from thee. Thus I cannot doubt thy justice, Icannot dread the condition which thou preparest for me. Thy goodnesscannot have permitted that I should incur punishment for inevitableerrors. Thou wouldst rather prevent my being born, than have called meinto the rank of intelligent beings, there to enjoy the fatal liberty ofrendering myself eternally unhappy. "

It is thus that a disciple of nature, who, transported all at once intothe regions of space, should find himself in the presence of his God, would be able to speak, although he should not have been in a conditionto lend himself to all the abstract systems of theology which appear tohave been invented for no other purpose than to overturn in his mind allnatural ideas. This illusory science seems bent an forming its systemsin a manner the most contradictory to human reason; notwithstanding weare obliged to judge in this world according to its dictates; if, however, in the succeeding world, there is nothing conformable to this, what can be of more inutility, than to think of it or reason upon it?Besides, wherefore should we leave it to the judgment of men, who are, themselves, only enabled to act after our manner?

Without a very marked derangement of our organs, our sentiments hardlyever vary upon those objects which either our senses experience, orwhich reason has clearly demonstrated, In whatever circumstances we arefound, we have no doubt either upon the whiteness of snow, the light ofday, or the utility of virtue. It is not so with those objects whichdepend solely upon our imagination--which are not proved to us by theconstant evidence of our senses; we judge of them variously, accordingto the dispositions in which we find ourselves. These dispositionsfluctuate by reason of the involuntary impulse which our organs everyinstant receive, on the part of an infinity of causes, either exteriorto ourselves, or else contained within our own frame. These organs are, without our knowledge, perpetually modified, either relaxed or braced bythe density, more or less, of the atmosphere; by heat and by cold; bydryness and by humidity; by health and by sickness; by the heat of theblood; by the abundance of bile; by the state of the nervous system, &c. These various causes have necessarily an influence upon the momentaryideas, upon the instantaneous thoughts, upon the fleeting opinions ofman, He is, consequently, obliged to see under a great variety of hues, those objects which his imagination presents to him; without it alltimes having the capacity to correct them by experience: to compare themby memory. This, without doubt, is the reason why man is continuallyobliged to view his gods, to contemplate his superstitious systems, under such a diversity of aspects, in different periods of hisexistence. In the moment, when his fibres find themselves disposed to hetremulous, he will be cowardly, pusillanimous; he will think of thesesystems only with fear and trembling. In the moment, when these samefibres shall have more tension, he will possess more firmness, he willthen view these systems with greater coolness. The theologian will callhis pusillanimity, "inward feeling;" "warning from heaven;" "secretinspiration;" but he who knoweth man, will say that this is nothing morethan a mechanical motion, produced by a physical or natural cause. Indeed, it is by a pure physical mechanism, that we can explain all therevolutions that take place in the system, frequently from one minute toanother; all the fluctuations in the opinions of mankind; all thevariations of his judgment: in consequence of which we sometimes see himreasoning justly, sometimes in the most irrational manner. 

This is the mode by which, without recurring to grace, to inspirations, to visions, to supernatural notions, we can render ourselves an accountof that uncertain, that wavering state into which we sometimes beholdpersons fall, when there is a question respecting their superstition, who are otherwise extremely enlightened. Frequently, in despite of allreasoning, momentary dispositions re-conduct them to the prejudices oftheir infancy, upon which on other occasions they appear to be entirelyundeceived. These changes are very apparent, especially underinfirmities, in sickness, or at approach of death. The barometer of theunderstanding is then frequently obliged to fall. Those chimeras whichhe despised, or which in a state of health, he set down at their truevalue, are then realized. He trembles, because his machine is enfeebled;he is irrational because his brain is incapable of fulfilling itsfunctions with exactitude. It is evident these are the actual causes ofthose changes which the priests well know how to make use of againstwhat they call incredulity; from which they draw proofs of the realityof their sublimated opinions. Those conversions, or those alterations, which take place, in the ideas of man, have always their origin in somederangement of his machine; brought on either by chagrin or by someother natural or known cause. 

Submitted to the continual influence of physical causes, our systemsinvariably follow the variations of the body; we reason well when thebody is healthy--when it is soundly constituted; we reason badly whenthe corporeal faculties are deranged; from thence our ideas becomedisconnected, we are no longer equal to the task of associating themwith precision; we are incapable of finding principles, or to draw fromthem just inferences; the brain, in fact, is shaken; we no longercontemplate any thing under its actual point of view. It is a man ofthis kind, who does not see things in frosty weather, under the sametraits as when the season is cloudy, or when it is rainy; he does notview them in the same manner in sorrow as in gaiety; when in company aswhen alone. Good sense suggests to us, that it is when the body issound, when the mind is undisturbed by any mist, that we can reason withaccuracy; this state can furnish us with a general standard, calculatedto regulate our judgment; even to rectify our ideas, when unexpectedcauses shall make them waver. 

If the opinions even of the same individual, are fluctuating, subject tovaccillate, how many changes must they experience in the various beingswho compose the human race? If there do not, perhaps, exist two personswho see a physical object under the same exact form or colour, what muchgreater variety must they not have in their mode of contemplating thosethings which have existence only in their imagination? What an infinityof combinations, what a multitude of ideas, must not minds essentiallydifferent, form to themselves when they endeavour to compose an idealbeing, which each moment of their existence must present to them under adifferent aspect? It would, then, be a most irrational enterprise, toattempt to prescribe to man what he ought to think of superstition, which is entirely under the cognizance of his imagination; for theadmeasurement of which, as we have very frequently repeated, mortalswill never have any common standard. To oppugn the superstitiousopinions of man, is to commence hostilities with his imagination--toattack his fancy--to be at war with his organization--to enter the listswith his habits, which are of themselves sufficient to identify with hisexistence, the most absurd, the most unfounded ideas. The moreimagination man has, the greater enthusiast he will be in matters ofsuperstition; reason will have the less ability to undeceive him in hischimeras. In proportion as his fancy is powerful, these chimerasthemselves will become food necessary to its ardency. In fine, to battlewith the superstitious notions of man, is to combat the passions heusually indulges for the marvellous; it is to assail him on that sidewhere he is least vulnerable; to force him in that position where heunites all his strength--where he keeps the most vigilant guard. Indespite of reason, those persons who have a lively imagination, areperpetually re-conducted to those chimeras which habit renders dear tothem, even when they are found troublesome; although they should provefatal. Thus a tender soul hath occasion for a God that loveth him; thehappy enthusiast needeth a God who rewardeth him; the unfortunatevisionary wants a God who taketh part in his sorrows; the melancholydevotee requireth a God who chastiseth him, who maintaineth him in thattrouble which has become necessary to his diseased organization; thefrantic penitent exacteth a God, who imposes upon him an obligation tobe inhuman towards himself; whilst the furious fanatic would believehimself unhappy, if he was deprived of a God who commanded him to makeothers experience the effect of his inflamed humours, of his unrulypassions. 

He is, without question, a less dangerous enthusiast who feeds himselfwith agreeable illusions, than he whose soul is tormented with odiousspectres. If a placid, tender soul, does not commit ravages in society, a mind agitated by incommodious passions, cannot fall to become, sooneror later, troublesome to his fellow creatures. The God of a Socrates, ora Fenelon, may be suitable to souls as gentle as theirs; but he cannotbe that of a whole nation, in which it is extremely rare men of theirtemper are found: if honest men only view their gods as fitted withbenefits; vicious, restless, inflexible individuals, will give themtheir own peculiar character, from thence will authorize themselves toindulge, a free course to their passions. Each will view his deitieswith eyes only open to his own reigning prejudice; the number of thosewho will paint them as afflicting will always be greater, much more tobe feared, than those who shall delineate them under seducing colors:for one mortal that those ideas will render happy, there will bethousands who will be made miserable; they will, sooner or later, becomean inexhaustible source of contention; a never failing spring ofextravagant folly; they will disturb the mind of the ignorant, over whomimpostors will always gain ascendancy--over whom fanatics will ever havean influence: they will frighten the cowardly, terrify thepussillanimous, whose imbecility will incline them to perfidy, whoseweakness will render them cruel; they will cause the most upright totremble, who, even while practising virtue, will fear incurring thedivine displeasure; but they will not arrest the progress of the wicked, who will easily cast them aside, that they may the more commodiouslydeliver themselves up to crime; or who will even take advantage of theseprinciples, to justify their transgression. In short, in the hands oftyrants, these systems will only serve to crush the liberty of thepeople; will be the pretext for violating, with impunity, all equitablerights. In the hands of priests they will become talismans, suitable tointoxicate the mind; calculated to hoodwink the people; competent tosubjugate equally the sovereign as the subject; in the hands of themultitude, they will be a two-edged sword, with which they will inflict, at the same moment, the most dreadful wounds on themselves--the mostserious injuries on their associates. 

On the other hand, these theological systems, as we have seen, beingonly an heap of contradictions, which represent the Divinity under themost incompatible characters, seem to doubt his wisdom, when they invitemortals to address their prayers to him, for the gratification of theirdesires; to pray to him to grant that which he has not thought it properto accord to them. Is it not, in other words, to accuse him withneglecting his creatures? Is it not to ask him to alter the eternaldecrees of his justice; to change the invariable laws which he hathhimself determined? Is it not to say to him, "O, my God! I acknowledgethy wisdom, thine omniscience, thine infinite goodness; nevertheless, thou forgettest thy servant; thou losest sight of thy creature; thou artignorant, or thou feignest ignorance, of that which he wanteth: dostthou not see that I suffer from the marvellous arrangement, which thywise laws have made in the universe? Nature, against thy commands, actually renders my existence painful: change then, I beseech thee, theessence which thy will has given to all beings. Grant that the elements, at this moment, lose in my favor their distinguishing properties; soorder it, that heavy bodies shall not fall, that fire shall not burn, that the brittle frame which I have received at thine hands, shall notsuffer those shocks which it every instant experiences. Rectify, I praythee, for my happiness, the plan which thine infinite prudence hathmarked out from all eternity. " Such is very nearly the euchology whichman adopts; such are the discordant, absurd requests which hecontinually puts up to the Divinity, whose wisdom he extols; whoseintelligence he holds forth to admiration; whose providence heeulogizes; whose equity he applauds; whilst he is hardly ever contentedwith the effects of the divine perfections. 

Man is not more consequent in those thanksgivings which he believeshimself obliged to offer to the throne of grace. Is it not just, heexclaims, to thank the Divinity for his kindness? Would it not be theheight of ingratitude to refuse our homage to the Author of ourexistence; to withhold our acknowledgements from the Giver of everything that contributes to render it agreeable? But does he notfrequently offer up his thanksgivings for actions that overwhelm hisneighbour with misery? Does not the husbandman on the hill, returnthanks for the rain that irrigates his lands parched with drought, whilst the cultivator of the valley is imploring a cessation of thoseshowers which deluge his fields--that render useless the labour of hishands? Thus each becomes thankful for that which his own limited viewspoints out to him as his immediate interest, regardless of the generaleffect produced by those circumstances on the welfare of his fellows. Each believes that it is either a peculiar dispensation of providence inhis own favor, or a signal of the heavenly wrath directed againsthimself; whilst the slightest reflection would clearly evince it to benothing more than the inevitable order of things, which take placewithout the least regard to his individual comforts. From this it willbe obvious, that these systems do not teach their votaries, practically, to love their neighbour as themselves. But in matters of superstition, mortals never reason; they only follow the impulse of their fears; thedirection of their imagination; the force of their temperament; the bentof their own peculiar passions; or those of the guides, who haveacquired the right of controling their understanding. Fear has generallycreated these systems; terror unceasingly accompanies them; it isimpossible to reason while we tremble. 

We do not, however, flatter ourselves that reason will be capable, allat once, to deliver the human race from those errors with which so manycauses united have contributed to poison him. The vainest of allprojects would be the expectation of curing, in an instant, thoseepidemical follies, those hereditary fallacies, rooted during so manyages; continually fed by ignorance; corroborated by custom; borne alongby the passions made inveterate by interest; grounded upon the fears, established upon the ever regenerating calamities of nations. Theancient disasters of the earth gave birth to the first systems oftheology, new revolutions would equally produce others; even if the oldones should chance to be forgotton. Ignorant, miserable, tremblingbeings, will always either form to themselves systems, or else adoptthose which imposture shall announce--which fanaticism shall be disposedto give them. 

It would therefore be useless to propose more than to hold out reason tothose who are competent to understand it; to present truth to those whocan sustain its lustre; who can with serenity contemplate its refulgentbeauty; to undeceive those who shall not be inclined to oppose obstaclesto demonstration; to enlighten those who shall not desire pertinaciouslyto persist in error. Let us, then, infuse courage into those who wantpower to break with their illusions; let us cheer up the honest man, whois much more alarmed by his fears than the wicked, who, in despite ofhis opinions, always follows the rule of his passions: let us consolethe unfortunate, who groans under a load of prejudices which he has notexamined: let us dissipate the incertitude of those whose doubts renderthem unhappy; who ingenuously seek after truth, but who find inphilosophy itself only wavering opinions little calculated to determinetheir fluctuating minds. Let us banish from the man of genius thosechimerical speculations which cause him to waste his time; let us wresthis gloomy superstition from the intimidated mortal, who, duped by hisvain fears, becomes useless to society; let us remove from theatrabilarious being those systems that afflict him, that exasperate hismind, that do nothing more than kindle his anger against his incredulousneighbour; let us tear from the fanatic those terrible ideas which armhim with poniards against the happiness of his fellows; let us pluckfrom tyrants, let us snatch from impostors, those opinions which enablethem to terrify, to enslave, and to despoil the human species. Inremoving from honest men their formidable notions let us not encouragethose of the wicked, who are the enemies of society; let us deprive thelatter of those illegitimate sources, upon which they reckon to expiatetheir transgressions; let us substitute actual, present terrors, tothose which are distant and uncertain to those which do not arrest themost licentious excesses; let us make the profligate blush at beholdingthemselves what they really are; let the ministers of superstitiontremble at finding their conspiracies discovered; let them dread thearrival of the day, when mortals, cured of those errors with which theyhave abused them, will no longer be enslaved by their artifice. 

If we cannot induce nations to lay aside their inveterate prejudices, let us, at least, endeavour to prevent them from relapsing into thoseexcesses, to the commission of which superstition has so frequentlyhurried them; let mankind form to himself chimeras, if he cannot dowithout them; let him think as he may feel inclined, provided hisreveries do not make him forget that he is a man; that he does not ceaseto remember that a sociable being is not formed to resemble the mostferocious animals. Let us try to balance the fictitious interests ofsuperstition, by the more immediate advantages of the earth. Letsovereigns, as well as their subjects, at length acknowledge that thebenefits resulting from truth, the happiness arising from justice, thetranquillity springing out of wholesome laws, the blessings to bederived from a rational education, the superiority to be obtained from aphysical, peaceable morality, are much more substantive than those theyvainly expect from their respective superstitious systems, Let themfeel, that advantages so tangible, benefits so precious, ought not to besacrificed to uncertain hopes, so frequently contradicted by experience. In order to convince themselves of these truths, let every rational manconsider the numberless crimes which superstition has caused upon ourglobe; let them study the frightful history of theology: let them readover the biography of its more odious ministers, who have too oftenfanned the spirit of discord--kindled the flame of fury--stirred up theraging fire of madness: let the prince and the people, at least, sometimes learn to resist the demoniacal passions of these interpretersof unintelligible systems, which they acknowledge they do not themselvesat all understand, especially when they shall invoke them to be inhuman;when they shall preach up intolerance; when they invite them tobarbarity; above all, when they shall command them, in the name of theirgods, to stifle the cries of nature; to put down the voice of equity; tobe deaf to the remonstrances of reason; to be blind to the interest ofsociety. 

Feeble mortals! led astray by error, how long will ye permit yourimagination, so active, so prompt to seize on the marvellous, tocontinue to seek out of the universe pretexts to render you baneful toyourselves, injurious to the beings with whom ye live in society?Wherefore do ye not follow in peace, the simple, easy route marked outfor ye by nature? To what purpose do ye scatter thorns on the road oflife? What avails it, that ye multiply those sorrows to which yourdestiny exposes ye? What advantages can ye derive from systems withwhich the united efforts of the whole human species have not beencompetent to bring ye acquainted? Be content, then, to remain ignorantof that, which the human mind is not formed to comprehend; which humanintellect is not adequate to embrace: occupy yourselves with truth;learn the invaluable art of living happy; perfection your morals; giverationality to your governments; simplify your laws, and rest them onthe pillars of justice; watch over education, and see that it is of aninvigorating quality; give attention to agriculture, and encouragebeneficial improvements; foster those sciences which are actuallyuseful, and place their professors in the most honorable stations; laborwith ardour, and munificently reward those whose assiduity promotes thegeneral welfare; oblige nature by your industry to open her immensestores, to become propitious to your exertions; do these things, and thegods will oppose nothing to your felicity. Leave to idle thinkers, tosoporific dreamers, to waking visionaries, to useless enthusiasts, theunproductive task, the unfruitful occupation, of fathoming depths, fromwhich ye ought sedulously to divert your attention; enjoy withmoderation, the benefits attached to your present existence; augmenttheir number when reason sanctions the multiplication; but never attemptto spring yourselves forward, beyond the sphere destined for youraction. If you must have chimeras, permit your fellow creatures to havetheirs also; but never cut the throats of your brethren, when, theycannot rave in your own manner. If ye will have unintelligible systems, if ye cannot be contented without marvellous doctrines, if theinfirmities of your nature require an invisible crutch, adopt such asmay best suit with your humour; select those which you may think mostcalculated to support your tottering frame; if ye can, let your ownimagination give birth to them; but do not insist on your neighboursmaking the same choice with yourself: do not suffer these imaginarytheories to infuriate your mind: let them not so far intoxicate yourunderstandings, as to make ye mistake the duties ye owe to the realbeings with whom ye are associated. Always remember, that amongst theseduties, the foremost, the most consequential, the most immediate in itsbearing upon the felicity of the human race, stands, _a reasonableindulgence for the foibles of others_. 

CHAP. XI. 

_Defence of the Sentiments contained in this Work. --Of Impiety. --Dothere exist Atheists?_

What has been said in the course of this work, ought sufficiently toundeceive those who are capable of reasoning on the prejudices to whichthey attached so much importance. But the most evident truths frequentlycrouch under fear; are kept at bay by habit; prove abortive against theforce of enthusiasm. Nothing is more difficult to remove from itsresting place than error, especially when long prescription has given itfull possession of the human mind. It is almost unassailable whensupported by general consent; when it is propagated by education; whenit has acquired inveteracy by custom: it commonly resists every effortto disturb it, when it is either fortified by example, maintained byauthority, nourished by the hopes, or cherished by the fears of apeople, who have learned to look upon these delusions as the most potentremedies for their sorrows. Such are the united forces which sustain theempire of unintelligible systems over the inhabitants of this world;they appear to give stability to their throne; to render their powerimmoveable; to make their reign as lasting as the human race. 

We need not, then, be surprised at seeing the multitude cherish theirown blindness; encourage their superstitious notions; exhibit the mostsensitive fear of truth. Every where we behold mortals obstinatelyattached to phantoms from which they expect their happiness;notwithstanding these fallacies are evidently the source of all theirsorrows. Deeply smitten with the marvellous, disdaining the simple, despising that which is easy of comprehension, but little instructed inthe ways of nature, accustomed to neglect the use of their reason, theuninformed, from age to age, prostrate themselves before those invisiblepowers which they have been taught to adore. To these they address theirmost fervent prayers; implore them in their misfortunes, offer them thefruits of their labour; they are unceasingly occupied either withthanking their vain idols for benefits they have not received at theirbands, or else in requesting from them favors which they can neverobtain. Neither experience nor reflection can undeceive them; they donot perceive these idols, the work of their own hands, have always beendeaf to their intreaties; they ascribe it to their own conduct; believethem to be violently irritated: they tremble, groan out the most dismallamentations; sigh bitterly in their temples; strew their altars withpresents; load their priests with their largesses; it never strikestheir attention that these beings, whom they imagine so powerful, arethemselves submitted to nature; are never propitious to their wishes, but when nature herself is favourable. It is thus that nations are theaccomplices of those who deceive them; are themselves as much opposed totruth as those who lead them astray. 

In matters of superstition, there are very few persons who do notpartake, more or less, of the opinions of the illiterate. Every man whothrows aside the received ideas, is generally considered a madman; islooked upon as a presumptuous being, who insolently believes himselfmuch wiser than his associates. At the magical sound of superstition, asudden panic, a tremulous terror takes possession of the human species:whenever it is attacked, society is alarmed; each individual imagines healready sees the celestial monarch lift his avenging arm against thecountry in which rebellious nature has produced a monster withsufficient temerity to brave these sacred opinions. Even the mostmoderate persons tax with folly, brand with sedition, whoever darescombat with these imaginary systems, the rights of which good sense hasnever yet examined. In consequence, the man who undertakes to tear thebandeau of prejudice, appears an irrational being--a dangerous citizen;his sentence is pronounced with a voice almost unanimous; the publicindignation, roused by fanaticism, stirred up by imposture, renders itimpossible for him to be heard in his defence; every one believeshimself culpable, if he does not exhibit his fury against him; if hedoes not display his zeal in hunting him down; it is by such means manseeks to gain the favor of the angry gods, whose wrath is supposed to beprovoked. Thus the individual who consults his reason, the disciple ofnature, is looked upon as a public pest; the enemy to superstition isregarded as the enemy to the human race; he who would establish alasting peace amongst men, is treated as the disturber of society; theman who would be disposed to cheer affrighted mortals by breaking thoseidols, before whom prejudice has obliged them to tremble, is unanimouslyproscribed as an atheist. At the bare name of atheist the superstitiousman quakes; the deist himself is alarmed; the priest enters thejudgement chair with fury glaring in his eyes; tyranny prepares hisfuneral pile, the vulgar applaud the punishments which irrational, partial laws, decree against the true friend of the human species. 

Such are the sentiments which every man must expect to excite, who shalldare to present his fellow creatures with that truth which all appear tobe in search of, but which all either fear to find, or else mistake whatwe are disposed to shew it to them. But what is this man, who is sofoully calumniated as an atheist? He is one who destroyeth chimerasprejudicial to the human race; who endeavours to re-conduct wanderingmortals back to nature; who is desirous to place them upon the road ofexperience; who is anxious that they should actively employ theirreason. He is a thinker, who, having meditated upon matter, itsenergies, its properties, its modes of acting, hath no occasion toinvent ideal powers, to recur to imaginary systems, in order to explainthe phenomena of the universe--to develope the operations of nature; whoneeds not creatures of the imagination, which far from making him betterunderstand nature, do no more than render it wholly inexplicable, anunintelligible mass, useless to the happiness of mankind. 

