OF THE
IMPORTANCE
OF
RELIGIOUS OPINIONS.

CHAP. I.
On the Connection of Religious Principles with public Order.

We know not distinctly the origin of most political societies; but as soon as history exhibits men united in a national body, we perceive, at the same time, the establishment of public worship, and the application of religious sentiments, to the maintenance of good order and subordination. Religious sentiments, by the sanction of an oath, bind the people to the magistrates, and the magistrates to their engagements; they inspire a reverential respect for the obligations contracted between sovereigns; and these sentiments, still more authoritative than discipline, attach the soldier to his commander; in short, religious opinions, by their influence on the manners of individuals, have produced an infinite number of illustrious actions and instances of heroical disinterestedness, of which history has transmitted us the remembrance. But as we have seen a philosophy spring up among nations the most enlightened, anxiously employed in depriving religion of all that merited respect, dissertations on times far removed from us, and the various systems that they would endeavour violently to associate with religion, would become an endless source of controversy. It is then, by reasoning alone, by that exercise of the mind, which belongs equally to all countries and all ages, that we can support the cause which we have taken in hand to defend. There is, perhaps, something weak and servile in our wishing to draw assistance from ancient opinions; reason ought not, like vanity, to adorn herself with old parchments, and the display of a genealogical tree; more dignified in her proceeding, and proud of her immortal nature, she ought to derive every thing from herself; she should disregard past times, and be, if I may use the phrase, the contemporary of all ages.

It was reserved, particularly for some writers of our age, to attack even the utility of religion; and to seek to substitute, instead of its active influence, the inanimate instruction of a political philosophy. Religion, say they, is a scaffold fallen into ruins, and it is high time to give to morality a more solid support. But what support will that be? we must, in order to discover, and form a just idea of it; distinctly consider the different motives of action on which depend the relations that subsist between men; and it will be necessary to estimate, afterwards, the kind and degree of assistance which we may reasonably expect from a like support.

It appears to me, that in renouncing the efficacious aid of religion, we may easily form an idea of the means that they will endeavour to make use of to attach men to the observance of the rules of morality, and to restrain the dangerous excesses of their passions. They would, undoubtedly, place a proper value on the connection which subsists between private and general interest; they would avail themselves of the authority of laws, and the fear of punishment; and they would confide still more in the ascendency of public opinion, and the ambition, that every one ought to have, of gaining the esteem and confidence of his fellow-creatures.

Let us examine separately these different motives; and first, attentively considering the union of private with public interest, let us see if this union is real, and if we can deduce from such a principle any moral instruction truly efficacious.

Society is very far from being a perfect work; we ought not to consider as an harmonious composition the different relations of which we are witnesses, and particularly the habitual contrast of power and weakness, of slavery and authority, riches and poverty, of luxury and misery; so much inequality; such a motly piece could not form an edifice respectable for the justness of its proportions.

Civil and political order is not then excellent by its nature, and we cannot perceive its agreement, till we have deeply studied, and formed to ourselves those reflections which legislators had to make, and the difficulties that they had to surmount. It is then only, with the assistance of the most attentive meditation, that we discover how those particular relations, which are established by social laws, form, nevertheless, that system of equilibrium, which is most proper to bind together an immense diversity of interests; but a great obstacle to the influence of political morality is, the necessity of giving, for the basis of the love of order, an abstract and complicated idea. What effect on vulgar minds would the scientific harmony of the whole have, opposed daily to the sentiment of injustice and inequality, which arises from the aspect of every part of the social constitution, when we acquire the knowledge of it, in a manner solitary and circumscribed; and how limited is the number of those, who can continually draw together all the scattered links of this vast chain!

It could not be avoided, in the best regulated societies, that some should enjoy, without labour or difficulty, all the conveniencies of life; and that others, and far the greater number, should be obliged to earn, by the sweat of their brow, a subsistence the most scanty, and a recompense the most confined. It is not to be prevented, that some will find, when oppressed by sickness, all the assistance which officious tenderness and skill can afford; whilst others are reduced to partake, in public hospitals, the bare relief that humanity has provided for the indigent. We cannot prevent some from being in a situation to lavish on their families all the advantages of a complete education; whilst others, impatient to free themselves from a charge so heavy, are constrained to watch eagerly for the first appearance of natural strength, to make their children apply to some profitable labour. In short, we cannot avoid perpetually contrasting the splendour of magnificence with the tatters which misery displays. Such are the effects, inseparable from the laws, respecting property. These are truths, the principles of which I have had occasion to discuss in the work which I composed on administration and political œconomy; but I ought to repeat them here, since they are found closely connected with other general views. The eminent power of property is one of the social institutions, the influence of which has the greatest extent; this consideration was applicable to the commerce of grain; it ought to be present to the mind, in disquisitions on the duties of administration; and it is still more important, when the question is to be examined, what kind of moral instruction may be proper for mankind?

In effect, if it appertains to the essence of the laws of right, constantly to introduce and maintain an immense disparity in the distribution of property; were it an essential part of these laws, to reduce the most numerous class of citizens, to that which is simply the most necessary; the inevitable result of such a constitution would be, to nourish, amongst men, a sentiment of habitual envy and jealousy. Vainly would you demonstrate, that these laws are the only ones capable of exciting labour, animating industry, preventing disorder, and opposing obstacles to arbitrary acts of authority; all these considerations sufficient, we grant, to fix the opinion and the will of the legislator, would not strike in the same manner the man thrown on the earth, without property, without resources, and without hopes; and he will never render free homage to the beauty of the whole, when there is nothing for him but deformity, abjectness, and contempt.

Men, in most of their political reasonings, are deceived by resemblances and analogies: the interest of society is certainly composed of the interests of all its members; but it does not follow from this explication, that there is an immediate and constant correspondence between the general and private interest; such an approximation, could only be applicable to an imaginary social state; and which we might represent as divided into many parts, of which the rich would be the head, and the poor the feet and hands: but political society is not one and the same body, except under certain relations, whilst, relatively to other interests, it partakes in as many ramifications of them as there are individuals.

Those considerations, to which we annex an idea of general interest, would be very often susceptible of numberless observations; but the principles, we are accustomed to receive and transmit, in their most common acceptation; and we discover not the mixt ideas which compose them, but at the moment when we analyze the principles, in order to draw consequences from them, in like manner as we perceive not the variety of colours in a ray of light, till the moment we divide them by means of a prism.

The formation of social laws, with reason, ought to appear one of our most admirable conceptions; but this system is not so united in all its parts, that a striking disorder would always be the necessary effect of some irregular movement: thus the man, who violates the laws, does not quickly discover the relation of his actions with the interest of society; but at the instant enjoys, or thinks to joy, the fruit of his usurpations.

Should a theatre be on fire, it is certainly the interest of the assembly that every one go out with order; but if the people, most distant from the entrance, believed they should be able to escape sooner from the danger, by forcing their