Thus, the only men who can have pure, simple, actual ideas of nature, are considered either as absurd or knavish speculators. Those who formto themselves distinct, intelligible notions of the powers of theuniverse, are accused of denying the existence of this power: those whofound every thing that is operated in this world, upon determinate, immutable laws, are accused with attributing every thing to chance; aretaxed with blindness, branded with delirium, by those very enthusiaststhemselves, whose imagination, always wandering in a vacuum, regularlyattribute the effects of nature to fictitious causes, which have noexistence but in their own heated brain; to fanciful beings of their owncreation; to chimerical powers, which they obstinately persist inpreferring to actual, demonstrable causes. No man in his proper sensescan deny the energy of nature, or the existence of a power by virtue ofwhich matter acts; by which it puts itself in motion; but no man can, without renouncing his reason, attribute this power to an immaterialsubstance; to a power placed out of nature; distinguished from matter;having nothing in common with it. Is it not saying, this power does notexist, to pretend that it resides in an unknown being, formed by an heapof unintelligible qualities, of incompatible attributes, from whencenecessarily results a whole, impossible to have existence?Indestructible elements, the atoms of Epicurus, of which it is said themotion, the collision, the combination, have produced all beings, are, unquestionably, much more tangible than the numerous theologicalsystems, broached in various parts of the earth. Thus, to speakprecisely, they are the partizans of imaginary theories, the advocatesof contradictory beings, the defenders of creeds, impossible to beconceived, the contrivers of substances which the human mind cannotembrace on any side, who are either absurd or knavish; thoseenthusiasts, who offer us nothing but vague names, of which every thingis denied, of which nothing is affirmed, are the real _Atheists_; those, I say, who make such beings the authors of motion, the preservers of theuniverse, are either blind or irrational. Are not those dreamers, whoare incapable of attaching any one positive idea to the causes of whichthey unceasingly speak, true deniers? Are not those visionaries, whomake a pure nothing the source of all beings, men really groping in thedark? Is it not the height of folly to personify abstractions, toorganize negative ideas, and then to prostrate ourselves before thefigments of our own brain?

Nevertheless, they are men of this temper who regulate the opinions ofthe world; who hold up to public scorn, those who are consistent toprinciple; who expose to the most infuriate vengeance, those who aremore rational than themselves. If you will but accredit those profounddreamers, there is nothing short of madness, nothing on this side themost complete derangement of intellect, that can reject a totallyincomprehensible motive-power in nature. Is it, then, delirium to preferthe known to the unknown? Is it a crime to consult experience, to callin the evidence of our senses, in the examination of that which we areinformed is the most important to be understood? Is it a horrid outrageto address ourselves to reason; to prefer its oracles to the sublimedecisions of some sophists, who themselves acknowledge they do notcomprehend any thing of the systems they announce? Nevertheless, according to these men, there is no crime more worthy of punishment--there is no enterprize more dangerous to morals--no treason moresubstantive against society, than to despoil these immaterialsubstances, which they know nothing about, of those inconceivablequalities which these learned doctors ascribe to them--of that equipagewith which a fanatical imagination has furnished them--of thosemiraculous properties with which ignorance, fear, and imposture haveemulated each other in surrounding them: there is nothing more impiousthan to call forth man's reason upon superstitious creeds; nothing moreheretical than to cheer up mortals against systems, of which the ideaalone is the source of all their sorrows; there is nothing more pious, nothing more orthodox, than to exterminate those audacious beings whohave had sufficient temerity to attempt to break an invisible charm thatkeeps the human species benumbed in error: if we are to put faith in theasseverations of the hierarchy, to be disposed to break man's chains isto rend asunder his most sacred bonds. 

In consequence of these clamours, perpetually renovated by the disciplesof imposture, kept constantly afloat by the theologians, reiterated byignorance, those nations, which reason, in all ages, has sought toundeceive, have never dared to hearken to its benevolent lessons: theyhave stood aghast at the very name of physical truth. The friends ofmankind were never listened to, because they were the enemies to hissuperstition--the examiners of the doctrines of his priest. Thus thepeople continued to tremble; very few philosophers had the courage tocheer them; scarcely any one dared brave public opinion; completelyinoculated by superstition, they dreaded the power of imposture, themenaces of tyranny, which always sought to uphold themselves bydelusion. The yell of triumphant ignorance, the rant of haughtyfanaticism, at all time stifled the feeble voice of the disciple ofnature; his lessons were quickly forgotten; he was obliged to keepsilence; when he even dared to speak, it was frequently only in anenigmatical language, perfectly unintelligible to the great mass ofmankind. How should the uninformed, who with difficulty compass the mostevident truths, those that are the most distinctly announced, be able tocomprehend the mysteries of nature, presented under half words, couchedunder intricate emblems. 

In contemplating the outrageous language which is excited amongtheologians, by the opinions of those whom they choose to call atheists;in looking at the punishments which at their instigation were frequentlydecreed against them, should we not be authorized to conclude, thatthese doctors either are not so certain as they say they are, of theinfallibility of their respective systems; or else that they do notconsider the opinions of their adversaries so absurd as they pretend? Itis always either distrust, weakness, or fear, frequently the wholeunited, that render men cruel; they have no anger against those whomthey despise; they do not look upon folly as a punishable crime. Weshould be content with laughing at an irrational mortal, who should denythe existence of the sun; we should not think of punishing him, unlesswe had, ourselves, taken leave of our senses. Theological fury neverproves more than the imbecility of its cause. Lucian describes Jupiter, who disputing with Menippus, is disposed to strike him to the earth withhis thunder; upon which the philosopher says to him, "Ah! thou vexestthyself, thou usest thy thunder! then thou art in the wrong. " Theinhumanity of these men-monsters, whose profession it was to announcechimerical systems to nations, incontestibly proves, that they alonehave an interest in the invisible powers they describe; of which theysuccessfully avail themselves to terrify, mortals: they are thesetyrants of the mind, however, who, but little consequent to their ownprinciples, undo with one hand that which they rear up with the other:they are these profound logicians who, after having formed a deityfilled with goodness, wisdom and equity, traduce, disgrace, andcompletely annihilate him, by saving he is cruel, capricious, unjust, and despotic: this granted, these men are truly impious; decidedlyheretical. 

He who knoweth not this system, cannot do it any injury, consequentlycannot be called impious. "To he impious, " says Epicurus, "is not totake away from the illiterate the gods which they have; it is toattribute to these gods the opinions of the vulgar. " To be impious is toinsult systems which we believe; it is knowingly to outrage them. To beimpious, is to admit a benevolent, just God, at the same time we preachup persecution and carnage. To be impious, is to deceive men in the nameof a Deity, whom we make use of as a pretext for our own unworthypassions. To be impious, is to speak falsely on the part of a God, whomwe suppose to be the enemy of falsehood. In fine, to be impious, is tomake use of the name of the Divinity in order to disturb society--toenslave it to tyrants--to persuade man that the cause of imposture isthe cause of God; it is to impute to God those crimes which wouldannihilate his divine perfections. To be impious, and irrational, at thesame time, is to make, by the aggregation of discrepant qualities, amere chimera of the God we adore. 

On the other hand, to be pious, is to serve our country with fidelity;it is to be useful to our fellow creatures; to labour to the welfare ofsociety. Every one can put in his claim to this piety, according to hisfaculties; he who meditates can render himself useful, when he has thecourage to announce truth--to attack error--to battle those prejudiceswhich everywhere oppose themselves to the happiness of mankind; it is tobe truly useful, it is even a duty, to wrest from the hands of mortalsthose homicidal weapons which wretched fanatics so profusely distributeamong them; it is highly praiseworthy to deprive imposture of itsinfluence; it is loving our neighbour as ourself to despoil tyranny ofits fatal empire over opinion, which at all times it so successfullyemploys to elevate knaves at the expence of public happiness; to erectits power upon the ruins of liberty; to establish unruly passions uponthe wreck of public security. To be truly pious, is religiously toobserve the wholesome laws of nature; to follow up faithfully thoseduties which she prescribes to us; in short, to be pious is to behumane, equitable, benevolent: it is to respect the rights of mankind. To be pious and rational at the same time, is to reject those reverieswhich would be competent to make us mistake the sober counsels ofreason. 

Thus, whatever fanaticism, whatever imposture may say, he who denieththe solidity of systems which have no other foundation than an alarmedimagination; he who rejecteth creeds continually in contradiction withthemselves; he who banisheth from his heart, doctrines perpetuallywrestling with nature, always in hostility with reason, ever at war withthe happiness of man; he, I repeat, who undeceiveth himself on suchdangerous chimeras, when his conduct shall not deviate from thoseinvariable rules which sound morality dictates, which nature approves, which reason prescribes, may be fairly reputed pious, honest, andvirtuous. Because a man refuseth to admit contradictory systems, as wellas the obscure oracles, which are issued in the name of the gods, doesit then follow, that such a man refuses to acknowledge the evident, thedemonstrable laws of nature, upon which he depends, of which he inobliged to fulfil the necessary duties, under pain of being punished inthis world; whatever he may be in the in the next? It is true, that ifvirtue could by any chance consist in an ignominious renunciation ofreason, in a destructive fanaticism, in useless customs, the atheist, ashe is called, could not pass for a virtuous being: but if virtueactually consists in doing to society all the good of which we arecapable, this miscalled atheist may fairly lay claim to its practice:his courageous, tender soul, will not be found guilty, for hurling hislegitimate indignation against prejudices, fatal to the happiness of thehuman species. 

Let us listen, however, to the imputations which the theologians layupon those men they falsely denominate atheists; let us coolly, withoutany peevish humour, examine the calumnies which they vomit forth againstthem: it appears to them that atheism, (as they call differing inopinion from themselves, ) is the highest degree of delirium that canassail the human mind; the greatest stretch of perversity that caninfect the human heart; interested in blackening their adversaries, theymake incredulity the undeniable offspring of folly; the absolute effectof crime. "We do not, " say they to us, "see those men fall into thehorrors of atheism, who have reason to hope the future state will be forthem a state of happiness. " In short, according to these metaphysicaldoctors, it is the interest of their passions which makes them seek todoubt systems, at whose tribunals they are accountable for the abuses ofthis life; it is the fear of punishment which is alone known toatheists; they are unceasingly repeating the words of a Hebrew prophet, who pretends that nothing but folly makes men deny these systems;perhaps, however, if he had suppressed his negation, he would have moreclosely aproximated the truth. Doctor Bentley, in his _Folly ofAtheism_, has let loose the whole Billingsgate of theological spleen, which he has scattered about with all the venom of the most filthyreptiles: if he and other expounders are to be believed, "nothing isblacker than the heart of an atheist; nothing is more false than hismind. Atheism, " according to them, "can only be the offspring of atortured conscience, that seeks to disengage itself from the cause ofits trouble. We have a right", says Derham, "to look upon an atheist asa monster among rational beings; as one of those extraordinaryproductions which we hardly ever meet with in the whole human species;and who, opposing himself to all other men, revolts not only againstreason and human nature, but against the Divinity himself. "

We shall simply reply to all these calumnies by saying, it is for thereader to judge if the system which these men call atheism, be as absurdas these profound speculators (who are perpetually in dispute on theuninformed, ill organized, contradictory, whimsical productions of theirown brain) would have it believed to be! It is true, perhaps, that thesystem of naturalism hitherto has not been developed in all its extent:unprejudiced persons however, will, at least, be enabled to know whetherthe author has reasoned well or ill; whether or not he has attempted todisguise the most important difficulties; distinctly to see if he hasbeen disingenuous; they will be competent to observe if, like unto theenemies of human reason, he has recourse to subterfuges, to sophisms, tosubtle discriminations, which ought always to make it suspected of thosewho use them, either that they do not understand or else that they fearthe truth. It belongs then to candour, it is the province ofdisinterestedness, it is the duty of reason to judge, if the naturalprinciples which have been here ushered to the world be destitute offoundation; it is to these upright jurisconsults that a disciple ofnature submits his opinions: he has a right to except against thejudgment of enthusiasm; he has the prescription to enter his caveatagainst the decision of presumptuous ignorance; above all, he isentitled to challenge the verdict of interested knavery. Those personswho are accustomed to think, will, at least find reasons to doubt manyof those marvellous notions, which appear as incontestable truths onlyto those, who have never assayed them by the standard of good sense. 

We agree with Derham, that atheists are rare; but then we also say, thatsuperstition has so disfigured nature, so entangled her rights--enthusiasm has so dazzled the human mind-terror has so disturbed theheart of man--imposture has so bewildered his imagination--tyranny hasso enslaved his thoughts: in fine, error, ignorance, and delirium haveso perplexed and confused the clearest ideas, that nothing is moreuncommon than to find men who have sufficient courage to undeceivethemselves on notions which every thing conspires to identify with theirvery existence. Indeed, many theologians in despite of those bitterinvectives with which they attempt to overwhelm the men they choose tocall atheists, appear frequently to have doubted whether any everexisted in the world. Tertullian, who, according to modern systems, would be ranked as an atheist, because he admitted a corporeal God, says, "Christianity has dissipated the ignorance in which the Paganswere immersed respecting the divine essence, and there is not an artizanamong the Christians who does not see God, and who does not know him. "This uncertainty of the theologic professors was, unquestionably, founded upon those absurd ideas, which they ascribe to theiradversaries, whom they have unceasingly accused with attributing everything to chance--to blind causes--to dead, inert matter, incapable ofself-action. We have, I think, sufficiently justified the partizans ofnature against these ridiculous accusations; we have throughout thewhole proved, and we repeat it, that chance is a word devoid of sense, which as well as all other unintelligible words, announces nothing butignorance of actual causes. We have demonstrated that matter is notdead; that nature, essentially active and self-existent, has sufficientenergy to produce all the beings which she contains--all the phenomenawe behold. We have, throughout, made it evident that this cause is muchmore tangible, more easy of comprehension, than the inconceivable theoryto which theology assigns these stupendous effects. We have represented, that the incomprehensibility of natural effects was not a sufficientreason for assigning to them a system still more incomprehensible thanany of those of which, at least, we have a slight knowledge. In fine, ifthe incomprehensibility of a system does not authorize the denial of itsexistence, it is at least certain that the incompatibility of theattributes with which it is clothed, authorizes the assertion, thatthose which unite them cannot be any thing more than chimeras, of whichthe existence is impossible. 

This granted, we shall be competent to fix the sense that ought to beattached to the name of atheist; which, notwithstanding, the theologianslavish on all those who deviate in any thing from their opinions. If, byatheist, be designated a man who denieth the existence of a powerinherent in matter, without which we cannot conceive nature, and if itbe to this power that the name of God is given, then there do not existany atheists, and the word under which they are denominated would onlyannounce fools. But if by atheists be understood men without enthusiasm;who are guided by experience; who follow the evidence of their senses;who see nothing in nature but what they actually find to have existence, or that which they are capacitated to know; who neither do, nor canperceive any thing but matter essentially active, moveable, diverselycombined, in the full enjoyment of various properties, capable ofproducing all the beings who display themselves to our visual faculties, if by atheists be understood natural philosophers, who are convincedthat without recurring to chimerical causes, they can explain everything, simply by the laws of motion; by the relation subsisting betweenbeings; by their affinities; by their analogies; by their aptitude toattraction; by their repulsive powers; by their proportions; by theircombinations; by their decomposition: if by atheists be meant thesepersons who do not understand what _Pneumatology_ is, who do notperceive the necessity of spiritualizing, or of renderingincomprehensible, those corporeal, sensible, natural causes, which theysee act uniformly; who do not find it requisite to separate the motive-power from the universe; who do not see, that to ascribe this power toan immaterial substance, to that whose essence is from thenceforthtotally inconceivable, is a means of becoming more familiar with it: ifby atheists are to be pourtrayed those men who ingenuously admit thattheir mind can neither receive nor reconcile the union of the negativeattributes and the theological abstractions, with the human and moralqualities which are given to the Divinity; or those men who pretend thatfrom such an incompatible alliance, there could only result an imaginarybeing; seeing that a pure spirit is destitute of the organs necessary toexercise the qualities, to give play to the faculties of human nature:if by atheists are described those men who reject systems, whose odiousand discrepant qualities are solely calculated to disturb the humanspecies--to plunge it into very prejudicial follies: if, I repeat it, thinkers of this description are those who are called atheists, it isnot possible to doubt their existence; and their number would beconsiderable, if the light of sound natural philosophy was moregenerally diffused; if the torch of reason burnt more distinctly; or ifit was not obscured by the theological bushel: from thence, however, they would be considered neither as irrational; nor as furious beings, but as men devoid of prejudice, of whose opinions, or if they prefer it, whose ignorance, would be much more useful to the human race, than thoseideal sciences, those vain hypotheses, which for so many ages have beenthe actual causes of all man's tribulation. 

Doctor Cudworth, in his _Intellectual System_, reckons four species ofatheists among the ancients. 

First. --The disciples of Anaximander, called _Hylopathians_, whoattributed every thing to matter destitute of feeling. His doctrine was, that men were born of earth united with water, and vivified by the beamsof the sun; his crime seems to have been, that he made the firstgeographical maps and sun-dials; declared the earth moveable and of acylindrical form. 

Secondly. --The _Atomists_, or the disciples of Democritus, who attributeevery thing, to the concurrence of atoms. His crime was, having firsttaught that the milky way was occasioned by the confused light from amultitude of stars. 

Thirdly. --The _Stoics_, or the disciples of Zeno, who admitted a blindnature acting after certain laws. His crime appears to be, that hepractised virtue with unwearied perseverance, and taught that thisquality alone would render mankind happy. 

Fourthly. --The _Hylozoists_, or the disciples of Strato, who attributedlife to matter. His crime consisted in being one of the most acutenatural philosophers of his day, enjoying high favour with PtolemyPhiladelphus, an intelligent prince, whose preceptor be was. 

If, however, by atheists, are meant those men, who are obliged to avow, that they have not one idea of the system they adore, or which theyannounce to others; who cannot give any satisfactory account, either ofthe nature or of the essence of their immaterial substances; who cannever agree amongst themselves on the proofs which they adduce insupport of their System; on the qualities or on the modes of action oftheir incorporeities, which by dint of negations they render a merenothing; who either prostrate themselves, or cause others to bow down, before the absurd fictions of their own delirium: if, I say, byatheists, be denominated men of this stamp, we shall be under thenecessity of allowing, that the world is filled with them: we shall evenbe obliged to place in this number some of the most active theologians, who are unceasingly reasoning upon that Which they do not understand;who are eternally disputing upon points which they cannot demonstrate;who by their contradictions very efficaciously undermine their ownsystems; who annihilate all their own assertions of perfection, by thenumberless imperfections with which they clothe them; who rebel againsttheir gods by the atrocious character under which they depict them. Inshort, we shall be able to consider as true atheists, those credulous, weak persons, who upon hearsay and from tradition, bend the knee beforeidols, of whom they have no other ideas, than those which are furnishedthem by their spiritual guides, who themselves acknowledge that theycomprehend nothing about the matter. 

What has been said amply proves that the theologians themselves have notalways known the sense they could affix to the word atheist; they havevaguely attacked, in an indistinct manner, calumniated with it, thosepersons whose sentiments and principles were opposed to their own. Indeed, we find that these sublime professors, always infatuated withtheir own particular opinions, have frequently been extremely lavish intheir accusations of atheism, against all those whom they felt a desireto injure; whose characters it was their pleasure to paint inunfavourable colours; whose doctrines they wished to blacken; whosesystems they sought to render odious: they were certain of alarming theilliterate, of rousing the antipathies of the silly, by a looseimputation, or by a word, to which ignorance attaches the idea ofhorror, merely because it is unacquainted with its true sense. Inconsequence of this policy, it has been no uncommon spectacle to see thepartizans of the same sect, the adorers of the same gods, reciprocallytreat each other as atheists, in the fervour of their theologicalquarrels; to be an atheist, in this sense, is not to have, in everypoint, exactly the same opinions as those with whom we dispute, eitheron superstitious or religious subjects. In all times the uninformed haveconsidered those as atheists, who did not think upon the Divinityprecisely in the same manner as the guides whom they were accustomed tofollow. Socrates, the adorer of a unique God, was no more than anatheist in the eyes of the Athenian people. 

Still more, as we have already observed, those persons have frequentlybeen accused of atheism, who have taken the greatest pains to establishthe existence of the gods, but who have not produced satisfactoryproofs: when their enemies wished to take advantage of them, it was easyto make them pass for atheists, who had wickedly betrayed their cause, by defending it too feebly. The theologians have frequently been veryhighly incensed against those who believed they had discovered the mostforcible proof of the existence of their gods, because they were obligedto discover that their adversaries could make very contrary inductionsfrom their propositions; they did not perceive that it was next toimpossible not to lay themselves open to attack, in establishingprinciples visibly founded upon that which each man sees variously. ThusPaschal says, "I have examined if this God, of whom all the worldspeaks, might not have left some marks of himself. I look every where, and every where I see nothing but obscurity. Nature offers one nothing, that may not be a matter of doubt and inquietude. If I saw nothing innature which indicated a Divinity, I should determine with myself, tobelieve nothing about it. If every where I saw the sign of a creator, Ishould repose myself in peace, in the belief of one. But seeing too muchto deny, and too little to assure me of his existence, I am in asituation that I lament, and in which I have an hundred times wished, that if a God doth sustain nature, he would give unequivocal marks ofit, and that if the signs which he hath given be deceitful, that hewould suppress them entirely; that he said all or nothing, to the endthat I might see which side I ought to follow. "

In a word, those who have most vigorously taken up the cause of thetheological systems, have been taxed with atheism and irreligion; themost zealous partizans have been looked upon as deserters, have beencontemplated as traitors; the most orthodox theologians have not beenable to guarantee themselves from this reproach; they have mutuallybespatered each other; prodigally lavished, with malignant reciprocity, the most abusive terms: nearly all have, without doubt, merited theseinvectives, if in the term atheist be included those men who have notany idea of their various systems, that does not destroy itself, whenever they are willing to submit it to the touchstone of reason. Fromwhence we may conclude, without subjecting ourselves to the reproach ofbeing hasty, that error will not stand the test of investigation; thatit will not pass the ordeal of comparison; that it is in its hues aperfect chamelion; that consequently it can never do more than lead tothe most absurd deductions: that the most ingenious systems, when theyhave their foundations in hallucination, crumble like dust under therude band of the assayer; that the most sublimated doctrines, when theylack the substantive quality of rectitude, evaporate under the scrutinyof the sturdy examiner, who tries them in the crucible; that it is notby levelling abusive language against those who investigatesophisticated theories, they will either be purged of their absurdities, acquire solidity, or find an establishment to give them perpetuity; thatmoral obliquities, can never be made rectilinear by the mere applicationof unintelligible terms, or by the inconsiderate jumble of discrepantproperties, however gaudy the assemblage: in short, that the onlycriterion of truth is, _that it is ever consistent with itself_. 

CHAP. XII. 

_Is what is termed Atheism compatible with Morality?_

After having proved the existence of those whom the superstitious bigot, the heated theologian, the inconsequent theist, calls _atheists_, let usreturn to the calumnies which are so profusely showered upon them by thedeicolists. According to Abady, in his _Treatise on the Truth of theChristian Religion_, "an atheist cannot be virtuous: to him virtue isonly a chimera; probity no more than a vain scruple; honesty nothing butfoolishness;--he knoweth no other law than his interest: where thissentiment prevails, conscience is only a prejudice; the law of natureonly an illusion; right no more than an error; benevolence hath nolonger any foundation; the bonds of society are loosened; the ties offidelity are removed; friend is ready to betray friend; the citizen todeliver up his country; the son to assassinate his father, in order toenjoy his inheritance, whenever they shall find occasion, and thatauthority or silence shall shield them from the arm of the secularpower, which alone is to be feared. The most inviolable rights, and mostsacred laws, must no longer be considered, except as dreams andvisions. " Such, perhaps, would be the conduct, not of a feeling, thinking, reflecting being, susceptible of reason; but of a ferociousbrute, of an irrational wretch, who should not have any idea of thenatural relations which subsist between beings, reciprocally necessaryto each other's happiness. Can it actually be supposed, that a mancapable of experience, furnished with the faintest glimmerings of soundsense, would lend himself to the conduct which is here ascribed to theatheist; that is to say, to a man who is conversant with the evidence offacts; who ardently seeks after truth; who is sufficiently susceptibleof reflection, to undeceive himself by reasoning upon those prejudiceswhich every one strives to shew him as important; which all voicesendeavour to announce to him as sacred? Can it, I repeat, be supposed, that any enlightened, any polished society, contains a citizen socompletely blind, not to acknowledge his most natural duties; so veryabsurd, not to admit his dearest interests; so completely besotted notto perceive the danger he incurs in incessantly disturbing his fellowcreatures; or in following no other rule, than his momentary appetites?Is not every human being who reasons in the least possible manner, obliged to feel that society is advantageous to him; that he hath needof assistance; that the esteem of his fellows is necessary to his ownindividual happiness; provoked, that he has every thing to fear from thewrath of his associates; that the laws menace whoever shall dare toinfringe them? Every man who has received a virtuous education, who hasin his infancy experienced the tender cares of a parent; who has inconsequence tasted the sweets of friendship; who has received kindness;who knows the worth of benevolence; who sets a just value upon equity;who feels the pleasure which the affection of our fellow creaturesprocures for us; who endures the inconveniences which result from theiraversion who smarts under the sting which is inflicted by their scorn, is obliged to tremble at losing, by his measures, such manifestadvantages--at incurring such, imminent danger. Will not the hatred ofothers, the fear of punishment, his own contempt of himself, disturb hisrepose every time that, turning, inwardly upon his own conduct, he shallcontemplate it under the same perspective as does his neighbour? Isthere then no remorse but for those who believe in incomprehensiblesystems? Is the idea that we are tinder the eye of beings of whom wehave but vague notions, more forcible than the thought that we areviewed by our fellow men; than the fear of being detected by ourselves;than the dread of exposure; than the cruel necessity of becomingdespicable in our own eyes; than the wretched alternative, to beconstrained to blush guiltily, when we reflect on our wild career, andthe sentiments which it must infallibly inspire?

This granted, we shall reply deliberately to this Abady, that an atheistis a man who understands nature, who studies her laws; who knows his ownnature; who feels what it imposes upon him. An atheist hath experience;this experience proves to him every moment that vice can injure him;that his most concealed faults, his most secret dispositions, may bedetected--may display his character in open day; this experience provesto him that society is useful to his happiness; that his interestauthoritatively demands he should attach himself to the country thatprotects him, which enables him to enjoy in security the benefits ofnature; every thing shews him that in order to be happy he must makehimself beloved; that his parent is for him the most certain of friends;that ingratitude would remove him from his benefactor; that justice isnecessary to the maintenance of every association; that no man, whateverway he his power, can be content with himself, when he knows he is anobject of public hatred. He who has maturely reflected upon himself, upon his own nature, upon that of his associates, upon his own wants, upon the means of procuring them, cannot prevent himself from becomingacquainted with his duties--from discovering the obligations he owes tohimself, as well as those which he owes to others; from thence he hasmorality, he has actual motives to confirm himself to its dictates; heis obliged to feel, that these duties are imperious: if his reason benot disturbed by blind passions, if his mind be not contaminated byvicious habits, he will find that virtue is the surest road to felicity. The atheists, as they are styled, or the fatalists, build their systemupon necessity: thus, their moral speculations, founded upon the natureof things, are at least much more permanent, much more invariable, thanthose which only rest upon systems that alter their aspect according tothe various dispositions of their adherents--in conformity with thewayward passions of those who contemplate, them. The essence of things, and the immutable laws of nature, are not subject to fluctuate; it isimperative with the atheist, as he is facetiously called by thetheologian, to call whatever injures himself either vice or folly; todesignate that which injures others, crime; to describe all that isadvantageous to society, every thing which contributes to its permanenthappiness, virtue. 

It will be obvious, then, that the principles of the miscalled atheistare much less liable to be shaken, than those of the enthusiast, whoshall have studied a baby from his earliest Infancy; who should havedevoted not only his days, but his nights, to gleaning the scantyportion of actual information that he scatters through his volumes; theywill have a much more substantive foundation than those of thetheologian, who shall construct his morality upon the harlequin sceneryof systems that so frequently change, even in his own distempered brain. If the atheist, as they please to call those who differ in opinion withthemselves, objects to the correctness, of--their systems, he cannotdeny his own existence, nor that of beings similar to himself, by whomhe is surrounded; he cannot doubt the reciprocity of the relations thatsubsist between them; he cannot question the duties which spring out ofthese relations; Pyrrhonism, then, cannot enter his mind upon the, actual principles of morality; which is nothing more than the science ofthe relations of beings living together in society. 

If, however, satisfied with a barren, speculative knowledge of hisduties, the atheist of the theologian should not apply them in hisconduct--if, hurried along by the current of his ungovernable passions--if, borne forward by criminal habits--if, abandoned to shameful vices-if, possessing a vicious temperament, which he has not been sedulous tocorrect--if, lending himself to the stream of outrageous desires, heappears to forget his moral obligations, it by no means follows, eitherthat he hath no principles, or that his principles are false: it canonly be concluded from such conduct, that in the intoxication of hispassions, in the delirium of his habits, in the confusion of his reason, he does not give activity to doctrines grounded upon truth; that heforgets to give currency to ascertained principles; that he may followthose propensities which lead him astray. In this, indeed, he will havedreadfully descended to the miserable level of the theologian, but hewill nevertheless find him the partner of his folly--the partaker of hisinsanity--the companion of his crime. 

Nothing is, perhaps, more common among men, than a very markeddiscrepancy between the mind and the heart; that is to say, between thetemperament, the passions, the habits the caprices, the imagination, andthe judgment, assisted by reflection. Nothing is, in fact, more rare, than to find these harmoniously running upon all fours with each other;it is, however, only when they do, that we see speculation influencepractice. The most certain virtues are those which are founded upon thetemperament of man. Indeed, do we not every day behold mortals incontradiction with themselves? Does not their more sober judgmentunceasingly condemn the extravagancies to which their undisciplinedpassions deliver them up? In short, doth not every thing prove to ushourly, that men, with the very best theory, have sometimes the veryworst practice; that others with the most vicious theory, frequentlyadopt the most amiable line of conduct? In the blindest systems, in themost atrocious superstitions, in those which are most contrary toreason, we meet with virtuous men, the mildness of whose character, thesensibility of whose hearts, the excellence of whose temperament, reconducts them to humanity, makes them fall back upon the laws of nature, in despite of their furious theories. Among the adorers of the mostcruel, vindictive, jealous gods, are found peaceable, souls, who areenemies to persecution; who set their faces against violence; who aredecidedly opposed to cruelty: among the disciples of a God filled withmercy, abounding in clemency, are seen barbarous monsters; inhumancannibals: nevertheless, both the one and the other acknowledge, thattheir gods ought to serve them for a model. Wherefore, then, do they notin all things conform themselves? It is because the most wicked systemscannot always corrupt a virtuous soul; that those which are most bland, most gentle in their precepts, cannot always restrain hearts drivenalong by the impetuosity of vice. The organization will, perhaps, bealways more potential than either superstition or religion. Presentobjects, momentary interests, rooted habits, public opinion, have muchmore efficacy than unintelligible theories, than imaginary systems, which themselves depend upon the organic structure of the human frame. 

The point in question then is, to examine if the principles of theatheist, as he is erroneously called, be true, and not whether hisconduct be commendable? An atheist, having an excellent theory, foundedupon nature, grafted upon experience, constructed upon reason, whodelivers himself up to excesses, dangerous to himself, injurious tosociety, is, without doubt, an inconsistent man. But he is not more tobe feared than a superstitious bigot; than a zealous enthusiast; or thaneven a religious man who, believing in a good, confiding in anequitable, relying on a perfect God, does not scruple to commit the mostfrightful devastations in his name. An atheistical tyrant wouldassuredly not be more to be dreaded than a fanatical despot. Anincredulous philosopher, however, is not so mischievous a being as anenthusiastic priest, who either fans the flame of discord among hisfellow subjects, or rises in rebellion against his legitimate monarch. Would, then, an atheist clothed with power, be equally dangerous as apersecuting priest-ridden king; as a savage inquisitor; as a whimsicaldevotee; or, as a morose bigot? These are assuredly more numerous in theworld than atheists, as they are ludicrously termed, whose opinions, orwhose vices are far from being in a condition to have an influence uponsociety; which is ever too much hoodwinked by the priest, too muchblinded by prejudice, too much the slave of superstition, to be disposedto give them a patient hearing. 

An intemperate, voluptuous atheist, is not more dangerous to societythan a superstitions bigot, who knows how to connect licentiousness, punic faith, ingratitude, libertinism, corruption of morals, with histheological notions. Can it, however, be ingeniously imagined, that aman, because he is falsely termed an atheist, or because he does notsubscribe to the vengeance of the most contradictory systems, willtherefore he a profligate debaucheé, malicious, and persecuting; that hewill corrupt the wife of his friend; will turn his own wife adrift; willconsume both his time and his money in the most frivolousgratifications; will be the slave to the most childish amusements; thecompanion of the most dissolute men; that he will discard all his oldfriends; that he will select his bosom confidents from the brazenbetrayers of their native land--from among the hoary despoilers ofconnubial happiness--from out of the ranks of veteran gamblers; that hewill either break into his neighbour's dwelling, or cut his throat; inshort, that he will lend himself to all those excesses, the mostinjurious to society, the most prejudicial to himself, the mostdeserving public castigation? The blemishes of an atheist, then, as thetheologian styles him, have not any thing more extraordinary in themthan those of the superstitious man; they possess nothing with which hisdoctrine can he fairly reproached. A tyrant, who should he incredulous, would not be a more incommodious scourge to his subjects, than atheological autocrat, who should wield his sceptre to the misery of hispeople. Would the nation of the latter feel more happy, from the merecircumstance that the tyger who governed it believed in the mostabstract systems, heaped the most sumptuous presents on the priests, andhumiliated himself at their shrine? At least it must be acknowledged, according to the shewing of the theologian himself, that under thedominion of the atheist, a nation would not have to apprehendsuperstitious vexations; to dread persecutions for opinion; to fearproscriptions for ill-digested systems; neither would it witness thosestrange outrages that have sometimes been Committed for the interests ofheaven, even under the mildest monarchs. If it was the victim to theturbulent passions of an unbelieving prince, the sacrifice to the follyof a sovereign who should be an infidel, it would not, at least, sufferfrom his blind infatuation, for theological systems which he does notunderstand; nor from his fanatical zeal, which of all the passions thatinfest monarchs, is ever the most destructive, always the mostdangerous. An atheistical tyrant, who should persecute for opinions, would be a man not consistent with his own principles; he could notexist; he would not, indeed, according to the theologian, be an atheistat most, he would only furnish one more example, that mortals much morefrequently follow the blind impulse of their passions, the moreimmediate stimulus of their interest, the irresistible torrent of theirtemperament, than their speculations, however grave, however wise. Itis, at least, evident, that an atheist has one pretext less than acredulous prince, for exercising his natural wickedness. 

Indeed, if men condescended to examine things coolly, they would findthat on this earth the name of God is but too frequently made use of asa motive to indulge the worst of human passions. Ambition, imposture, and tyranny, have often formed a league to avail themselves of itsinfluence, to the end that they might blind the people, and bend thembeneath a galling yoke: the monarch sometimes employs it to give adivine lustre to his person--the sanction of heaven to his rights--theconfidence of its votaries to his most unjust, most extravagant whims. The priest frequently uses it to give currency to his pretensions, tothe end that he may with impunity gratify his avarice, minister to hispride, secure his independence. The vindictive, enraged, superstitiousbeing, introduces the cause of his gods, that he may give free scope tohis fury, which he qualifies with zeal. In short, superstition becomesdangerous, because it justifies those passions, lends legitimacy tothose crimes, holds forth as commendable those excesses, of which itdoes not fail to gather the fruit: according to its ministers, everything is permitted to revenge the most high: thus the name of theDivinity is made use of to authorize the most baneful actions, topalliate the most injurious transgressions. The atheist, as he iscalled, when he commits crimes, cannot, at least, pretend that it is hisgods who command them, or who clothe them with the mantle of theirapproval, this is the excuse the superstitious being offers for hisperversity; the tyrant for his persecutions; the priest for his cruelty, and for his sedition; the fanatic for the ebullition of his boilingpassions; the penitent for his inutility. 

"They are not, " says Bayle, "the general opinions of the mind, but thepassions, which determine us to act. " Atheism, as it is called, is asystem which will not make a good man wicked but it may, perhaps, make awicked man good. "Those, " says the same author, "who embraced the sectof Epicurus, did not become debaucheés because they had adopted thedoctrine of Epicurus; they only lent themselves to the system, thenbadly understood, because they were debaucheés. " In the same manner, aperverse man may embrace atheism, because he will flatter himself, thatthis system will give full scope to his passions: he will neverthelessbe deceived. Atheism, as it is called, if well understood, is foundedupon nature and upon reason, which never can, like superstition, eitherjustify or expiate the crimes of the profligate. 

From the diffusion of doctrines which make morality depend uponunintelligible, incomprehensible systems, that are proposed to man for amodel, there has unquestionably resulted very great inconvenience. Corrupt souls, in discovering, how much each of these suppositions areerroneous or doubtful, give loose to the rein of their vices, andconclude there are not more substantive motives for acting well; theyimagine that virtue, like these fragile systems, is merely chimerical;that there is not any cogent solid reason for practising it in thisworld. Nevertheless, it must be evident, that it is not as the disciplesof any particular tenet, that we are bound to fulfil the duties ofmorality; it is as men, living together in society, as sensible beingsseeking to secure to ourselves a happy existence, that we should feelthe moral obligation. Whether these systems maintain their ground, orwhether the do not, our duties will remain the same; our nature, ifconsulted, will incontestibly prove, that _vice is a decided evil, thatvirtue is an actual, a substantial good_. 

If, then, there be found atheists who have denied the distinction ofgood and evil, or who have dared to strike at the foundations ofmorality; we ought to conclude, that upon this point they have reasonedbadly; that they have neither been acquainted with the nature of man, nor known the true source of his duties; that they have falsely imaginedthat ethics, as well as theology, was only an ideal science; that thefleeting systems once destroyed, there no longer remained any bonds toconnect mortals. Nevertheless, the slightest reflection would haveincontestibly proved, that morality is founded upon immutable relationssubsisting between sensible, intelligent, sociable beings; that withoutvirtue, no society can maintain itself; that without putting the curb onhis desires, no mortal can conserve himself: man is constrained from hisnature to love virtue, to dread crime, by the same necessity thatobliges him to seek happiness, and fly from sorrow: thus nature compelshim to place a distinction between those objects which please, and thoseobjects Which injure him. Ask a man, who is sufficiently irrational todeny the difference between virtue and vice, if it would be indifferentto him to be beaten, robbed, calumniated, treated with ingratitude, dishonoured by his wife, insulted by his children, betrayed by hisfriend? His answer will prove to you, that whatever he may say, hediscriminates the actions of mankind; that the distinction between goodand evil, does not depend either upon the conventions of men, or uponthe ideas which they may have of particular systems; upon thepunishments or upon the recompenses which attend mortals in a futureexistence. 

On the contrary, an atheist, as he is denominated, who should reasonwith justness, would feel himself more interested than another inpractising those virtues to which he finds his happiness attached inthis world. If his views do not extend themselves beyond the limits ofhis present existence, he must, at least, desire to see his days roll onin happiness and in peace. Every man, who during the calm of hispassions, falls back upon himself, will feel that his interest inviteshim to his own preservation; that his felicity rigorously demands heshould take the necessary means to enjoy life peaceably that it becomesan imperative duty to himself to keep his actual abode free from alarm;his mind untainted by remorse. Man oweth something to man, not merelybecause he would offend any particular system, if he was to injure hisfellow creature; but because in doing him an injury he would offend aman; would violate the laws of equity; in the maintenance of which everyhuman being finds himself interested. 

We every day see persons who are possessed of great talents, who havevery extensive knowledge, who enjoy very keen penetration, join to theseadvantages a very corrupt heart; who lend, themselves to the mosthideous vices: their opinions may be true in some respects, false in agreat many others; their principles may be just, but their inductionsare frequently defective; very often precipitate. A man may embracesufficient knowledge to detect some of his errors, yet command toolittle energy to divest himself of his vicious propensities. Man is abeing whose character depends upon his organization, modified by habit--upon his temperament, regulated by education--upon his propensities, marshalled by example--upon his; passions, guided by his government; inshort, he is only what transitory or permanent circumstances make him:his superstitious ideas are obliged to yield to this temperament; hisimaginary systems feel a necessity to accommodate themselves to hispropensities; his theories give way to his interests. If the systemwhich constitutes man an atheist in the eyes of this theologic friend, does not remove him from the vices with which he was anteriorly tainted, neither does it tincture him with any new ones; whereas, superstitionfurnishes its disciples with a thousand pretexts for committing evilwithout repugnance; induces them even to applaud themselves for thecommission of crime. Atheism, at least, leaves men such as they are; itwill neither increase a man's intemperance, nor add to his debaucheries, it will not render him more cruel than his temperament before invitedhim to be: whereas superstition either lacks the rein to the mostterrible passions, gives loose to the most abominable suggestions, orelse procures easy expiations for the most dishonourable vices. "Atheism, " says Chancellor Bacon, "leaves to man reason, philosophy, natural piety, laws, reputation, and every thing that can serve toconduct him to virtue; but superstition destroys all these things, anderects itself into a tyranny over the understandings of men: this is thereason why atheism never disturbs the government, but renders man moreclear-sighted, as seeing nothing beyond the bounds of this life. " Thesame author adds, "that the times in which men have turned towardsatheism, have been the most tranquil; whereas superstition has alwaysinflamed their minds, and carried them on to the greatest disorders;because it infatuates the people with novelties, which wrest from andcarry with them all the authority of government. "

Men, habituated to meditate, accustomed to make study a pleasure, arenot commonly dangerous citizens: whatever may be their speculations, they never produce sudden revolutions upon the earth. The winds of thepeople, at all times susceptible to be inflamed by the marvellous, theirdormant passions liable to be aroused by enthusiasm, obstinately resistthe light of simple truths; never heat themselves for systems thatdemand a long train of reflection--that require the depth of the mostacute reasoning. The system of atheism, as the priests choose todenominate it, can only be the result of long meditation; the fruit ofconnected study; the produce of an imagination cooled by experience: itis the child of reason. The peaceable Epicurus never disturbed Greece;his philosophy was publicly taught in Athens during many centuries; hewas in incredible favour with his countrymen, who caused statues to beerected to him; he had a prodigious number of friends, and his schoolsubsisted for a very long period. Cicero, although a decided enemy tothe Epicureans, gives a brilliant testimony to the probity both ofEpicurus and his disciples, who were remarkable for the inviolablefriendship they bore each other. In the time of Marcus Aurelius, therewas at Athens a public professor of the philosophy of Epicurus, paid bythat emperor, who was himself a stoic. Hobbes did not cause blood toflow in England, although in his time, religious fanaticism made a kingperish on the scaffold. The poem of Lucretius caused no civil wars inRome; the writings of Spinosa did not excite the same troubles inHolland as the disputes of Gomar and D'Arminius. In short, we can defythe enemies to human reason to cite a single example, which proves in adecisive manner that opinions purely philosophical, or directly contraryto superstition, have ever excited disturbances in the state. Tumultshave generally arisen from theological notions, because both princes andpeople have always foolishly believed they ought to take a part in them. There is nothing so dangerous as that empty philosophy, which thetheologians have combined with their systems. It is to philosophy, corrupted by priests, that it peculiarly belongs to blow up the embersof discord; to invite the people to rebellion; to drench the earth withhuman blood. There is, perhaps, no theological question, which has notbeen the source of immense mischief to man; whilst all the writings ofthose denominated atheists, whether ancient or modern, have never causedany evil but to their authors; whom dominant imposture has frequentlyimmolated at his deceptive shrine. 

The principles of atheism are not formed for the mass of the people, whoare commonly under the tutelage of their priests; they are notcalculated for those frivolous capacities, not suited to thosedissipated minds, who fill society with their vices, who hourly affordevidence of their own inutility; they will not gratify the ambitious;neither are they adapted to intriguers, nor fitted for those restlessbeings who find their immediate interest in disturbing the harmony ofthe social compact: much less are they made for a great number ofpersons, who, enlightened in other respects, have not sufficient courageto divorce themselves from the received prejudices. 

So many causes unite themselves to confirm man in those errors which hedraws in with his mother's milk, that every step that removes him fromthese endeared fallacies, costs him uncommon pain. Those persons who aremost enlightened, frequently cling on some side to the generalprepossession. By giving up these revered ideas, we feel ourselves, asit were, isolated in society: whenever we stand alone in our opinions, we no longer seem to speak the language of our associates; we are apt tofancy ourselves placed on a barren, desert island, in sight of apopulous, fruitful country, which we can never reach: it thereforerequires great courage to adopt a mode of thinking that has but fewapprovers. In those countries where human knowledge has made someprogress; where, besides, a certain freedom of thinking is enjoyed, mayeasily be found a great number of deicolists, theists, or incredulousbeings, who, contented with having trampled under foot the grosserprejudices of the illiterate, have not dared to go back to the source--to cite the more subtle systems before the tribunal of reason. If thesethinkers did not stop on the road, reflection would quickly prove tothem that those systems which they have not the fortitude to examine, are equally injurious to sound ratiocination, fully as revolting to goodsense, quite as repugnant to the evidence of experience, as any of thosedoctrines, mysteries, fables, or superstitious customs, of which theyhave already acknowledged the futility; they would feel, as we havealready proved, that all these things are nothing more than thenecessary consequences of those primitive errors which man has indulgedfor so many ages in succession; that in admitting these errors, they nolonger have any rational cause to reject the deductions which theimagination has drawn from them. A little attention would distinctlyshew them, that it is precisely these errors that are the true cause ofall the evils of society; that those endless disputes, those sanguinaryquarrels, to which superstition and the spirit of party every instantgive birth, are the inevitable effects of the importance they attach toerrors which possess all the means of distraction, that scarcely everfail to put the mind of man into a state of combustion. In short, nothing is more easy than to convince ourselves that imaginary systems, not reducible to comprehension, which are always painted under terrificaspects, must act upon the imagination in a very lively manner, mustsooner or later produce disputes--engender enthusiasm--give birth tofanaticism--end in delirium. 

Many persons acknowledge, that the extravagances to which superstitionlends activity, are real evils; many complain of the abuse ofsuperstition, but there are very few who feel that this abuse, togetherwith the evils, are the necessary consequences of the fundamentalprinciples of all superstition; which are founded upon the most grievousnotions, which rest themselves on the most tormenting opinions. We dailysee persons undeceived upon superstitious ideas, who neverthelesspretend that this superstition "is salutary for the people;" thatwithout its supernatural magic, they could not he kept within duebounds; in other words, could not be made the voluntary slaves of thepriest. But, to reason thus, is it not to say, poison is beneficial tomankind, that therefore it is proper to poison them, to prevent themfrom making an improper use of their power? Is it not in fact to pretendit is advantageous to render them absurd; that it is a profitable courseto make them extravagant; wholesome to give them an irrational bias;that they have need of hobgoblins to blind them; require the mostincomprehensible systems to make them giddy; that it is imperative tosubmit them either to impostors or to fanatics, who will availthemselves of their follies to disturb the repose of the world? Again, is it an ascertained fact, does experience warrant the conclusion, thatsuperstition has a useful influence over the morals of the people? Itappears much more evident, is much better borne out by observation, falls more in with the evidence of the senses, that it enslaves themwithout rendering them better; that it constitutes an herd of ignorantbeings, whom panic terrors keep under the yoke of their task-masters;whom their useless fears render the wretched instruments of toweringambition--of rapacious tyrants; of the subtle craft of designingpriests: that it forms stupid slaves, who are acquainted with no othervirtue, save a blind submission to the most futile customs, to whichthey attach a much more substantive value than to the actual virtuesspringing out of the duties of morality; or issuing from the socialcompact which has never been made known to them. If by any chance, superstition does restrain some few individuals, it has no effect on thegreater number, who suffer themselves to be hurried along by theepidemical vices with which they are infected: they are placed by itupon the stream of corruption, and the tide either sweeps them away, orelse, swelling the waters, breaks through its feeble mounds, andinvolves the whole in one undistinguished mass of ruin. It is in thosecountries where superstition has the greatest power, that will always befound the least morality. Virtue is incompatible with ignorance; itcannot coalesce with superstition; it cannot exist with slavery: slavescan only be kept in subordination by the fear of punishment; ignorantchildren are for a moment intimidated by imaginary terrors. But freemen, the children of truth, have no fears but of themselves; are neither tobe lulled into submission by visionary duties, nor coerced by fancifulsystems; they yield ready obedience to the evident demonstrations ofvirtue; are the faithful, the invulnerable supporters of solid systems;cling with ardour to the dictates of reason; form impenetrable rampartsround their legitimate sovereigns; and fix their thrones on animmoveable basis, unknown to the theologian; that cannot be touched withunhallowed hands; whose duration will be commensurate with the existenceof time itself. To form freemen, however, to have virtuous citizens, itis necessary to enlighten them; it is incumbent to exhibit truth tothem; it is imperative to reason with them; it is indispensable to makethem feel their interests; it is paramount to learn them to respectthemselves; they must be instructed to fear shame; they must be excitedto have a just idea of honour; they must be made familiar with the valueof virtue, they must be shewn substantive motives for following itslessons. How can these happy effects ever he expected from the pollutedfountains of superstition, whose waters do nothing more than degrademankind? Or how are they to be obtained from the ponderous, bulky yokeof tyranny, which proposes nothing more to itself, than to vanquish themby dividing them; to keep them in the most abject condition by means oflascivious vices, and the most detestable crimes?

The false idea, which so many persons have of the utility ofsuperstition, which they, at least, judge to be calculated to restrainthe licentiousness of the illiterate, arise from the fatal prejudicethat it is a useful error; that truth may be dangerous. This principlehas complete efficacy to eternize the sorrows of the earth: whoevershall have the requisite courage to examine these things, will withouthesitation acknowledge, that all the miseries of the human race are tobe ascribed to his errors; that of these, superstitious error must hethe most prejudicial, from the importance which is usually attached toit; from the haughtiness with which it inspires sovereigns; from theworthless condition which it prescribes to subjects; from the phrenzywhich it excites among the vulgar. We shall, therefore, be obliged toconclude, that the superstitious errors of man, rendered sacred by time, are exactly those which for the permanent interest of mankind, for thewell-being of society, for the security of the monarch himself, demandthe most complete destruction; that it is principally to theirannihilation, the efforts of a sound philosophy ought to be directed. Itis not to be feared, that this attempt will produce either disorders orrevolutions: the more freedom shall accompany the voice of truth, themore convincing it will appear; although the more simple it shall be, the less it will influence men, who are only smitten with themarvellous; even those individuals who most sedulously seek after truth, who pursue it with the greatest ardour, have frequently an irresistibleinclination, that urges them on, and incessantly disposes them toreconcile error with its antipode. That great master of the art ofthinking, who holds forth to his disciples such able advice, says, withabundant reason, "that there is nothing but a good and solid philosophy, which can, like another Hercules, exterminate those monsters calledpopular errors: it is that alone which can give freedom to the humanmind. "

Here is, unquestionably, the true reason why atheism, as it is called, of which hitherto the principles have not been sufficiently developed, appears to alarm even those persons who are the most destitute ofprejudice. They find the interval too great between vulgar superstitionand an absolute renunciation of it; they imagine they take a wise mediumin compounding with error; they therefore reject the consequences, whilethey admit the principle; they preserve the shadow and throw away thesubstance, without foreseeing that, sooner or later, it must, by itsobstetric art, usher into the world, one after another, the same follieswhich now fill the heads of bewildered human beings, lost in thelabyrinths of incomprehensible systems. The major part of theincredulous, the greater number of reformers, do no more than prune acankered tree, to whose root they dare not apply the axe; they do notperceive that this tree will in the end produce the same fruit. Theology, or superstition, will always be an heap of combustible matter:brooded in the imagination of mankind, it will always finish by causingthe most terrible explosions. As long as the sacerdotal order shall havethe privilege of infecting youth--of habituating their minds to tremblebefore unmeaning words--of alarming nations with the most terrificsystems, so long will fanaticism be master of the human mind; imposturewill, at its pleasure, cast the apple of discord among the members ofthe state. The most simple error, perpetually fed, unceasingly modified, continually exaggerated by the imagination of man, will by degreesassume a collossal figure, sufficiently powerful to upset everyinstitution; amply competent to the overthrow of empires. Theism is asystem at which the human mind cannot make a long sojourn; founded uponerror, it will, sooner or later, degenerate into the most absurd, themost dangerous superstition. 

Many incredulous beings, many theists, are to be met with in thosecountries where freedom of opinion reigns; that is to say, where thecivil power has known how to balance superstition. But, above all, atheists as they are termed, will be found in those nations where, superstition, backed by the sovereign authority, most enforces theponderosity of its yoke; most impresses the volume of its severity;imprudently abuses its unlimited power. Indeed, when in these kind ofcountries, science, talents, the seeds of reflection, are not entirelystifled, the greater part of the men who think, revolt at the cryingabuses of superstition; are ashamed of its multifarious follies; areshocked at the corruption of its professors; scandalized at the tyrannyof its priests: are struck with horror at those massive chains which itimposes on the credulous. Believing with great reason, that they cannever remove themselves too far from its savage principles, the systemthat serves for the basis of such a creed, becomes as odious as thesuperstition itself; they feel that terrific systems can only bedetailed by cruel ministers; these become detestable objects to everyenlightened, to every honest mind, in which either the love of equity, or the sacred fire of freedom resides; to every one who is the advocateof humanity--the indignant spurner of tyranny. Oppression gives a springto the soul; it obliges man to examine closely into the cause of hissorrows; misfortune is a powerful incentive, that turns the mind to theside of truth. How formidable a foe must not outraged reason be tofalsehood? It at least throws it into confusion, when it tears away itsmask; when it follows it into its last entrenchment; when it proves, beyond contradiction, that _nothing is so dastardly as delusiondetected, or tyrannic power held at bay. _

CHAP. XIII. 

_Of the motives which lead to what is falsely called Atheism. --Can thisSystem be dangerous?--Can it be embraced by the Illiterate?_

The reflections, as well as the facts which have preceded, will furnisha reply to those who inquire what interest man has in not admittingunintelligible systems? The tyrannies, the persecutions, the numberlessoutrages committed under these systems; the stupidity, the slavery, intowhich their ministers almost every where plunge the people; thesanguinary disputes to which they give birth; the multitude of unhappybeings with which their fatal notions fill the world; are surelyabundantly sufficient to create the most powerful, the most interestingmotives, to determine all sensible men, who possess the faculty ofthought, to examine into the authenticity of doctrines, which cause somany serious evils to the inhabitants of the earth. 

A theist, very estimable for his talents, asks, "if there can be anyother cause than an evil disposition, which can make men atheists?" Ireply to him, yes, there are other causes. There is the desire, a verylaudable one, of having a knowledge of interesting truths; there is thepowerful interest of knowing what opinions we ought to hold upon theobject which is announced to us as the most important; there is the fearof deceiving ourselves upon systems which are occupied with the opinionsof mankind, which do not permit he should deceive himself respectingthem with impunity. But when these motives, these causes, should notsubsist, is not indignation, or if they will, an evil disposition, alegitimate cause, a good and powerful motive, for closely examining thepretensions, for searching into the rights of systems, in whose name somany crimes are perpetrated? Can any man who feels, who thinks, who hasany elasticity in his soul, avoid being incensed against austeretheories, which are visibly the pretext, undeniably the source, of allthose evils, which on every side assail the human race? Are they notthese fatal systems which are at once the cause and the ostensiblereason of that iron yoke that oppresses mankind; of that wretchedslavery in which he lives; of that blindness which hides from him hishappiness; of that superstition, which disgraces him; of thoseirrational customs which torment him; of those sanguinary quarrels whichdivide him; of all the outrages which he experiences? Must not everybreast in which humanity is not extinguished, irritate itself againstthat theoretical speculation, which in almost every country is made tospeak the language of capricious, inhuman, irrational tyrants?

To motives so natural, so substantive, we shall join those which arestill more urgent, more personal to every reflecting man: namely, thatbenumbing terror, that incommodious fear, which must be unceasinglynourished by the idea of capricious theories, which lay man open to themost severe penalties, even for secret thoughts, over which he himselfhas not any controul; that dreadful anxiety arising out of inexorablesystems, against which he may sin without even his own knowledge; ofmorose doctrines, the measure of which he can never be certain of havingfulfilled; which so far from being equitable, make all the obligationslay on one side; which with the most ample means of enforcing restraint, freely permit evil, although they hold out the most excruciatingpunishments for the delinquents? Does it not then, embrace the bestinterests of humanity, become of the highest importance to the welfareof mankind, of the greatest consequence to the quiet of his existence, to verify the correctness of these systems? Can any thing be morerational than to probe to the core these astounding theories? Is itpossible that any thing can be more just, than to inquire rigorouslyinto the rights, sedulously to examine the foundations, to try by everyknown test, the stability of doctrines, that involve in theiroperations, consequences of such colossal magnitude; that embrace, intheir dictatory mandates, matters of such high behest; that implicatethe eternal felicity of such countless millions in the vortex of theiraction? Would it not be the height of folly to wear such a tremendousyoke without inquiry; to let such overwhelming notions pass currentunauthenticated; to permit the soi-disant ministers of these terrificsystems to establish their power, without the most ample verification oftheir patents of mission? Would it, I repeat, be at all wonderful, ifthe frightful qualities of some of these systems, as exhibited by theirofficial expounders, whom the accredited functionaries of similarsystems, do not scruple, in the face of day, to brand as impostors, should induce rational beings to drive them entirely from their hearts;to shake off such an intolerable burden of misery; to even deny theexistence of such appalling doctrines, of such petrifying systems, whichthe superstitious themselves, whilst paying them their homage, frequently curse from the very bottom of their hearts?

The theist, however, will not fail to tell the atheist, as he calls him, that these systems are not such as superstition paints them; that thecolours are coarse, too glaring, ill assorted, the perspective out ofall keeping; he will then exhibit his own picture, in which the tintsare certainly blended with more mellowness, the colouring of a morepleasing hue, the whole more harmonious, but the distances equallyindistinct: the atheist, in reply, will say, that superstition itself, with all the absurd prejudices, all the mischievous notions to which itgives birth, are only corollaries drawn from the fallacious ideas, fromthose obscure principles, which the deicolist himself indulges. That hisown incomprehensible system authorizes the incomprehensible absurdities, the inconceivable mysteries, with which superstition abounds; that theyflow consecutively from his own premises; that when once the mind ofmortals is bewildered in the dark, inextricable mazes of an ill-directedimagination, it will incessantly multiply its chimeras. To assure therepose of mankind, fundamental errors must be annihilated; that he mayunderstand his true relations, be acquainted with his imperative duties, primary delusions must be rectified; to procure him that serenity ofsoul, without which there can be no substantive happiness, originalfallacies must be undermined. If the systems of the superstitious berevolting, if their theories be gloomy, if their dogmas areunintelligible, those of the theist will always be contradictory; willprove fatal, when he shall be disposed to meditate upon them; willbecome the source of illusions, with which, sooner or later, imposturewill not omit to abuse his credulity. Nature alone, with the truths shediscovers, is capable of lending to the human mind that firmness whichfalsehood will never be able to shake; to the human heart that self-possession, against which imposture will in vain direct its attacks. 

Let us again reply to those who unceasingly repeat that the interest ofthe passions alone conduct man to what is termed atheism: that it is thedread of future punishment that determines corrupt individuals to makethe most strenuous efforts to break up a system they have reason todread. We shall, without hesitation, agree that it is the interest ofman's passions which excites him to make inquiries; without interest, noman is tempted to seek; without passion, no man will seek vigorously. The question, then, to be examined, is, if the passions and interests, which determine some thinkers to dive into the stability or the systemsheld forth to their adoption, are or are not legitimate? These interestshave, already been exposed, from which it has been proved, that everyrational man finds in his inquietudes, in his fears, reasonable motivesto ascertain, whether or not it be necessary to pass his life inperpetual dread; in never ceasing agonies? Will it be said, that anunhappy being, unjustly condemned to groan in chains, has not the rightof being willing to render them asunder; to take some means to liberatehimself from his prison; to adopt some plan to escape from thosepunishments, which every instant threaten him? Will it be pretended thathis passion for liberty has no legitimate foundation, that he does aninjury to the companions of his misery, in withdrawing himself from theshafts of tyrannical infliction; or in furnishing, them also with meansto escape from its cruel strokes? Is, then, an incredulous man, anything more than one who has taken flight from the general prison, inwhich despotic superstition detains nearly all mankind? Is not anatheist, as he is called, who writes, one who has broken his fetters, who supplies to those of his associates who have sufficient courage tofollow him, the means of setting themselves free from the terrors thatmenace them? The priests unceasingly repeat that it is pride, vanity, the desire of distinguishing himself from the generality of mankind, that determines man to incredulity. In this they are like some of thosewealthy mortals, who treat all those as insolent who refuse to cringebefore them. Would not every rational man have a right to ask thepriest, where is thy superiority in matters of reasoning? What motivescan I have to submit my reason to thy delirium? On the other hand, wayit not be said to the hierarchy, that it is interest which makes thempriests; that it is interest which renders them theologians; that it isfor the interest of their passions, to inflate their pride, to gratifytheir avarice, to minister to their ambition, &c. That they attachthemselves to systems, of which they alone reap the benefits? Whateverit may be, the priesthood, contented with exercising their power overthe illiterate, ought to permit those men who do think, to be excusedfrom bending the knee before their vain, illusive idols. 

We also agree, that frequently the corruption of morals, a life ofdebauchery, a licentiousness of conduct, even levity of mind, mayconduct man to incredulity; but is it not possible to be a libertine, tobe irreligious, to make a parade of incredulity, without being on thataccount an atheist? There is unquestionably a difference between thosewho are led to renounce belief in unintelligible systems by dint ofreasoning, and those who reject or despise superstition, only becausethey look upon it as a melancholy object, or an incommodious restraint. Many persons, no doubt, renounce received prejudices, through vanity orupon hearsay; these pretended strong minds have not examined any thingfor themselves; they act upon the authority of others, whom they supposeto have weighed things more maturely. This kind of incredulous beings, have not, then, any distinct ideas, any substantive opinions, and arebut little capacitated to reason for themselves; they are indeed hardlyin a state to follow the reasoning of others. They are irreligious inthe same manner as the majority of mankind are superstitious, that is tosay, by credulity like the people; or through interest like the priest. A voluptuary devoted to his appetites; a debaucheé drowned indrunkenness; an ambitious mortal given up to his own schemes ofaggrandizement; an intriguer surrounded by his plots; a frivolous, dissipated mortal, absorbed by his gewgaws, addicted to his puerilepursuits, buried in his filthy enjoyments; a loose woman abandoned toher irregular desires; a choice spirit of the day: are these I say, personages, actually competent to form a sound judgment of superstition, which they have never examined? Are they in a condition to maturelyweigh theories that require the utmost depth of thought? Have they thecapabilities to feel the force of a subtle argument; to compass thewhole of a system: to embrace the various ramifications of an extendeddoctrine? If some feeble scintillations occasionally break in upon thecimmerian darkness of their minds; if by any accident they discover somefaint glimmerings of truth amidst the tumult of their passions; ifoccasionally a sudden calm, suspending, for a short season, the tempestof their contending vices, permits the bandeau of their unruly desiresby which they are blinded, to drop for an instant from their hoodwinkedeyes, these leave on them only evanescent traces; scarcely soonerreceived than obliterated. Corrupt men only attack the gods when theyconceive them to be the enemies to their vile passions. Arrian says, "that when men imagine the gods are in opposition to their passions, they abuse them, and overturn their altars. " The Chinese, I believe, dothe same. The honest man makes war against systems which he finds areinimical to virtue--injurious to his own happiness--baneful to that ofhis fellow mortals--contradictory to the repose, fatal to the interestsof the human species. The bolder, therefore, the sentiments of thehonest atheist, the more strange his ideas, the more suspicious theyappear to other men, the more strictly he ought to observe his ownobligations; the more scrupulously he should perform his duties;especially if he be not desirous that his morals shall calumniate hissystem; which duly weighed, will make the necessity of sound ethics, thecertitude of morality, felt in all its force; but which every species ofsuperstition tends to render problematical, or to corrupt. 

Whenever our will is moved by concealed and complicated motives, it isextremely difficult to decide what determines it; a wicked man may beconducted to incredulity or to scepticism by those motives which he darenot avow, even to himself; in believing he seeks after truth, he mayform an illusion to his mind, only to follow the interest of hispassions; the fear of an avenging system will perhaps determine him todeny their existence without examination; uniformly because he feelsthem incommodious. Nevertheless, the passions sometimes happen to bejust; a great interest carries us on to examine things more minutely; itmay frequently make a discovery of the truth, even to him who seeksafter it the least, or who is only desirous to be lulled to sleep, whois only solicitous to deceive himself. It is the same with a perverseman who stumbles upon truth, as it is with him, who flying from animaginary danger, should encounter in his road a dangerous serpent, which in his haste he should destroy; he does that by accident, withoutdesign, which a man, less disturbed in his mind, would have done withpremeditated deliberation. 

To judge properly of things, it is necessary to be disinterested; it isrequisite to have an enlightened mind, to have connected ideas tocompass a great system. It belongs, in fact, only to the honest man toexamine the proofs of systems--to scrutinize the principles ofsuperstition; it belongs only to the man acquainted with nature, conversant with her ways, to embrace with intelligence the cause of theSYSTEM OF NATURE. The wicked are incapable of judging with temper; theignorant are inadequate to reason with accuracy; the honest, thevirtuous, are alone competent judges in so weighty an affair. What do Isay? Is not the virtuous man, from thence in a condition to ardentlydesire the existence of a system that remunerates the goodness of men?If he renounces those advantages, which his virtue confers upon him theright to hope, it is, undoubtedly, because he finds them imaginary. Indeed, every man who reflects will quickly perceive, that for one timidmortal, of whom these systems restrain the feeble passions, there aremillions whose voice they cannot curb, of whom, on the contrary, theyexcite the fury; for one that they console, there are millions whom theyaffright, whom they afflict; whom they make unhappy: in short, he finds, that against one inconsistent enthusiast, which these systems, which arethought so excellent, render happy, they carry discord, carnage, wretchedness into vast countries; plunge whole nations into misery;deluge them with tears. 

However this may be, do not let us inquire into motives which maydetermine a man to embrace a system; let us rather examine the systemitself; let us convince ourselves of its rectitude; if we shall findthat it is founded upon truth, we shall never, be able to esteem itdangerous. It is always falsehood that is injurious to man; if error bevisibly the source of his sorrows, reason is the true remedy for them;this is the panacea that can alone carry consolation to his afflictions. Do not let us farther examine the conduct of a man who presents us witha system; his ideas, as we have already said, may be extremely sound, when even his actions are highly deserving of censure. If the system ofatheism cannot make him perverse, who is not so by his temperament, itcannot render him good, who does not otherwise know the motives thatshould conduct him to virtue. At least we have proved, that thesuperstitious man, when he has strong passions, when he possesses adepraved heart, finds even in his creed a thousand pretexts more thanthe atheist, for injuring the human species. The atheist has not, atleast, the mantle of zeal to cover his vengeance; he has not the commandof his priest to palliate his transports; he has not the glory of hisgods to countenance his fury; the atheist does not enjoy the faculty ofexpiating, at the expence of a sum of money, the transgressions of hislife; of availing himself of certain ceremonies, by the aid of which hemay atone for the outrages he may have committed against society; he hasnot the advantage of being able to reconcile himself with heaven, bysome easy custom; to quiet the remorse of his disturbed conscience, byan attention to outward forms: if crime has not deadened every feelingof his heart, he is obliged continually to carry within himself aninexorable judge, who unceasingly reproaches him for his odious conduct;who forces him to blush for his own folly; who compels him to hatehimself; who imperiously obliges him to fear examination, to dread theresentment of others. The superstitious man, if he be wicked, giveshimself up to crime, which is followed by remorse; but his superstitionquickly furnishes him with the means a getting rid of it; his life isgenerally no more than a long series of error and grief, of sin andexpiation, following each other in alternate succession; still more, hefrequently, as we have seen, perpetrates crimes of greater magnitude, inorder to wash away the first. Destitute of any permanent ideas onmorality, he accustoms himself to look upon nothing as criminal, butthat which the ministers, the official expounders of his system, forbidhim to commit: he considers actions of the blackest dye as virtues, oras the means of effacing those transgressions, which are frequently heldout to him as faithfully executing the duties of his creed. It is thuswe have seen fanatics expiate their adulteries by the most atrociouspersecutions; cleanse their souls from infamy by the most unrelentingcruelty; make atonement for unjust wars by the foulest means; qualifytheir usurpations by outraging every principle of virtue; in order towash away their iniquities, bathe themselves in the blood of thosesuperstitious victims, whose infatuation made them martyrs. 

An atheist, as he is falsely called, if he has reasoned justly, if hehas consulted nature, hath principles more determinate, more humane, than the superstitious; his system, whether gloomy or enthusiastic, always conducts the latter either to folly or cruelty; the imaginationof the former will never be intoxicated to that degree, to make himbelieve that violence, injustice, persecution, or assassination areeither virtuous or legitimate actions. We every day see thatsuperstition, or the cause of heaven, as it is called, hoodwinks eventhose persons who on every other occasion are humane, equitable, andrational; so much so, that they make it a paramount duty to treat withdetermined barbarity, those men who happen to step aside from their modeof thinking. An heretic, an incredulous being, ceases to be a man, inthe eyes of the superstitious. Every society, infected with the venom ofbigotry, offers innumerable examples of juridical assassination, whichthe tribunals commit without scruple, even without remorse. Judges whoare equitable on every other occasion, are no longer so when there is aquestion of theological opinions; in steeping their hands in the bloodof their victims, they believe, on the authority of the priests, theyconform themselves to the views of the Divinity. Almost every where thelaws are subordinate to superstition; make themselves accomplices in itsfanatical fury; they legitimate those actions most opposed to the gentlevoice of humanity; they even transform into imperative duties, the mostbarbarous cruelties. The president Grammont relates, with a satisfactiontruly worthy of a cannibal, the particulars of the punishment of Vanini, who was burned at Thoulouse, although he had disavowed the opinions withwhich he was accused; this president carries his demoniac prejudices sofar, as to find wickedness in the piercing cries, in the dreadfulhowlings, which torment wrested from this unhappy victim tosuperstitious vengeance. Are not all these avengers of the godsmiserable men, blinded by their piety, who, under the impression ofduty, wantonly immolate at the shrine of superstition, those wretchedvictims whom the priests deliver over to them? Are they not savagetyrants, who have the rank injustice to violate thought; who have thefolly to believe they can enslave it? Are they not delirious fanatics, on whom the law, dictated by the most inhuman prejudices, imposes thenecessity of acting like ferocious brutes? Are not all those sovereigns, who to gratify the vanity of the priesthood, torment and persecute theirsubjects, who sacrifice to their anthropophagite gods human victims, menwhom superstitious zeal has converted into tygers? Are not thosepriests, so careful of the soul's health, who insolently break into thesacred sanctuary of man's mind, to the end that they may find in hisopinions motives for doing him an injury, abominable knaves, disturbersof the public repose, whom superstition honours, but whom virtuedetests? What villains are more odious in the eyes of humanity, whatdepredators more hateful to the eye of reason, than those infamousinquisitors, who by the blindness of princes, by the delirium ofmonarchs, enjoy the advantage of passing judgment on their own enemies;who ruthlessly commit them to the charity of the flames? Nevertheless, the fatuity of the people makes even these monsters respected; thefavour of kings covers them with kindness; the mantle of superstitiousopinion shields them from the effect of the just execration of everyhonest man. Do not a thousand examples prove, that superstition hasevery where produced the most frightful ravages: that it has continuallyjustified the most unaccountable horrors? Has it not a thousand timesarmed its votaries with the dagger of the homicide; let loose passionsmuch wore terrible than those which it pretended to restrain; broken upthe most sacred bonds by which mortals are connected with each other?Has it not, under the pretext of duty, under the colour of faith, underthe semblance of zeal, under the sacred name of piety, favouredcupidity, lent wings to ambition, countenanced cruelty, given a springto tyranny? Has it not legitimatized murder; given a system to perfidy;organized rebellion; made a virtue of regicide? Have not those princeswho have been foremost as the avengers of heaven, who have been thelictors of superstition, frequently themselves become its victims? Inshort, has it not been the signal for the most dismal follies, the mostwicked outrages, the most horrible massacres? Has not its altars beendrenched with human gore? Under whatever form it has been exhibited, hasit not always been the ostensible cause of the most bare-facedviolation--of the sacred rights of humanity?

Never will an atheist, as he is called, as called, as he enjoys hisproper senses, persuade himself that similar actions can be justifiable;never will he believe that he who commits them can be an estimable man;there is no one but the superstitious, whose blindness makes him forgetthe most evident principles of morality, whose callous soul renders himdeaf to the voice of nature, whose zeal causes him to overlook thedictates of reason, who can by any possibility imagine the mostdestructive crimes are the most prominent features of virtue. If theatheist be perverse, he, at least, knows that he acts wrong; neitherthese systems, nor their priests, will be able to persuade him that hedoes right: one thing, however, is certain, whatever crimes he may allowhimself to commit, he will never be capable of exceeding those whichsuperstition perpetrates without scruple; that it encourages in thosewhom it intoxicates with its fury; to whom it frequently holds forthwickedness itself, either as expiations for offences, or else asorthodox, meritorious actions. 

Thus the atheist, however wicked he may be supposed, will at most beupon a level with the devotee, whose superstition encourages him tocommit crimes, which it transforms into virtue. As to conduct, if he bedebauched, voluptuous, intemperate, adulterous, the atheist in thisdiffers in nothing from the most credulously superstitious, whofrequently knows how to connect these vices with his credulity, to blendwith his superstition certain atrocities, for which his priests, provided he renders due homage to their power, especially if he augmentstheir exchequer, will always find means to pardon him. If he be inHindoostan, his brahmins will wash him in the sacred waters of theGanges, while reciting a prayer. If he be a Jew, upon making anoffering, his sins will be effaced. If he be in Japan, he will becleansed by performing a pilgrimage. If he be a Mahometan, he will bereputed a saint, for having visited the tomb of his prophet; the Romanpontiff himself will sell him indulgences; but none of them will evercensure him for those crimes he may have committed in the support oftheir several faiths. 

We are constantly told, that the indecent behaviour of the officialexpounders of superstition, the criminal conduct of the priests, or oftheir sectaries, proves nothing against the goodness of their systems. Admitted: but wherefore do they not say the same thing of the conduct ofthose whom they call atheists, who, as we have already proved, way havea very substantive, a very correct system of morality, even whileleading a very dissolute life? If it be necessary to judge the opinionsof mankind according to their conduct, which is the theory that wouldbear the scrutiny? Let us, then, examine the opinion of the atheist, without approving his conduct; let us adopt his mode of thinking, if wefind it marked by the truth; if it shall appear useful; if it shall beproved rational; but let us reject his mode of action, if that should befound blameable. At the sight of a work performed with truth, we do notembarrass ourselves with the morals of the workman: of what importanceis it to the universe, whether the illustrious Newton was a sober, discreet citizen, or a debauched intemperate man? It only remains for usto examine his theory; we want nothing more than to know whether he hasreasoned acutely; if his principles be steady; if the parts of hissystem are connected; if his work contains more demonstrable truths, than bold ideas? Let us judge in the same manner of the principles ofthe atheist; if they appear strange, if they are unusual, that is asolid reason for probing them more strictly; if he has spoken truth, ifhe has demonstrated his positions, let us yield to the weight ofevidence; if he be deceived in some parts, let us distinguish the truefrom the false; but do not let us fall into the hacknied prejudice, which on account of one error in the detail, rejects a multitude ofincontestible truisms. Doctor Johnson, I think, says in his preface tohis Dictionary, "when a man shall have executed his task with all theaccuracy possible, he will only be allowed to have done his duty; but ifhe commits the slightest error, a thousand snarlers are ready to pointit out. " The atheist, when he is deceived, has unquestionably as muchright to throw his faults on the fragility of his nature, as thesuperstitious man. An atheist may have vices, may be defective, he mayreason badly; but his errors will never have the consequences ofsuperstitious novelties; they will not, like these, kindle up the fireof discord in the bosom of nations; the atheist will not justify hisvices, defend his wanderings by superstition; he will not pretend toinfallibility, like those self-conceited theologians who attach theDivine sanction to their follies; who initiate that heaven authorizesthose sophisms, gives currency to those falsehoods, approves thoseerrors, which they believe themselves warranted to distribute over theface of the earth. 

It will perhaps be said, that the refusal to believe in these systems, will rend asunder one of the most powerful bonds of society, by makingthe sacredness of an oath vanish. I reply, that perjury is by no meansrare, even in the most superstitious nations, nor even among the mostreligious, or among those who boast of being the most thoroughlyconvinced of the rectitude of their theories. Diagoras, superstitious ashe was, and it was not well possible to be more so, it is said became anatheist, on seeing that the gods did not thunder their vengeance on aman who had taken them as evidence to a falsity. Upon this principle, how many atheists ought there to be? From the systems that have madeinvisible unknown beings the depositaries of man's engagements, we donot always see it result that they are better observed; or that the mostsolemn contracts have acquired a greater solidity. If history wasconsulted, it would now and then be in evidence, that even theconductors of nations, those who have said they were the images of theDivinity, who have declared that they held their right of governingimmediately from his hands, have sometimes taken the Deity as thewitness to their oaths, have made him the guarantee of their treaties, without its having had all the effect that might have been expected, when very trifling interests have intervened; it would appear, unlesshistorians are incorrect, that they did not always religiously observethose sacred engagements they made with their allies, much less withtheir subjects. To form a judgment from these historic documents, weshould be inclined to say, there have been those who had muchsuperstition, joined with very little probity; who made a mockery bothof gods and men; who perhaps blushed when they reviewed their ownconduct: nor can this be at all surprising, when it not unfrequentlyhappened that superstition itself absolved them from their oaths. Infact, does not superstition sometimes inculcate perfidy; prescribeviolation of plighted faith? Above all, when there is a question of itsown interests, does it not dispense with engagements, however solemn, made with those whom it condemns? It is, I believe, a maxim in theRomish church, that _"no faith is to be held with heretics. "_ Thegeneral council of Constance decided thus, when, notwithstanding theemperor's passport, it decreed John Hus and Jerome of Prague to beburnt. The Roman pontiff has, it is well known, the right of relievinghis sectaries from their oaths; of annulling their vows: this samepontiff has frequently arrogated to himself the right of deposing kings;of absolving their subjects from their oaths of fidelity. Indeed, it israther extraordinary that oaths should be prescribed, by the laws ofthose nations which profess Christianity, seeing that Christ hasexpressly forbidden the use of them. If things were consideredattentively, it would be obvious that under such management, superstition and politics are schools of perjury. They render it common:thus knaves of every description never recoil, when it is necessary toattest the name of the Divinity to the most manifest frauds, for thevilest interests. What end, then, do oaths answer? They are snares, inwhich simplicity alone can suffer itself to be caught: oaths, almostevery where, are vain formalities, that impose nothing upon villains;nor do they add any thing to the sacredness of the engagements of honestmen; who would neither have the temerity nor the wish to violate them;who would not think themselves less bound without an oath. A perfidious, perjured, superstitious being, has not any advantage over an atheist, who should fail in his promises: neither the one nor the other anylonger deserves the confidence of their fellow citizens nor the esteemof good men; if one does not respect his gods, in whom he believes, theother neither respects his reason, his reputation, nor public opinion, in which all rational men cannot refuse to believe. Hobbes says, "anoath adds nothing to the obligation. For a covenant, if lawful, binds inthe sight of God, without the oath, as much as with it: if unlawful, bindeth not at all: though it be confirmed with an oath. " The heathenform was, "let Jupiter kill me else, as I kill this beast. " Adjurationonly augments, in the imagination of him who swears, the fear ofviolating an engagement, which he would have been obliged to keep, evenwithout the ceremony of an oath. 

It has frequently been asked, if there ever was a nation that had noidea of the Divinity: and if a people, uniformly composed of atheists, would be able to subsist? Whatever some speculators may say, it does notappear likely that there ever has been upon our globe, a numerous peoplewho have not had an idea of some invisible power, to whom they haveshewn marks of respect and submission: it has been sometimes believedthat the Chinese were atheists: but this is an error, due to theChristian missionaries, who are accustomed to treat all those asatheists, who do not hold opinions similar with their own upon Divinity. It always appears that the Chinese are a people extremely addicted tosuperstition, but that they are governed by chiefs who are not so, without however their being atheists for that reason. If the empire ofChina be as flourishing as it is said to be, it at least furnishes avery forcible proof that those who govern have no occasion to bethemselves superstitious, in order to govern with propriety a people whoare so. It is pretended that the Greenlanders have no idea of theDivinity. Nevertheless, it is difficult to believe it of a nation sosavage. Man, inasmuch as he is a fearful, ignorant animal, necessarilybecomes superstitious in his misfortunes: either he forms gods forhimself, or he admits the gods which others are disposed to give him; itdoes not then appear, that we can rationally suppose there may havebeen, or that there actually is, a people on the earth a total strangerto some Divinity. One will shew us the sun, the moon, or the stars; theother will shew us the sea, the lakes, the rivers, which furnish him hissubsistence, the trees which afford him an asylum against the inclemencyof the weather; another will shew us a rock of an odd form; a loftymountain; or a volcano that frequently astonishes him by its emission oflava; another will present you with his crocodile, whose malignity hefears; his dangerous serpent, the reptile to which he attributes hisgood or bad fortune. In short, each individual will make you behold hisphantasm or his tutelary or domestic gods with respect. 

But from the existence of his gods, the savage does not draw the sameinductions as the civilized, polished man: the savage does not believeit a duty to reason continually upon their qualities; he does notimagine that they ought to influence his morals, nor entirely occupy histhoughts: content with a gross, simple, exterior worship, he does notbelieve that these invisible powers trouble themselves with his conducttowards his fellow creatures; in short, he does not connect his moralitywith his superstition. This morality is coarse, as must be that of allignorant people; it is proportioned to his wants, which are few; it isfrequently irrational, because it is the fruit of ignorance; ofinexperience; of the passions of men but slightly restrained, or to saythus, in their infancy. It is only numerous, stationary, civilizedsocieties, where man's wants are multiplied, where his interests clash, that he is obliged to have recourse to government, to laws, to publicworship, in order to maintain concord. It is then, that menapproximating, reason together, combine their ideas, refine theirnotions, subtilize their theories; it is then also, that those whogovern them avail themselves of invisible powers, to keep them withinbounds, to render them docile, to enforce their obedience, to obligethem to live peaceably. It was thus, that by degrees, morals andpolitics found themselves associated with superstitious systems. Thechiefs of nations, frequently, themselves, the children of superstition, but little enlightened upon their actual interests; slenderly versed insound morality; with an extreme exilty of knowledge on the actuatingmotives of the human heart; believed they had effected every thingrequisite for the stability of their own authority; as well as achievedall that could guarantee the repose of society, that could consolidatethe happiness of the people, in rendering their subjects superstitiouslike themselves; by menacing them with the wrath of invisible powers; intreating them like infants who are appeased with fables, like childrenwho are terrified by shadows. By the assistance of these marvellousinventions, to which even the chiefs, the conductors of nations, arethemselves frequently the dupes; which are transmitted as heirlooms fromrace to race; sovereigns were dispensed from the trouble of instructingthemselves in their duties; they in consequence neglected the laws, enervated themselves in luxurious ease, rusted in sloth; followednothing but their caprice: the care of restraining their subjects wasreposed in their deities; the instruction of the people was confided totheir priests, who were commissioned to train them to obedience, to makethem submissive, to render them devout, to teach them at an early age totremble under the yoke of both the visible and invisible gods. 

It was thus that nations, kept by their tutors in a perpetual state ofinfancy, were only restrained by vain, chimerical theories. It was thusthat politics, jurisprudence, education, morality, were almost everywhere infected with superstition; that man no longer knew any duties, save those which grew out of its precepts: the ideas of virtue were thusfalsely associated with those of imaginary systems, to which imposturegenerally gave that language which was most conducive to its ownimmediate interests: mankind thus fully persuaded, that without thesemarvellous systems, there could not exist any sound morality, princes, as well as subjects, equally blind to their actual interests, to theduties of nature, to their reciprocal rights, habituated themselves toconsider superstition as necessary to mortals--as indispensiblyrequisite to govern men--as the most effectual method of preservingpower--as the most certain means of attaining happiness. 

It is from these dispositions, of which we have so frequentlydemonstrated the fallacy, that so many persons, otherwise extremelyenlightened, look upon it as an impossibility that a society formed ofatheists, as they are termed, could subsist for any length of time. Itdoes not admit a question, that a numerous society, who should neitherhave religion, morality, government, laws, education, nor principles, could not maintain itself; that it would simply congregate beingsdisposed to injure each other, or children who would follow nothing butthe blindest impulse; but then is it not a lamentable fact, that withall the superstition that floats in the world, the greater number ofhuman societies are nearly in this state? Are not the sovereigns ofalmost every country in a continual state of warfare with theirsubjects? Are not the people, in despite of their superstition, notwithstanding the terrific notions which it holds forth, unceasinglyoccupied with reciprocally injuring each other; with renderingthemselves mutually unhappy? Does not superstition itself, with itssupernatural notions, unremittingly flatter the vanity of monarchs, unbridle the passions of princes, throw oil into the fire of discord, which it kindles between those citizens who are divided in theiropinion? Could those infernal powers, who are supposed to be ever on thealert to mischief mankind, be capable of inflicting greater evils uponthe human race than spring from fanaticism, than arise out of the furyto which theology gives birth? Could atheists, however irrational theymay be supposed, if assembled together in society, conduct themselves ina more criminal manner? In short, is it possible they could act worsethan the superstitious, who, saturated with the most pernicious vices, guided by the most extravagant systems, during so many successive ages, have done nothing more than torment themselves with the most cruelinflictions; savagely cut each other's throats, without a shadow ofreason; make a merit of mutual extermination? It cannot be pretendedthey would. On the contrary, we boldly assert, that a community ofatheists, as the theologian calls them, because they cannot fall in withhis mysteries, destitute of all superstition, governed by wholesomelaws, formed by a salutary education, invited to the practice of virtueby instantaneous recompences, deterred from crime by immediatepunishments, disentangled from illusive theories, unsophisticated byfalsehood, would be decidedly more honest, incalculably more virtuous, than those superstitious societies, in which every thing contributes tointoxicate the mind; where every thing conspires to corrupt the heart. 

When we shall be disposed usefully to occupy ourselves with thehappiness of mankind, it is with superstition that the reform mustcommence; it is by abstracting these imaginary theories, destined toaffright the ignorant, who are completely in a state of infancy, that weshall be able to promise ourselves the desirable harvest of conductingman to a state of maturity. It cannot be too often repeated, there canbe no morality without consulting the nature of man, without studyinghis actual relations with the beings of his own species; there can be nofixed principle for man's conduct, while it is regulated upon unjusttheories; upon capricious doctrines; upon corrupt systems; there can beno sound politics without attending to human temperament, withoutcontemplating him as a being associated for the purpose of satisfyinghis wants, consolidating his happiness, and assuring its enjoyment. Nowise government can found itself upon despotic systems; they will alwaysmake tyrants of their representatives. No laws can be wholesome, that donot bottom themselves upon the strictest equity; which have not fortheir object the great end of human society. No jurisprudence can beadvantageous for nations, if its administration be regulated bycapricious systems, or by human passions deified. No education can besalutary, unless it be founded upon reason; to be efficacious to itsproposed end, it must neither be construed upon chimerical theories, norupon received prejudices. In short, there can be no probity, no talents, no virtue, either under corrupt masters, or under the conduct of thosepriests who render man the enemy to himself--the determined foe toothers; who seek to stifle in his bosom the germ of reason; whoendeavour to smother science, or who try to damp his courage. 

It will, perhaps, be asked, if we can reasonably flatter ourselves withever reaching the point to make a whole people entirely forget theirsuperstitious opinions; or abandon the ideas which they have of theirgods? I reply, that the thing appears utterly impossible; that this isnot the end we can propose to ourselves. These ideas, inculcated fromthe earliest ages, do not appear of a nature to admit eradication fromthe mind of the majority of mankind: it would, perhaps be equallyarduous to give them to those persons, who, arrived at a certain time oflife, should never have heard them spoken of, as to banish them from theminds of those, who have been imbued with them from their tenderestinfancy. Thus, it cannot be reckoned possible to make a whole nationpass from the abyss of superstition, that is to say, from the bosom ofignorance, from the ravings of delirium, into absolute naturalism, or asthe priests of superstition would denominate it, into atheism; whichsupposes reflection--requires intense study--demands extensiveknowledge--exacts a long series of experience--includes the habit ofcontemplating nature--the faculty of observing her laws; which, inshort, embraces the expansive science of the causes producing hervarious phenomena; her multiplied combinations, together with thediversified actions of the beings she contains, as well as theirnumerous properties. In order to be an atheist, or to be assured of thecapabilities of nature, it is imperative to have meditated herprofoundly: a superficial glance of the eye will not bring manacquainted with her resources; optics but little practised on herpowers, will unceasingly be deceived; the ignorance of actual causeswill always induce the supposition of those which are imaginary;credulity will, thus re-conduct the natural philosopher himself to thefeet of superstitious phantoms, in which either his limited vision, orhis habitual sloth, will make him believe he shall find the solution toevery difficulty. 

Atheism, then, as well as philosophy, like all profound abstrusesciences, is not calculated for the vulgar; neither is it suitable tothe great mass of mankind. There are, in all populous, civilizednations, persons whose circumstances enable them to devote their time tomeditation, whose easy finances afford them leisure to make deepresearches into the nature of things, who frequently make usefuldiscoveries, which, sooner or later, after they have been submitted tothe infallible test of experience, when they have passed the fieryordeal of truth, extend widely their salutary effects, become extremelybeneficial to society, highly advantageous to individuals. Thegeometrician, the chemist, the mechanic, the natural philosopher, thecivilian, the artizan himself, are industriously employed, either intheir closets, or in their workshops, seeking the means to servesociety, each in his sphere: nevertheless, not one of their sciences orprofessions are familiar to the illiterate; not one of the arts withwhich they are respectively occupied, are known to the uninitiated:these, however, do not fail, in the long run, to profit by them, to reapsubstantive advantages from those labours, of which they themselves haveno idea. It is for the mariner, that the astronomer explores his arduousscience; it is for him the geometrician calculates; for his use themechanic plies his craft: it is for the mason, for the carpenter, forthe labourer, that the skilful architect studies his orders, lays downwell-proportioned elaborate plans. Whatever may be the pretended utilityof Pneumatology, whatever may be the vaunted advantages of superstitiousopinions, the wrangling polemic, the subtle theologian, cannot boasteither of toiling, of writing, or of disputing for the advantage of thepeople, whom, notwithstanding, he contrives to tax, very exorbitantly, for those systems they can never understand; from whom he levies themost oppressive contributions, as a remuneration for the detail of thosemysteries, which under any possible circumstances, cannot, at any timewhatever, be of the slightest benefit to them. It is not, then, for themultitude that a philosopher should propose to himself, either to writeor to meditate: the Code of Nature, or the principles of atheism, as thepriest calls it, are not, as we have shewn, even calculated for themeridian of a great number of persons, who are frequently too muchprepossessed in favour of the received prejudices, although extremelyenlightened on other points. It is extremely rare to find men, who, toan enlarged mind, extensive knowledge, great talents, join either a wellregulated imagination, or the courage necessary to successfully oppugnhabitual errors; triumphantly to attack those chimerical systems, withwhich the brain has been inoculated from the first hour of its birth. Asecret bias, an invincible inclination, frequently, in despite of allreasoning, re-conducts the most comprehensive, the best fortified, themost liberal minds, to those prejudices which have a wide-spreadingestablishment; of which they have themselves taken copious draughtsduring the early stages of life. Nevertheless, those principles, whichat first appear strange, which by their boldness seem revolting, fromwhich timidity flies with trepidation, when they have the sanction oftruth, gradually insinuate themselves into the human mind, becomefamiliar to its exercise, extend their happy influence on every side, and finally produce the most substantive advantages to society. In time, men habituate themselves to ideas which originally they looked upon asabsurd; which on a superficial glance they contemplated as eithernoxious or irrational: at least, they cease to consider those as odious, who profess opinions upon subjects on which experience makes it evidentthey may be permitted to have doubts, without imminent danger to publictranquillity. 

Then the diffusion of ideas among mankind is not an event to be dreaded:if they are truths, they will of necessity be useful: by degrees theywill fructify. The man who writes, must neither fix his eyes upon thetime in which he lives, upon his actual fellow citizens, nor upon thecountry he inhabits. He must speak to the human race; he must instructfuture generations; he must extend his views into the bosom of futurity;in vain he will expect the eulogies of his contemporaries; in vain willhe flatter himself with seeing his reasoning adopted; in vain he willsoothe himself with the pleasing reflection, that his precociousprinciples will be received with kindness; if he has exhibited truisms, the ages that shall follow will do justice to his efforts; unbornnations shall applaud his exertions; his future countrymen shall crownhis sturdy attempts with those laurels, which interested prejudicewithholds from him in his own days; it must therefore be from posterity, he is to expect the need of applause due to his services; the presentrace is hermetically sealed against him: meantime let him contenthimself with having done well; with the secret suffrages of those fewfriends to veracity who are so thinly spread over the surface of theearth. It is after his death, that the trusty reasoner, the faithfulwriter, the promulgator of sterling principles, the child of simplicity, triumphs; it is then that the stings of hatred, the shafts of envy, thearrows of malice, either exhausted or blunted, enable mankind to judgewith impartiality; to yield to conviction; to establish eternal truthupon its own imperishable altars, which from its essence must surviveall the error of the earth. It is then that calumny, crushed like thedevouring snail by the careful gardener, ceases to besmear the characterof an honest man, while its venomous slime, glazed by the sun, enablesthe observant spectator to trace the filthy progress it had made. 

It is a problem with many people, _if truth may not be injurious?_ Thebest intentioned persons are frequently in great doubt upon thisimportant point. The fact is, _it never injures any but those whodeceive mankind_: this has, however, the greatest interest in beingundeceived. Truth may be injurious to the individual who announces it, but it can never by any possibility harm the human species; never can itbe too distinctly presented to beings, always either little disposed tolisten to its dictates, or too slothful to comprehend its efficacy. Ifall those who write to publish important truths, which, of all others, are ever considered the most dangerous, were sufficiently ardent for thepublic welfare to speak freely, even at the risk of displeasing theirreaders, the human race would be much more enlightened, much happierthan it now is. To write in ambiguous terms, is very frequently to writeto nobody. The human mind is idle; we must spare it, as much aspossible, the trouble of reflection; we must relieve it from theembarrassment of intense thinking. What time does it not consume, whatstudy does it not require, at the present day, to unravel theamphibological oracles of the ancient philosophers, whose actualsentiments are almost entirely lost to the present race of men? If truthbe useful to human beings, it is an injustice to deprive them of itsadvantages; if truth ought to be admitted, we must admit itsconsequences, which are also truths. Man, taken generally, is fond oftruth, but its consequences often inspire him with so much dread, soalarm his imbecility, that, frequently, he prefers remaining in error, of which a confirmed habit prevents him from feeling the deplorableeffects. Besides, we shall say with Hobbes, "that we cannot do men anyharm by proposing truth to them; the worst mode is to leave them indoubt, to let them remain in dispute. " If an author who writes bedeceived, it is because he may have reasoned badly. Has he laid downfalse principles? It remains to examine them. Is his system fallacious?Is it ridiculous? It will serve to make truth appear with the greatestsplendor: his work will fall into contempt; the writer, if he be witnessto its fall, will be sufficiently punished for his temerity; if he bedefunct, the living cannot disturb his ashes. No man writes with adesign to injure his fellow creatures; he always proposes to himself tomerit their suffrages, either by amusing them, by exciting theircuriosity, or by communicating to them discoveries, which he believesuseful. Above all, no work can be really dangerous, if it containstruth. It would not be so, even if it contained principles evidentlycontrary to experience--opposed to good sense. Indeed, what would resultfrom a work that should now tell us the sun is not luminous; thatparricide is legitimate; that robbery is allowable; that adultery is nota crime? The smallest reflection would make us feet the falsity of theseprinciples; the whole human race would protest against them. Men wouldlaugh at the folly of the author; presently his book, together with hisname, would be known only by its ridiculous extravagancies. There isnothing but superstitious follies that are pernicious to mortals; andwherefore? It is because authority always pretends to establish them byviolence; to make them pass for substantive virtues; rigorously punishesthose who shall he disposed to smile at their inconsistency, or examineinto their pretensions. If man was more rational, he would examinesuperstitious opinions as he examines every thing else; he would lookupon theological theories with the same eyes that he contemplatessystems of natural philosophy, or problems in geometry: the latter neverdisturbs the repose of society, although they sometimes excite very warmdisputes in the learned world. Theological quarrels would never beattended with any evil consequences, if man could gain the desirablepoint of making those who exercise power, feel that the disputes ofpersons, who do not themselves understand the marvellous questions uponwhich they never cease wrangling, ought not to give birth to any othersensations than those of indifference; to rouse no other passion thanthat of contempt. 

It is, at least, this indifference not speculative theories, so just, sorational, so advantageous for states, that sound philosophy may proposeto introduce, gradually, upon the earth. Would not the human race bemuch happier--if the sovereigns of the world, occupied with the welfareof their subjects, leaving to superstitious theologians their futilecontests, making their various systems yield to healthy politics;obliged these haughty ministers to become citizens; carefully preventedtheir disputes from interrupting the public tranquillity? What advantagemight there not result to science; what a start would be given to theprogress of the human mind, to the cause of sound morality, to theadvancement of equitable jurisprudence, to the improvement oflegislation, to the diffusion of education, from an unlimited freedom ofthought? At present, genius every where finds trammels; superstitioninvariably opposes itself to its course; man, straitened with bandages, scarcely enjoys the free use of any one of his faculties; his minditself is cramped; it appears continually wrapped up in the swaddlingclothes of infancy. The civil power, leagued with spiritual domination, appears only disposed to rule over brutalized slaves, shut up in a darkprison, where they reciprocally goad each other with the efferverscenceof their mutual ill humour. Sovereigns, in general, detest liberty ofthought, because they fear truth; this appears formidable to them, because it would condemn their excesses; these irregularities are dearto them, because they do not, better than their subjects, understandtheir true interests; properly considered, these ought to blendthemselves into one uniform mass. 

Let not the courage of the philosopher, however, be abated by so manyunited obstacles, which would appear for ever to exclude truth from itsproper dominion; to banish reason from the mind of man; to spoil natureof her imprescriptible rights. The thousandth part of those cares whichare bestowed to infect the human mind, would be amply sufficient to makeit whole. Let us not, then, despair of the case: do not let us do manthe injury to believe that truth is not made for him; his mind seeksafter it incessantly; his heart desires it faithfully; his happinessdemands it with an imperious voice; he only either fears it, or mistakesit, because superstition, which has thrown all his ideas into confusion, perpetually keeps the bandeau of delusion fast bound over his eyes;strives, with an almost irresistible force, to render him an entirestranger to virtue. 

Maugre the prodigious exertions that are made to drive truth from theearth; in spite of the extraordinary pains used to exile reason--of theuninterrupted efforts to expel true science from the residence ofmortals; time, assisted by the progressive knowledge of ages, may oneday be able to enlighten even those princes who are the most outrageousin their opposition to the illumination of the human mind; who appearsuch decided enemies to justice, so very determined against theliberties of mankind. Destiny will, perhaps, when least expected, conduct these wandering outcasts to the throne of some enlightened, equitable, courageous, generous, benevolent sovereign, who, smitten withthe charms of virtue, shall throw aside duplicity, frankly acknowledgethe true source of human misery, and apply to it those remedies withwhich wisdom has furnished him: perhaps he may feel, that those systems, from whence it is pretended he derives his power, are the true scourgesof his people; the actual cause of his own weakness: that the officialexpounders of these systems are his most substantial enemies--his mostformidable rivals; he may find that superstition, which he has beentaught to look upon as the main support to his authority, in point offact only enfeebles it--renders it tottering: that superstitiousmorality, false in its principles, is only calculated to pervert hissubjects; to break down their intrepidity; to render them perfidious; inshort, to give them the vices of slaves, in lieu of the virtues ofcitizens. A prince thus disentangled from prejudice, will perhapsbehold, in superstitious errors, the fruitful source of human sorrows, and commiserations, the condition of his race, it may be, willgenerously declare, that they are incompatible with every equitableadministration. 

Until this epoch, so desirable for humanity, shall arrive, theprinciples of naturalism will be adopted only by a small number ofliberal-minded men, who shall dive below the surface; these cannotflatter themselves either with making proselytes, or having a greatnumber of approvers: on the contrary, they will meet with zealousadversaries, with ardent contemners, even in those persons who uponevery other subject discover the most acute minds; display the mostconsummate knowledge. Those men who possess the greatest share ofability, as we have already observed, cannot always resolve to divorcethemselves completely from their superstitious ideas; imagination, sonecessary to splendid talents, frequently forms in them aninsurmountable obstacle to the total extinction of prejudice; thisdepends much more upon the judgment than upon the mind. To thisdisposition, already so prompt to form illusions to them, is also to bejoined the force of habit; to a great number of men, it would hewresting from them a portion of themselves to take away theirsuperstitious notions; it would be depriving them of an accustomedaliment; plunging them into a dreadful vacuum: obliging theirdistempered minds to perish for want of exercise. Menage remarks, "thathistory speaks of very few incredulous women, or female atheists:" thisis not surprising; their organization renders them fearful; theirnervous system undergoes periodical variations; the education theyreceive disposes them to credulity. Those among them who have a soundconstitution, who have a well ordered imagination, have occasion forchimeras suitable to occupy their leisure; above all, when the worldabandons them, then superstitious devotion, with its attractiveceremonies, becomes either a business or an amusement. 

Let us not be surprised, if very intelligent, extremely learned men, either obstinately shut their eyes, or run counter to their ordinarysagacity, every time there is a question respecting an object which theyhave not the courage to examine with that attention they lend to manyothers. Lord Chancellor Bacon pretends, "that a little philosophydisposes men to atheism, but that great depth re-conducts them toreligion. " If we analyze this proposition, we shall find it signifies, that even moderate, indifferent thinkers, are quickly enabled toperceive the gross absurdities of superstition; but that very littleaccustomed to meditate, or else destitute of those fixed principleswhich could serve them for a guide, their imagination presently replacesthem in the theological labyrinth, from whence reason, too weak for thepurpose, appeared disposed to withdraw them: these timid souls, who fearto take courage, with minds disciplined to be satisfied with theologicalsolutions, no longer see in nature any thing but an inexplicable enigma;an abyss which it is impossible for them to fathom: these, habituated tofix their eyes upon an ideal, mathematical point, which they have madethe centre of every thing, whenever they lose sight of it, find theuniverse becomes an unintelligible jumble to them; then the confusion inwhich they feel themselves involved, makes them rather prefer returningto the prejudices of their infancy, which appear to explain every thing, than to float in the vacuum, or quit a foundation which they judge to beimmoveable. Thus the proposition of Bacon should seem, to indicatenothing, except it be that the most experienced persons cannot at alltimes defend themselves against the illusions of their imagination; theimpetuosity of which resists the strongest reasoning. 

Nevertheless, a deliberate study of nature is sufficient to undeceiveevery man who will calmly consider things: he will discover that thephenomena of the world is connected by links, invisible to superficialnotice, equally concealed from the too impetuous observer, but extremelyintelligible to him who views her with serenity. He will find that themost unusual, the most marvellous, as well as the most trifling, orordinary effects, are equally inexplicable, but that they all equallyflow from natural causes; that supernatural causes, under whatever namethey way be designated, with whatever qualities they may be decorated, will never do more than increase difficulties; will only make chimerasmultiply. The simplest observation will incontestibly prove to him thatevery thing is necessary; that all the effects he perceives arematerial; that they can only originate in causes of the same nature, when he even shall not be able to recur to them by the assistance of hissenses. Thus his mind, properly directed, every where show him nothingbut matter, sometimes acting in a manner which his organs permit him tofollow, at others in a mode imperceptible by the faculties he possesses:he will see that all beings follow constant invariable laws, by whichall combinations are united and destroyed; he will find that all formschange, but that, nevertheless, the great whole ever remains the same. Thus, cured of the idle notions with which he was imbued, undeceived inthose erroneous ideas, which from habit be attached to imaginarysystems, he will cheerfully consent to be ignorant of whatever hisorgans do not enable him to compass; he will know that obscure terms, devoid of sense, are not calculated to explain difficulties; guided byreason, be will throw aside all hypothesis of the imagination; thechampion of rectitude, he will attach himself to realities, which areconfirmed by experience, which are evidenced by truth. 

The greater number of those who study nature, frequently do notconsider, that prejudiced eyes will never discover more than that whichthey have previously determined to find: as soon as they perceive factscontrary to their own ideas, they quickly turn aside, and believe theirvisual organs have deceived them; if they return to the task, it is inhopes to find means by which they may reconcile the facts to the notionswith which their own mind is previously tinctured. Thus we findenthusiastic philosophers, whose determined prepossession shews themwhat they denominate incontestible evidences of the systems with whichthey are pre-occupied, even in those things, that most openly contradicttheir hypothesis: hence those pretended demonstrations of the existenceof theories, which are drawn from final causes--from the order ofnature--from the kindness evinced to man, &c. Do these same enthusiastsperceive disorder, witness calamities? They induct new proofs of thewisdom, fresh evidence of the intelligence, additional testimony to thebounty of their system, whilst all these occurrences as visiblycontradict these qualities, as the first seem to confirm or to establishthem. These prejudiced observers are in an ecstacy at the sight of theperiodical motions of the planets; at the order of the stars; at thevarious productions of the earth; at the astonishing harmony in thecomponent parts of animals: in that moment, however, they forget thelaws of motion; the powers of gravitation; the force of attraction andrepulsion; they assign all these striking phenomena to unknown causes, of which they have no one substantive idea. In short, in the fervor oftheir imagination they place man in the centre of nature; they believehim to be the object, the end, of all that exists; that it is for hisconvenience every thing is made; that it is to rejoice his mind, topleasure his senses, that the whole was created; whilst they do notperceive, that very frequently the entire of nature appears to be loosedagainst his weakness; that the elements themselves overwhelm him withcalamity; that destiny obstinately persists in rendering him the mostmiserable of beings. The progress of sound philosophy will always befatal to superstition, whose notions will he continually contradicted bynature. 

Astronomy has caused judiciary astrology to vanish; experimentalphilosophy, the study of natural history and chemistry, have rendered itimpossible for jugglers, priests or sorcerers, any longer to performmiracles. Nature, profoundly studied, must necessarily cause theoverthrow of those chimerical theories, which ignorance has substitutedto her powers. 

Atheism, as it is termed, is only so rare, because every thing conspiresto intoxicate man with a dazzling enthusiasm, from his most tender age;to inflate him from his earliest infancy, with systematic error, withorganized ignorance, which of all others is the most difficult tovanquish, the most arduous to root out. Theology is nothing more than ascience of words, which by dint of repetition we accustom ourselves tosubstitute for things: as soon as we feel disposed to analyze them, weare astonished to find they do not present us with any actual sense. There are, in the whole world, very few men who think deeply: who renderto themselves a faithful account of their own ideas; who have keenpenetrating minds. Justness of intellect is one of the rarest giftswhich nature bestows on the human species. It is not, however, to beunderstood by this, that nature has any choice in the formation of herbeings; it is merely to be considered, that the circumstances veryrarely occur which enable the junction of a certain quantity of thoseatoms or parts, necessary to form the human machine in such dueproportions, that one disposition shall not overbalance the others; andthus render the judgment erroneous, by giving it a particular bias. Weknow the general process of making gunpowder; nevertheless, it willsometimes happen that the ingredients have been so happily blended, thatthis destructive article is of a superior quality to the general produceof the manufactory, without, however, the chemist being on that accountentitled to any particular commendation; circumstances have beendecidedly favorable, and these seldom occur. Too lively an imagination, an over eager curiosity, are as powerful obstacles to the discovery oftruth, as too much phlegm, a slow conception, indolence of mind, or thewant of a thinking habit: all men have more or less imagination, curiosity, phlegm, bile, indolence, activity: it is from the happyequilibrium which nature has observed in their organization, thatdepends that invaluable blessing, correctness of mind. Nevertheless, aswe have heretofore said, the organic structure of man is subject tochange; the accuracy of his mind varies with the mutations of hismachine: from hence may be traced those almost perpetual revolutionsthat take place in the ideas of mortals; above all when there is aquestion concerning those objects, upon which experience does notfurnish any fixed basis whereon to rest their merits. 

To search after right, to discover truth, requires a keen, penetrating, just, active mind; because every thing strives to conceal from us itsbeauties: it needs an upright heart, one in good faith with itself, joined to an imagination tempered with reason, because our habitualfears make us frequently dread its radiance, sometimes bursting like ameteor on our darkened faculties; besides, it not unfrequently happens, that we are actually the accomplices of those who lead us astray, by aninclination we too often manifest to dissimilate with ourselves on thisimportant measure. Truth never reveals itself either to the enthusiastsmitten with his own reveries; to the fellifluous fanatic enslaved byhis prejudices; to the vain glorious mortal puffed up with his ownpresumptuous ignorance; to the voluptuary devoted to his pleasures; orto the wily reasoner, who, disingenuous with himself, has a peculiarspontaneity to form illusions to his mind. Blessed, however, with aheart, gifted with a mind such as described, man will surely discoverthis _rara avis:_ thus constituted, the attentive philosopher, thegeometrician, the moralist, the politician, the theologian himself, whenhe shall sincerely seek truth, will find that the corner-stone whichserves for the foundation of all superstitious systems, is evidentlyrested upon fiction. The philosopher will discover in matter asufficient cause for its existence; he will perceive that its motion, its combination, its modes of acting, are always regulated by generallaws, incapable of variation. The geometrician, without quiting nature, will calculate the active force of matter; it will then become obviousto him, that to explain its phenomena, it is by no means necessary tohave recourse to that which is incommensurable with all known powers. The politician, instructed in the true spring which can act upon themind of nations, will feel distinctly, that it is not imperative torecur to imaginary theories, whilst there are actual motives to giveplay to the volition of the citizens; to induce them to labourefficaciously to the maintenance of their association; he will readilyacknowledge that fictitious systems are calculated either to slaken theexertions, or to disturb the motion of so complicated a machine an humansociety. He who shall more honor truth than the vain subtilities oftheology, will quickly perceive that this pompous science is nothingmore than an unintelligible jumble of false hypothesis; that itcontinually begs its principles; is full of sophisms; contains onlyvitiated circles; embraces the most subdolous distinctions; is usheredto mankind by the most disingenuous arguments, from which it is notpossible, under any given circumstances, there should result any thingbut puerilities--the most endless disputes. In short, all men who havesound ideas of morality, whose notions of virtue are correct, whounderstand what is useful to the human being in society, whether it beto conserve himself individually, or the body of which he is a member, will acknowledge, that in order to discover his relations, to ascertainhis duties, he has only to consult his own nature; that he ought to beparticularly careful neither to found them upon discrepant systems, norto borrow them from models that never can do more than disturb his mind;that will only render his conduct fluctuating; that will leave him forever uncertain of its proper character. 

Thus, every rational thinker, who renounces his prejudices, will beenabled to feel the inutility, to comprehend the fallacy of so manyabstract systems; he will perceive that they have hitherto answered noother purpose than to confound the notions of mankind; to renderdoubtful the clearest truths. In quitting the regions of the empyreum, where his mind can only bewilder itself, in re-entering his propersphere, in consulting reason, man will discover that of which he needsthe knowledge; he will be able to undeceive himself upon thosechimerical theories, which enthusiasm has substituted for actual naturalcauses; to detect those figments, by which imposture has almost everywhere superseded the real motives that can give activity in nature; outof which the human mind never rambles, without going woefully astray;without laying the foundation of future misery. 

The Deicolists, as well as the theologians, continually reproach theiradversaries with their taste for paradoxes--with their attachment tosystems; whilst they themselves found all their reasoning upon imaginaryhypothesis--upon visionary theories; make a principle of submittingtheir understanding to the yoke of authority; of renouncing experience;of setting down as nothing the evidence of their senses. Would it not bejustifiable in the disciples of nature, to say to these men, who thusdespise her, "We only assure ourselves of that which we see; we yield tonothing but evidence; if we have a system, it is one founded upon facts;we perceive in ourselves, we behold every where else, nothing butmatter; we therefore conclude from it that matter can both feel andthink: we see that the motion of the universe is operated aftermechanical laws; that the whole results from the properties, is theeffect of the combination, the immediate consequence of the modificationof matter; thus, we are content, we seek no other explication of thephenomena which nature presents. We conceive only an unique world, inwhich every thing is connected; where each effect is linked to a naturalcause, either known or unknown, which it produces according to necessarylaws; we affirm nothing that is not demonstrable; nothing that you arenot obliged to admit as well as ourselves: the principles we lay downare distinct: they are self-evident: they are facts. If we find somethings unintelligible, if causes frequently become arduous, weingenuously agree to their obscurity; that is to say, to the limits ofour own knowledge. But in order to explain these effects, we do notimagine an hypothesis; we either consent to be for ever ignorant ofthem, or else we wait patiently until time, experience, with theprogress of the human mind, shall throw them into light: is not, then, our manner of philosophizing consistent with truth? Indeed, in whateverwe advance upon the subject of nature, we proceed precisely in the samemanner as our opponents themselves pursue in all the other sciences, such as natural history, experimental philosophy, mathematics, chemistry, &c. We scrupulously confine ourselves to what comes to ourknowledge through the medium of our senses; the only instruments withwhich nature has furnished us to discover truth. What is the conduct ofour adversaries? In order to expound things of which they are ignorant, they imagine theories still more incomprehensible than what they aredesirous to explain; theories of which they themselves are obliged toacknowledge they have not the most slender notion. Thus they invert thetrue principles of logic, which require we should proceed gradually fromthat which is most known, to that with which we are least acquainted. Again, upon what do they found the existence of these theories, by whoseaid they pretend to solve all difficulties? It is upon the universalignorance of mankind; upon the inexperience of man; upon his fears; uponhis disordered imagination; upon a pretended _intimate sense_, which inreality is nothing more than the effect of vulgar prejudice; the resultof dread; the consequence of the want of a reflecting habit, whichinduces them to crouch to the opinions of others; to be guided by themandates of authority, rather than take the trouble to examine for theirown information. Such, O theologians! are the ruinous foundations uponwhich you erect the superstructure of your doctrine. Accordingly, youfind it impossible to form to yourselves any distinct idea of thosetheories which serve for the basis of your systems; you are unable tocomprehend either their attributes, their existence, the nature of theirlocalities, or their mode of action. Thus, even by your own confession, ye are in a state of profound ignorance, on the primary elements of thatwhich ye constitute the cause of all that exists: of which, according toyour own account, it is imperative to have a correct knowledge. Underwhatever point of view, therefore, ye are contemplated, it must beadmitted ye are the founders of aerial systems; of fanciful theories: ofall systematizers, ye are consequently the most absurd; because inchallenging your imagination to create a cause, this cause, at least, ought to diffuse light over the whole; it would be upon this conditionalone that its incomprehensibility could be pardonable; but to speakingenuously, does this cause serve to explain any thing? Does it make usconceive more clearly the origin of the world; bring us more distinctlyacquainted with the actual nature of man; does it more intelligiblyelucidate the faculties of the soul; or point out with more perspicuitythe source of good and evil? No! unquestionably: these subtle theoriesexplain nothing, although they multiply to infinity their owndifficulties; they, in fact, embarrass elucidation, by plunging intogreater obscurity those matters in which they are interposed. Whatevermay be the question agitated, it becomes complicated: as soon as thesetheories are introduced, they envelope the most demonstrable scienceswith a thick, impenetrable mist; render the most simple notions complex;give opacity to the most diaphanous ideas; turn the most evidentopinions into insolvable enigmas. What exposition of morality does thetheories, upon which ye found all the virtue, present to man? Do not allyour oracles breathe inconsistency? Does not your doctrines embraceevery gradation of character, however discrepant: every known property, however opposed. All your ingenious systems, all your mysteries, all thesubtilties which ye have invented, are they capable of reconciling thatdiscordant assemblage of amiable and unamiable qualities, with which yehave dressed up your figments? In short, is it not by these theoriesthat ye disturb the harmony of the universe; is it not in their name yefollow up your barbarous proscriptions; in their support, that ye soinhumanly exterminate all who refuse to subscribe to your organizedreveries; who withhold assent to those efforts of the imagination whichye have collectively decorated with the pompous name of religion; butwhich, individually, ye brand as superstition, always excepting that towhich ye lend yourselves. Agree, then, O Theologians! Acknowledge, then, ye subtle metaphysicians! Consent, then, ye organizers of fancifultheories! that not only are ye systematically absurd, but also that yefinish by being atrocious; because whenever ye obtain the ascendancy oneover the other, your unfortunate pre-eminence is distinguished by themost malevolent persecution; your domination is ushered in with cruelty;your career is described with blood: from the importance which your owninterest attaches to your ruinous dogmas; from the pride with which yetumble down the less fortunate systems of those who started with you forthe prize of plunder; _from that savage ferocity, under which ye equallyoverwhelm human reason, the happiness of the individual, and thefelicity of nations. _"

CHAP. XIV. 

_A Summary of the Code of Nature_. 

Truth is the only object worthy the research of every wise man; sincethat which is false cannot be useful to him: whatever constantly injureshim cannot be founded upon truth; consequently, ought to be for everproscribed. It is, then, to assist the human mind, truly to labour forhis happiness, to point out to him the clew by which he may extricatehimself from those frightful labyrinths in which his imaginationwanders; from those sinuosities whose devious course makes him err, without ever finding a termination to his incertitude. Nature alone, known through experience, can furnish him with this desirable thread;her eternal energies can alone supply the means of attacking theMinotaur; of exterminating the figments of hypocrisy; of destroyingthose monsters, who during so many ages, have devoured the unhappyvictims, which the tyranny of the ministers of Moloch have exacted as acruel tribute from affrighted mortals. By steadily grasping thisinestimable clew, rendered still more precious by the beauty of thedonor, man can never be led astray--will never ramble out of his course;but if, careless of its invaluable properties, for a single instant hesuffers it to drop from his hand; if, like another Theseus, ungratefulfor the favour, he abandons the fair bestower, he will infallibly fallagain into his ancient wanderings; most assuredly become the prey to thecannibal offspring of the White Bull. In vain shall he carry his viewsabove his head, to find resources which are at his feet; so long as man, infatuated with his superstitious notions, shall seek in an imaginaryworld the rule of his earthly conduct, he will be without principles;while he shall pertinaciously contemplate the regions of a distemperedfancy, so long he will grope in those where he actually finds himself;his uncertain steps will never encounter the welfare he desires; neverlead him to that repose after which he so ardently sighs, nor conducthim to that surety which is so decidedly requisite to consolidate hishappiness. 

But man, blinded by his prejudices; rendered obstinate in injuring hisfellow, by his enthusiasm; ranges himself in hostility even againstthose who are sincerely desirous of procuring for him the mostsubstantive benefits. Accustomed to be deceived, he is in a state ofcontinual suspicion; habituated to mistrust himself, to view his reasonwith diffidence, to look upon truth as dangerous, he treats as enemieseven those who most eagerly strive to encourage him; forewarned in earlylife against delusion, by the subtilty of imposture, he believes himselfimperatively called upon to guard with the most sedulous activity thebandeau with which they have hoodwinked him; he thinks his eternalwelfare involved in keeping it for ever over his eyes; he thereforewrestles with all those who attempt to tear it from his obscured optics. If his visual organs, accustomed to darkness, are for a moment opened, the light offends them; he is distressed by its effulgence; he thinks itcriminal to be enlightened; he darts with fury upon those who hold theflambeau by which he is dazzled. In consequence, the atheist, as thearch rogue from whom he differs ludicrously calls him, is looked upon asa malignant pest, as a public poison, which like another Upas, destroysevery thing within the vortex of its influence; he who dares to arousemortals from the lethargic habit which the narcotic doses administeredby the theologians have induced passes for a perturbator; he whoattempts to calm their frantic transports, to moderate the fury of theirmaniacal paroxysms, is himself viewed as a madman, who ought to beclosely chained down in the dungeons appropriated to lunatics; he whoinvites his associates to rend their chains asunder, to break theirgalling fetters, appears only like an irrational, inconsiderate being, even to the wretched captives themselves: who have been taught tobelieve that nature formed them for no other purpose than to tremble:only called them into existence that they might be loaded with shackles. In consequence of these fatal prepossessions, the _Disciple of Nature_is generally treated as an assassin; is commonly received by his fellowcitizens in the same manner as the feathered race receive the dolefulbird of night, which as soon as it quits its retreat, all the otherbirds follow with a common hatred, uttering a variety of doleful cries. 

No, mortals blended by terror! The friend of nature is not your enemy;its interpreter is not the minister of falsehood; the destroyer of yourvain phantoms is not the devastator of those truths necessary to yourhappiness; the disciple of reason is not an irrational being, who eitherseeks to poison you, or to infect you with a dangerous delirium. If heis desirous to wrest the thunder from those terrible theories thataffright ye, it is that ye way discontinue your march, in the midst ofstorms, over roads that ye can only distinguish by the sudden, butevanescent glimmerings of the electric fluid. If he breaks those idols, which fear has served with myrrh and frankencense--which superstitionhas surrounded by gloomy despondency--which fanaticism has imbrued withblood; it is to substitute in their place those consoling truths thatare calculated to heal the desperate wounds ye have received; that aresuitable to inspire you with courage, sturdily to oppose yourselves tosuch dangerous errors; that have power to enable you to resist suchformidable enemies. If he throws down the temples, overturns the altars, so frequently bathed with the bitter tears of the unfortunate, blackenedby the most cruel sacrifices, smoked with servile incense, it is that hemay erect a fane sacred to peace; a hall dedicated to reason; a durablemonument to virtue, in which ye may at all times find an asylum againstyour own phrenzy; a refuge from your own ungovernable passions; asanctuary against those powerful dogmatists, by whom ye are oppressed. If he attacks the haughty pretensions of deified tyrants, who crush yewith an iron sceptre, it is that ye may enjoy the rights of your nature;it is to the end that ye may be substantively freemen, in mind as wellas in body; that ye may not be slaves, eternally chained to the oar ofmisery; it is that ye may at length be governed by men who are citizens, who may cherish their own semblances, who way protect mortals likethemselves, who may actually consult the interests of those from whomthey hold their power. If he battles with imposture, it is to re-establish truth in those rights which have been so long usurped byfiction. If he undermines the base of that unsteady, fanatical morality, which has hitherto done nothing more than perplex your minds, withoutcorrecting your hearts; it is to give to ethics an immovable basis, asolid foundation, secured upon your own nature; upon the reciprocity ofthose wants which are continually regenerating in sensible beings: dare, then, to listen to his voice; you will find it much more intelligiblethan those ambiguous oracles, which are announced to you as theoffspring of capricious theories; as imperious decrees that areunceasingly at variance with themselves. Listen then to nature, shenever contradicts her own eternal laws. 

"O thou!" cries this nature to man, "who, following the impulse I havegiven you, during your whole existence, incessantly tend towardshappiness, do not strive to resist my sovereign law. Labour to your ownfelicity; partake without fear of the banquet which is spread beforeyou, with the most hearty welcome; you will find the means legiblywritten on your own heart. Vainly dost thou, O superstitious being! seekafter thine happiness beyond the limits of the universe, in which myhand hath placed thee: vainly shalt thou search it in those inexorabletheories, which thine imagination, ever prone to wander, would establishupon my eternal throne: vainly dost thou expect it in those fancifulregions, to which thine own delirium hath given a locality and a shame:vainly dost thou reckon upon capricious systems, with whose advantagesthou art in such ecstasies; whilst they only fill thine abode withcalamity--thine heart with dread--thy mind with illusions--thy bosomwith groans. Know that when thou neglectest my counsels, the gods willrefuse their aid. Dare, then, to affranchise thyself from the trammelsof superstition, my self-conceited, pragmatic rival, who mistakes myrights; renounce those empty theories, which are usurpers of myprivileges; return under the dominion of my laws, which, however severe, are mild in comparison with those of bigotry. It is in my empire alonethat true liberty reigns. Tyranny is unknown to its soil; equityunceasingly watches over the rights of all my subjects, maintains themin the possession of their just claims; benevolence, grafted uponhumanity, connects them by amicable bonds; truth enlightens them; nevercan imposture blind them with his obscuring mists. Return, then, mychild, to thy fostering mother's arms! Deserter, trace back thywandering steps to nature! She will console thee for thine evils; shewill drive from thine heart those appalling fears which overwhelm thee;those inquietudes that distract thee; those transports which agitatethee; those hatreds that separate thee from thy fellow man, whom thoushouldst love as thyself. Return to nature, to humanity, to thyself!Strew flowers over the road of life: cease to contemplate the future;live to thine own happiness; exist for thy fellow creatures; retire intothyself, examine thine own heart, then consider the sensitive beings bywhom thou art surrounded: leave to their inventors those systems whichcan effect nothing towards thy felicity. Enjoy thyself, and cause othersalso to enjoy, those comforts which I have placed with a liberal hand, for all the children of the earth; who all equally emanate from mybosom: assist them to support the sorrows to which necessity hassubmitted them in common with thyself. Know, that I approve thypleasures, when without injuring thyself, they are not fatal to thybrethren, whom I have rendered indispensably necessary to thine ownindividual happiness. These pleasures are freely permitted thee, if thouindulgest them with moderation; with that discretion which I myself havefixed. Be happy, then, O man! Nature invites thee to participate in it;but always remember, thou canst not be so alone; because I invite allmortals to happiness as well as thyself; thou will find it is only insecuring their felicity that thou canst consolidate thine own. Such isthe decree of thy destiny: if thou shalt attempt to withdraw thyselffrom its operation, recollect that hatred will pursue thee; vengeanceovertake thy steps; and remorse be ever ready at hand to punish theinfractions of its irrevocable mandates. 

"Follow then, O man! in whatever station thou findest thyself, theroutine I have described for thee, to obtain that happiness to whichthou hast an indispensable right to challenge pretension. Let thesensations of humanity interest thee for the condition of other men, whoare thy fellow creatures; let thine heart have commisseration for theirmisfortunes: let thy generous hand spontaneously stretch forth to lendsuccour to the unhappy mortal who is overwhelmed by his destiny; alwaysbearing in thy recollection, that it may fall heavy upon thyself, as itnow does upon him. Acknowledge, then, without guile, that everyunfortunate has an inalienable right to thy kindness. Above all, wipefrom the eyes of oppressed innocence the trickling crystals of agonizedfeeling; let the tears of virtue in distress, fall upon thy sympathizingbosom; let the genial glow of sincere friendship animate thine honestheart; let the fond attachment of a mate, cherished by thy warmestaffection, make thee forget the sorrows of life: be faithful to herlove, responsible to her tenderness, that she may reward thee by areciprocity of feeling; that under the eyes of parents united invirtuous esteem, thy offspring may learn to set a proper value onpractical virtue; that after having occupied thy riper years, they maycomfort thy declining age, gild with content thy setting sun, cheer theevening of thine existence, by a dutiful return of that care which thoushalt have bestowed on their imbecile infancy. 

"Be just, because equity is the support of human society! Be good, because goodness connects all hearts in adamantine bonds! Be indulgent, because feeble thyself, thou livest with beings who partake of thyweakness! Be gentle, because mildness attracts attention! Be thankful, because gratitude feeds benevolence, nourishes generosity! Be modest, because haughtiness is disgusting to beings at all times well withthemselves. Forgive injuries, because revenge perpetuates hatred! Dogood to him who injureth thee, in order to shew thyself more noble thanhe is; to make a friend of him, who was once thine enemy! Be reserved inthy demeanor, temperate in thine enjoyment, chaste in thy pleasures, because voluptuousness begets weariness, intemperance engenders disease;forward manners are revolting: excess at all times relaxes the springsof thy machine, will ultimately destroy thy being, and render theehateful to thyself, contemptible to others. 

"Be a faithful citizen; because the community is necessary to thine ownsecurity; to the enjoyment of thine own existence; to the furtherance ofthine own happiness. Be loyal, but be brave; submit to legitimateauthority; because it is requisite to the maintenance of that societywhich is necessary to thyself. Be obedient to the laws; because they_are_, or _ought to be_, the expression of the public will, to whichthine own particular will ought ever to be subordinate. Defend thycountry with zeal; because it is that which renders thee happy, whichcontains thy property, as well as those beings dearest to thine heart:do not permit this common parent of thyself, as well as of thy fellowcitizens, to fall under the shackles of tyranny; because from thence itwill be no more than thy common prison. If thy country, deaf to theequity of thy claims, refuses thee happiness--if, submitted to an unjustpower, it suffers thee to be oppressed, withdraw thyself from its bosomin silence, but never disturb its peace. 

"In short, be a man; be a sensible, rational being; be a faithfulhusband; a tender father; an equitable master; a zealous citizen; labourto serve thy country by thy prowess; by thy talents; by thine industry;above all, by thy virtues. Participate with thine associates those giftswhich nature has bestowed upon thee; diffuse happiness, among thy fellowmortals; inspire thy fellow citizens with content; spread joy over allthose who approach thee, that the sphere of thine actions, enlivened bythy kindness, illumined by thy benevolence, may re-act upon thyself; beassured that the man who makes others happy cannot himself be miserable. In thus conducting thyself, whatever may be the injustice of others, whatever may be the blindness of those beings with whom it is thydestiny to live, thou wilt never be totally bereft of the recompensewhich is thy due; no power on earth be able to ravish from thee thatnever failing source of the purest felicity, inward content; at eachmoment thou wilt fall back with pleasure upon thyself; thou wilt neitherfeel the rankling of shame, the terror of internal alarm, nor find thyheart corroded by remorse. Thou wilt esteem thyself; thou wilt becherished by the virtuous, applauded and loved by all good men, whosesuffrages are much more valuable than those of the bewildered multitude. Nevertheless, if externals occupy thy contemplation, smilingcountenances will greet thy presence; happy faces will express theinterest they have in thy welfare; jocund beings will make theeparticipate in their placid feelings. A life so spent, will each momentbe marked by the serenity of thine own soul, by the affection of thebeings who environ thee; will be made cheerful by the friendship of thyfellows; will enable thee to rise a contented, satisfied guest from thegeneral feast; conduct thee gently down the declivity of life, lead theepeaceably to the period of thy days; for die thou must: but already thouwilt survive thyself in thought; thou wilt always live in theremembrance of thy friends; in the grateful recollection of those beingswhose comforts have been augmented by thy friendly attentions; thyvirtues will, beforehand have erected to thy fame an imperishablemonument: if heaven occupies itself with thee, it will feel satisfiedwith thy conduct, when it shall thus have contented the earth. 

"Beware, then, how thou complainest of thy condition; be just, be kind, be virtuous, and thou canst never be wholly destitute of felicity. Takeheed how thou enviest the transient pleasure of seductive crime; thedeceitful power of victorious tyranny; the specious tranquillity ofinterested imposture; the plausible manners of venal justice; the shewy, ostentatious parade of hardened opulence. Never be tempted to increasethe number of sycophants to an ambitious despot; to swell the catalogueof slaves to an unjust tyrant; never suffer thyself to be allured toinfamy, to the practice of extortion, to the commission of outrage, bythe fatal privilege of oppressing thy fellows; always recollect it willbe at the expence of the most bitter remorse thou wilt acquire thisbaneful advantage. Never be the mercenary accomplice of the spoilers ofthy country; they are obliged to blush secretly whenever they meet thepublic eye. 

"For, do not deceive thyself, it is I who punish, with an unerring hand, all the crimes of the earth; the wicked may escape the laws of man, butthey never escape mine. It is I who have formed the hearts, as well anthe bodies of mortals; it is I who have fixed the laws which governthem. If thou deliverest thyself up to voluptuous enjoyment, thecompanions of thy debaucheries may applaud thee; but I shall punish theewith the most cruel infirmities; these will terminate a life of shamewith deserved contempt. If thou givest, thyself up to intemperateindulgences, human laws may not correct thee, but I shall castigate theeseverely by abridging thy days. If thou art vicious, thy fatal habitswill recoil on thine own head. Princes, those terrestrial divinities, whose power places them above the laws of mankind, are neverthelessobliged to tremble under the silent operation of my decrees. It is I whochastise them; it is I who fill their breasts with suspicion; it is Iwho inspire them with terror; it is I who make them writhe underinquietude; it is I who make them shudder with horror, at the very nameof august truth; it is I who, amidst the crowd of nobles who surroundthem, make them feel the inward workings of shame; the keen anguish ofguilt; the poisoned arrows of regret; the cruel stings of remorse; it isI who, when they abuse my bounty, diffuse weariness over their benumbedsouls; it is I who follow uncreated, eternal justice; it is I who, without distinction of persons, know how to make the balance even; toadjust the chastisement to the fault; to make the misery bear its dueproportion to the depravity; to inflict punishment commensurate with thecrime. The laws of man are just, only when they are in conformity withmine; his judgements are rational, only when I have dictated them: mylaws alone are immutable, universal, irrefragable; formed to regulatethe condition of the human race, in all ages, in all places, under allcircumstances. 

"If thou doubtest mine authority, if thou questionest the irresistiblepower I possess over mortals, contemplate the vengeance I wreak on allthose who resist my decrees. Dive into the recesses of the hearts ofthose various criminals, whose countenances, assuming a forced smile, cover souls torn with anguish. Dost thou not behold ambition tormentedday and night, with an ardour which nothing can extinguish? Dost notthou see the mighty conquerer become the lord of devastated solitudes;his victorious career, marked by a blasted cultivation, reignsorrowfully over smoking ruins; govern unhappy wretches who curse him intheir hearts; while his soul, gnawed by remorse, sickens at the gloomyaspect of his own triumphs? Dost thou believe that the tyrant, encircledwith his flatterers, who stun him with their praise, is unconscious ofthe hatred which his oppression excites; of the contempt which his vicesdraw upon him; of the sneers which his inutility call forth; of thescorn which his debaucheries entail upon his name? Dost thou think thatthe haughty courtier does not inwardly blush at the galling insults hebrooks; despise, from the bottom of his soul, those meannesses by whichhe is compelled to purchase favours; feel at his heart's core thewretched dependence in which his cupidity places him. 

"Contemplate the indolent child of wealth, behold him a prey to thelassitude of unmeasured enjoyment, corroded by the satiety which alwaysfollows his exhausted pleasures. View the miser with an emaciatedcountenance, the consequence of his own penurious disposition, whosecallous heart is inaccessible to the calls of misery, groaning over theaccumulating load of useless treasure, which at the expense of himself, he has laboured to amass. Behold the gay voluptuary, the smilingdebaucheé, secretly lament the health they have so inconsideratelydamaged so prodigally thrown away: see disdain, joined to hatred, reignbetween those adulterous married couples, who have reciprocally violatedthe sacred vows they mutually pledged at the altar of Hymen; whoseappetencies have rendered them the scorn of the world; the jest of theiracquaintance; polluted tributaries to the surgeon. See the liar deprivedof all confidence; the knave stript of all trust; the hypocritefearfully avoiding the penetrating looks of his inquisitive neighbour;the impostor trembling at the very name of formidable truth. Bring underyour review the heart of the envious, uselessly dishonored; that withersat the sight of his neighbour's prosperity. Cast your eyes on the frozensoul of the ungrateful wretch, whom no kindness can warm, no benevolencethaw, no beneficence convert into a genial fluid. Survey the ironfeelings of that monster whom the sighs of the unfortunate cannotmollify. Behold the revengeful being nourished with venemous gall, whosevery thoughts are serpents; who in his rage consumes himself. Envy, ifthou canst, the waking slumbers of the homicide; the startings of theiniquitous judge; the restlessness of the oppressor of innocence; thefearful visions of the extortioner; whose couches are infested with thetorches of the furies. Thou tremblest without doubt at the sight of thatdistraction which, amidst their splendid luxuries, agitates thosefarmers of the revenue, who fatten upon public calamnity--who devour thesubstance of the orphan--who consume the means of the widow--who grindthe hard earnings of the poor: thou shudderest at witnessing the remorsewhich rends the souls of those reverend criminals, whom the uninformedbelieve to be happy, whilst the contempt which they have for themselves, the unerring shafts of secret upbraidings, are incessantly revenging anoutraged nation. Thou seest, that content is for ever banished theheart; quiet for ever driven from the habitations of those miserablewretches on whose minds I have indelibly engraved the scorn, the infamy, the chastisement which they deserve. But, no! thine eyes cannot sustainthe tragic spectacle of my vengeance. Humanity obliges thee to partakeof their merited sufferings; thou art moved to pity for these unhappypeople, to whom consecrated errors renders vice necessary; whose fatalhabits make them familiar with crime. Yes; thou shunnest them withouthating them; thou wouldst succour them, if their contumacious perversityhad left thee the means. When thou comparest thine own condition, whenthou examinest thine own soul, thou wilt have just cause to felicitatethyself, if thou shalt find that peace has taken up her abode with thee;that contentment dwells at the bottom of thine own heart. In short, thouseest accomplished upon them, as well as, upon thyself, the unalterabledecrees of destiny, which imperiously demand, that crime shall punishitself, that virtue never shall be destitute Of remuneration. "

Such is the sum of those truths which are contained in the _Code ofNature_; such are the doctrines, which its disciples can announce. Theyare unquestionably preferable to that supernatural superstition whichnever does any thing but mischief to the human species. Such is theworship that is taught by that sacred reason, which is the object ofcontempt with the theologian; which meets the insult of the fanatic; whoonly estimates that which man can neither conceive nor practise; whomake his morality consist in fictitious duties; his virtue in actionsgenerally useless, frequently pernicious to the welfare of society; whofor want of being acquainted with nature, which is before their eyes, believe themselves obliged to seek in ideal worlds imaginary motives, ofwhich every thing proves the inefficacy. The motive which the moralityof nature employs, is the self-evident interest of each individual, ofeach community, of the whole human species, in all times, in everycountry, under all circumstances. Its worship is the sacrifice of vice, the practise of real virtues; its object is the conservation of thehuman race, the happiness of the individual, the peace of mankind; itsrecompences are affection, esteem, and glory; or in their default, contentment of mind, with merited self-esteem, of which no power willever be able to deprive virtuous mortals; its punishments, are hatred, contempt, and indignation; which society always reserves for those whooutrage its interests; from which even the most powerful can nevereffectually shield themselves. 

Those nations who shall be disposed to practise a morality so wise, whoshall inculcate it in infancy, whose laws shall unceasingly confirm it, will neither have occasion for superstition, nor for chimeras. Those whoshall obstinately prefer figments to their dearest interests, willcertainly march forward to ruin. If they maintain themselves for aseason, it is because the power of nature sometimes drives them back toreason, in despite of those prejudices which appear to lead them on tocertain destruction. Superstition, leagued with tyranny, for the wasteof the human species, are themselves frequently obliged to implore theassistance of a reason which they contemn; of a nature which theydisdain; which they debase; which they endeavour to crush under theponderous bulk of artificial theories. Superstition, in all times sofatal to mortals, when attacked by reason, assumes the sacred mantle ofpublic utility; rests its importance on false grounds, founds its rightsupon the indissoluble alliance which it pretends subsists betweenmorality and itself; notwithstanding it never ceases for a singleinstant to wage against it the most cruel hostility. It is, unquestionably, by this artifice, that it has seduced so many sages. Inthe honesty of their hearts, they believe it useful to politics;necessary to restrain the ungovernable fury of the passions; thushypocritical superstition, in order to mask to superficial observers, its own hideous character, like the ass with the lion's skin, alwaysknows how to cover itself with the sacred armour of utility; to buckleon the invulnerable shield of virtue; it has therefore, been believedimperative to respect it, notwithstanding it felt awkward under theseincumbrances; it consequently has become a duty to favor imposture, because it has artfully entrenched itself behind the altars of truth;its ears, however, discover its worthlessness; its natural cowardicebetrays itself; it is from this intrenchment we ought to drive it; itshould be dragged forth to public view; stripped of its surreptitiouspanoply; exposed in its native deformity; in order that the human racemay become acquainted with its dissimulation; that mankind may have aknowledge of its crimes; that the universe may behold its sacrilegioushands, armed with homicidal poniards, stained with the blood of nations, whom it either intoxicates with its fury, or immolates without pity tothe violence of its passions. 

The MORALITY OF NATURE is the only creed which her interpreter offers tohis fellow citizens; to nations; to the human species; to future races, weaned from those prejudices which have so frequently disturbed thefelicity of their ancestors. The friend of mankind cannot be the friendof delusion, which at all times has been a real scourge to the earth. The APOSTLE OF NATURE will not be the instrument of deceitful chimeras, by which this world is made only an abode of illusions; the adorer oftruth will not compromise with falsehood; he will make no covenant witherror; conscious it must always be fatal to mortals. He knows that thehappiness of the human race imperiously exacts that the dark unsteadyedifice of superstition should be razed to its foundations; in order toelevate on its ruins a temple suitable to peace--a fane sacred tovirtue. He feels it is only by extirpating, even to the most slenderfibres, the poisonous tree, that during so many ages has overshadowedthe universe, that the inhabitants of this world will be able to usetheir own optics--to bear with steadiness that light which is competentto illumine their understanding--to guide their wayward steps--to givethe necessary ardency to their souls. If his efforts should he vain; ifhe cannot inspire with courage, beings too much accustomed to tremble;he will, at least, applaud himself for having dared the attempt. Nevertheless, he will not judge his exertions fruitless, if he has onlybeen enabled to make a single mortal happy: if his principles havecalmed the conflicting transports of one honest soul; if his reasoningshave cheered up some few virtuous hearts. At least he will have theadvantage of having banished from his own mind the importunate terror ofsuperstition; of having expelled from his own heart the gall whichexasperates zeal; of having trodden under foot those chimeras with whichthe uninformed are tormented. Thus, escaped from the peril of the storm, he will calmly contemplate from the summit of his rock, those tremendoushurricanes which superstition excites; he will hold forth a succouringhand to those who shall be willing to accept it; he will encourage themwith his voice; he will second them with his best exertions, and in thewarmth of his own compassionate heart, he will exclaim:

O NATURE; sovereign of all beings! and ye, her adorable daughters, VIRTUE, REASON, and TRUTH! remain for ever our revered protectors: it isto you that belong the praises of the human race; to you appertains thehomage of the earth. Shew, us then, O NATURE! that which man ought todo, in order to obtain the happiness which thou makest him desire. VIRTUE! Animate him with thy beneficent fire. REASON! Conduct hisuncertain steps through the paths of life. TRUTH! Let thy torch illuminehis intellect, dissipate the darkness of his road. Unite, O assistingdeities! your powers, in order to submit the hearts of mankind to yourdominion. Banish error from our mind; wickedness from our hearts;confusion from our footsteps; cause knowledge to extend its salubriousreign; goodness to occupy our souls; serenity to dwell in our bosoms. Let imposture, confounded, never again dare to shew its head. Let oureyes, so long, either dazzled or blindfolded, be at length fixed uponthose objects we ought to seek. Dispel for ever those mists ofignorance, those hideous phantoms, together with those seducingchimeras, which only serve to lead us astray. Extricate us from thatdark abyss into which we are plunged by superstition; overthrow thefatal empire of delusion; crumble the throne of falsehood; wrest fromtheir polluted hands the power they have usurped. Command men, withoutsharing your authority with mortals: break the chains that bind themdown in slavery: tear away the bandeau by which they are hoodwinked;allay the fury that intoxicates them; break in the hands of sanguinary, lawless tyrants, that iron sceptre with which they are crushed to exile;the imaginary regions, from whence fear has imported them, thosetheories by which they are afflicted. Inspire the intelligent being withcourage; infuse energy into his system, that, at length, he may feel hisown dignity; that he may dare to love himself; to esteem his own actionswhen they are worthy; that a slave only to your eternal laws, he may nolonger fear to enfranchise himself from all other trammels; that blestwith freedom, he may have the wisdom to cherish his fellow creature; andbecome happy by learning to perfection his own condition; instruct himin the great lesson, that the high road to felicity, is prudently topartake himself, and also to cause others to enjoy, the rich banquetwhich thou, O Nature! hast so bountifully set before him. Console thychildren for those sorrows to which their destiny submits them, by thosepleasures which wisdom allows them to partake; teach them to becontented with their condition; to banish envy from their mind; to yieldsilently to necessity. Conduct them without alarm to that period whichall beings must find; _let them learn that time changes all things, thatconsequently they are made neither to avoid its scythe nor to fear itsarrival. _

[TRANSLATOR'S APPENDIX]

A BRIEF SKETCH

OF THE

LIFE AND WRITINGS

OF

M. DE. MIRABAUD. 

At a time when we are on the eve of an important change in our politicalaffairs, which must evidently lead either to the recovery and re-establishment of our liberties, or to a military despotism, those whoare connected with the press ought to use every exertion to enlightentheir fellow-citizens, and to assert their right of canvassing, in themost free and unrestrained manner, every subject connected with thehappiness of man. 

The priesthood have ever been convenient tools in the hands of tyrants, to keep the bulk of the people in a degraded servility. By thesuperstitious and slavish doctrines which they infuse into their minds, they prevent them from thinking for themselves and asserting their ownindependence. At a moment when national schools are erecting in everyquarter of the country, not with a sincere desire of enlightening therising generation, but with the insidious design of instilling intotheir minds the doctrines of "Church and King, " in order to bolster up alittle longer the present rotten, tottering, and corrupt system: at amoment, too, when thousands of fanatic preachers are traversing thecountry, with a view to subjugate the human mind to the baleful empireof visonary enthusiasm and sectarian bigotry to the utter extinction ofevery noble, manly, liberal, and pilanthropic principle;--at such amoment as this, we thought that the "SYSTEM OF NATURE" could not fail torender essential service to the cause both of civil and religiousliberty. No work, ancient or modern, has surpassed it, in the eloquenceand sublimity of its language, or in the facility with which it treatsthe most abtruse and difficult subjects. It is, without exception, theboldest effort the human mind has yet produced, in the investigation ofmorals and theology--in the destruction of priestcraft and superstition--and in developing the sources of all those passions and prejudiceswhich have proved so fatal to the tranquillity of the world. 

The republic of letters has never produced an author whose pen was sowell calculated to emancipate mankind from all those trammels with whichthe nurse, the schoolmaster and the priest have successively locked uptheir noblest faculties, before they were capable of reasoning andjudging for themselves. The frightful apprehensions of the gloomy bigot, and all the appalling terrors of superstition, are here utterlyannihilated, to the complete satisfaction of every unbiassed andimpartial person. --These we considered as necessary observations tomake, previous to any attempt at the biography of the author. 

Biography may be reckoned among the most interesting of literaryproductions. Its intrinsic value is such, that, though capable ofextraordinary embellishment from the hand of genius, yet no inferiorityof execution can so degrade it, as to deprive it of utility. Whateverrelates even to man in general, considered only as an aggregate ofactive and intelligent beings, has a strong claim upon our notice; butthat which relates to our author, as distinguished from the rest of hisspecies, moving in a more exalted sphere, and towering above them by theresplendent excellencies of his mind, seems to me to be peculiarlycalculated for our contemplation, and ought to form the highest pleasureof our lives. There is a principle of curiosity implanted in us, whichleads us, in an especial manner, to investigate our fellow creatures;the eager inquisitiveness with which the mechanic seeks to know thehistory of his fellow-workmen and the ardour with which the philosopher, the poet, or the historian hunts for details that may familiarize himwith, a Descartes or a Newton, with a Milton, a Hume, or a Gibbon--spring from the same source. Their object, however, may perhaps vary;for, in the former, it may be for the sake of detraction, invidiouscavil, or malice; in the latter, it is a sweet homage paid by the humanheart to the memory of departed genius. 

It has been repeatedly observed that the life of a scholar affords fewmaterials for biography. This is only negatively true;--could everyscholar have a Boswell, the remark would vanish; or were every scholar aRousseau, a Gibbon, or a Cumberland it would be equally nugatory. Whatcan present higher objects of contemplation--what can claim moreforcibly our attention--where can we seek for subjects of a moreprecious nature, than in the elucidation of the operations of mind, theacquisition of knowledge, the gradual expansion of genius; itsapplication, its felicities, its sorrows, its wreaths of fame, its cold, undeserved neglect? Such scenes, painted by, the artist himself, are arich bequest to mankind: even when traced by the hand of friendship orthe pencil of admiration, they possess a permanent interest in ourhearts. I cannot conceive a life more worthy of public notice, moreimportant, more interesting to human nature, than the life of a literaryman, were it executed according to the ideas I have formed of it: did itexhibit a faithful delineation of the progress of intellect, from thecradle upwards; did it portray, in accurate colors, the production ofwhat we call genius: by what accident it was first awakened; what wereits first tendencies; how directed to a particular object; by what meansit was nourished and unfolded; the gradual progress of its operation inthe production of a work; its hopes and fears; its delights; itsmiseries; its inspirations; and all the thousand fleeting joys that sooften invest its path but for a moment, and then fade like the dews ofthe morning. Let it contain too a transcript of the many namelesstransports that float round the heart, that dance in the gay circlebefore the ardent gazing eye, when the first conception of some futureeffort strikes the mind; how it pictures undefined delights of fame andpopular applause; how it anticipates the bright moments of invention, and dwells with prophetic ecstasy on the felicitous execution ofparticular parts, that already start into existence by the magic touchof a heated imagination. Let it depict the tender feelings of solitude, the breathings of midnight silence, the scenes of mimic life, of imagedtrial, that often occupy the musing mind; let it be such a work, sodrawn, so coloured, and who shall pronounce it inferior? Who rather willnot confess that it presents a picture of human nature, where everyheart may find some corresponding harmony? When, therefore, it is said, that the life of a scholar is barren, it is so only because it has neverbeen properly delineated; because those parts only have been selectedwhich are common, and fail to distinguish him from the common man;because we have never penetrated into his closet, or into his heart;because we have drawn him only as an outward figure, and left unnoticedthat internal structure that would delight, astonish, and improve. Andthen, when we compare the life of such a man with the more active one ofa soldier, a statesman, or a lawyer, we pronounce it insipid, uninteresting. True;--the man of study has not fought for hire--he hasnot slaughtered at the command of a master: he would disdain to do so. Though unaccompanied with the glaring actions of public men, whichconfound and dazzle by their publicity, but shrink from the estimationof moral truth, it would present a far nobler picture; yes, and a moreinstructive one:--the calm disciple of reason meditates in silence; hewalks his road with innoxious humility; he is poor, but his mind is histreasure; he cultivates his reason, and she lifts him to the pinnacle oftruth; he learns to tear away the veil of self-love, folly, pride, andprejudice, and bares the human heart to his inspection; he corrects andamends; he repairs the breaches made by passion; the proud man passeshim by, and looks upon him with scorn; but he feels his own worth, thatennobling consciousness which swells in every vein, and inspires himwith true pride--with manly independence: to such a man I could soonerbow in reverence, than to the haughtiest, most successful candidate forthe world's ambition. But of such men, for the reason I have alreadymentioned, our information is scanty. While of others, who havecommanded a greater share of public notoriety, venal or mistakenadmiration has given more than we wished to know. Among these respectedindividuals of human nature, may be placed Mirabaud. Had Mirabaud beenan Englishman, who doubts but that we should have possessed at leastample details of the usual subjects of biographical notice; while allthat has been collected among his own countrymen, is a scanty memoir ina common dictionary. That we are doomed to remain ignorant of the lifeof such men, speaks a loud disgrace. --I lament it. 

JOHN BAPTISTE MIRABAUD, was born at Paris in the year 1674. Heprosecuted his infantile studies under the direction of his parents, andwas afterwards entered a member of the _Congregation of the Priests ofthe Oratory_, where he passed several years, and produced some very boldwritings, which were never intended for publication. 

He was subsequently appointed tutor to the princesses of the House ofOrleans, and then took the resolution of destroying the greater part ofthe manuscripts that he produced while a member of the _Congregation_;but the treachery of some of his friends, to whom he had confided hismanuscripts, rendered this precaution useless, for some of his workswere published during the time he remained the preceptor to his royalpupils; among which number may be reckoned his "New Liberties ofThought, " a work but little calculated for gaining him friends in thepurlieus of the Court of Orleans. The "Origin and Antiquity of theWorld, " in three parts, was also published at this period, and from thepublication of this work, may be dated the resolution of M. De Mirabaudto quit his office of preceptor, which he relinquished, having becomemore independent; he now gave himself up entirely to his philosophicalstudies, and produced the "System of Nature, " with which he was assistedby Diderot, D'Alembert, Baron D'Olbac, and others. 

The profound metaphysical knowledge displayed throughout the System ofNature, and the doctrines which are therein advanced, warrants theconclusion, that it is at once the most decisive, boldest, and mostextraordinary work, that the human understanding ever had the courage toproduce. The study of metaphysics his generally been considered the mostterrific to the indolent mind; but the clear and perspicuous reasoningof a Mirabaud, who has united the most profound argument, with the mostfascinating eloquence, charm and instruct us at the same time. But itwas not, to be expected that such doctrines as are contained in theSystem of Nature, would he advanced without meeting with some oppositionfrom the superficial and bigoted metaphysicians, who feel an interest inupholding a system of delusion and superstition. No! certainly not, Their interest was threatened, and their _craft_ in danger, and theconsequence was, that the _Atheist_ or _Disciple of Nature_, has beenabused with every scurrilous epithet, "full of sound and fury, signifying nothing. "

Atheism is stigmatized with having "opened a wide door for libertinism, destroying the social and moral compact; and striking a deadly blow atreligion. It is asserted that the atheist, who by his opinions hasdeprived himself of the hope and consolation of a future life, has nomotive for the practise of virtue, or to contribute to the well being ofsociety. Deprived of a chimera which religion every where presents him, he wanders through the cheerless gloom of scepticism, regardless of theconsequences of an abandoned life. Without a God, he acknowledges nobenefactor; without divine laws, he knows no rule for the conduct oflife, and submits to no law but his passions. An enemy to all socialorder, he spurns at human laws, and breaks through every barrier opposedto his wickedness. " Under such colours is an atheist painted: a shortdigression must be suffered to examine this picture, and to disprove theassertions so sweepingly made. 

I admit that atheism strikes a deadly blow at religion; because underthe cloak of religion, mankind have been oppressed in all ages; but thatit encourages libertinism, or destroys the "social and moral compact, " Ihave yet to learn. In all organized governments, men are restrained fromcrime and compelled to submission by laws supposed to be made for thegeneral benefit. These laws are the effect of the first formation ofsociety for mutual preservation. Here then is a sufficient motive forthe one as well as the other, to contribute to the well-being ofsociety. The laws of Nature are the same in effect on the atheist andthe religionist. If man be led captive by his passions, and giveshimself to debauchery and voluptuousness, nature will punish him withbodily infirmities and a debilitated mind. If he be intemperate, shewill shorten his days and bring him to the grave with the most poignantremorse. The fatal effects of his vicious propensities will fall uponhis own head. A disturber of social order will live in continual fear ofthe vengeance of society, and that very fear is a more dreadfulpunishment than the just vengeance which perhaps he escapes. It renderslife burdensome, and makes a man hateful to himself. Can men havestronger motives for the practise of virtue? The atheist is in fullpossession of these motives, and the religionist is most completelyswayed by them, whatever may be his pretensions to others derived fromreligion. But we are assured he has other motives; more powerfulincentives, in the promise of future rewards and punishments. This, likeall other chimerical doctrines, cannot be maintained if we look at thegeneral practise of mankind. Let us trace the effects of this doctrine, or rather let us examine the actions, conduct, and character of menprofessing it, and we shall see how little influence it has over them. The bulk of society believe they shall answer in a future life for thedeeds done in the present. Nay, I hardly think one in a hundred thousandwill say they doubt it. What then is its effect? With this dreadfulsentence, _"Thou shalt go into everlasting punishment, "_ continuallysounded in their ears, do we not daily see the greatest enormitiescommitted? Are not the most horrid crimes perpetrated in all parts ofthe world? The most vicious propensities and the most extravagantfollies are almost indiscriminately gratified. Is not vice frequentlytriumphant, and virtue compelled to seek her own reward in retirement?The laws of society are broken by the most flagrant injustice, and thelaws of nature outraged by the most shocking depravity. All this evilexists in nations believing themselves to be accountable beings afterdeath. Where then are the beneficial effects arising, to mankind fromthe promulgation of this doctrine? Men who cannot be restrained fromdoing evil by human laws, have no dread of any other. Their whole livesand conduct confirm this. Others who live in submission to the laws ofsociety, give themselves up to those vicious habits, (without fear ofdivine laws) which the law does not take cognizance of. Men, not whollydepraved, or not without the pale of society, generally respect thelaws, and fear the bad opinion of others. Hence we observe, wheninterest or passion leads them into secret vices, they invariably playthe hypocrite; and although they are aware of the denunciations of theirGod, whom they acknowledge is a witness to all their actions, while theypreserve their fair fame they still persevere. In fact, they live as ifthey disbelieved in his existence; and yet the greatest criminal, themost depraved wretch, would shudder at being told there is no God. Theatheist, as a man, is liable to commit the same crimes, and fall intothe same vices as the believer; but because he is an atheist, is he aworse criminal than the other? In one respect, I conceive he is not sobad. He only acts in defiance of _human_ laws, --he only offends men; theother infringes _both divine_ and _human_;--he defies both God and man. Both are injurious to society and themselves, and both are actuated bythe came motives. 

Again we are told, that the well disposed part of mankind are renderedmore virtuous, and the vicious less vicious by this doctrine. How are weto know that? If the virtuous man acts uprightly, does good to hisfellow creatures, restrains his passions, and returns good for evil, experience teaches him it is his interest so to do. Those who areviciously disposed are only deterred from crime by penal laws. Societiescannot long exist, where evil has the ascendency. Without social laws, this would really be the case, notwithstanding the threats of anavenging God. If men were told they would not be answerable for the evilcommitted in this life to human laws, but that God would punish themafter death, it is evident the human race would soon be exterminated. Onthe other hand, tell them their crimes will never be punished by God, or, in other words, there is no other God than NATURE, but that the lawsof men will avenge the offences against society; so long as those lawsare administered with justice and impartiality, so long will suchsociety continue to improve. Hence it is evident that the system whichwill maintain order in society by itself, must be the best and mostrational. A good government without religion would be more solid andlasting, and tend more to the preservation of mankind, than all thetheocratical or ecclesiastical governments that ever the world wassubject to. --Thus much for the opponents of atheism. 

It has been asserted with a perverse obstinacy, by the advocates for theexistence of a deity, that the SYSTEM OF NATURE was never written by theauthor whose name it bears. --It is granted that it was not publishedduring his life: but that circumstance forms no reason why such aconclusion should be drawn. The persecutions which the atheists haveendured, were a sufficient excuse for the work not appearing in any formduring the life time of its venerable author. The Athenians sought totry Diagoras the Melian, for atheism; but he fled from Athens, and aprice was offered for his head. Protagoras was banished from Athens, andhis books burnt, because he ventured to assert, that he knew nothing ofthe gods. Stephen Dolet was burnt at Paris for atheism. Giordano Brunowas burnt by the Inquisitors in Italy. Lucilio Vanini was burnt atThoulouse, through the kind offices of an Attorney-General. Bayle wasunder the necessity of fleeing to Holland. Casimio Liszynski wasexecuted at Grodno;--and Akenhead at Edinborough. And the body of theeloquent and erudite Hume, was obliged to be watched many nights by hisfriends, lest it should be taken up by the fanatics, who considered himone of the greatest monsters of iniquity, because he did not happen tobelieve as they believed. --With these pictures of Christian persecutionbefore his eyes, is it surprising that M. De Mirabaud should adopt theresolution of suffering the SYSTEM OF NATURE to appear as a posthumouswork? That the same fate would have attended him, the most devoutChristian will not undertake to deny. 

However the sentiments of M. De Mirabaud may be condemned by thefanatics, all those who knew him bear the most brilliant testimony ofhis integrity, candour, and the soundness of his understanding; in aword, to his social virtues, and the innocence of his manners. He dieduniversally regretted, at Paris, the twenty-fourth of June, 1760, in theeighty-sixth year of his age. 

The following works, written by him at different periods, were neverpublished:--_The Life of Jesus Christ. Impartial Reflections on theGospel. The Morality of Nature. An Abridged History of the Priesthood;Ancient and Modern. The Opinions of the Ancients concerning the Jews. _ Awretched mutilated edition of this last work was published at Amsterdam, in 1740, in two small volumes, under the title of _MiscellaneousDissertations_. 

FINIS.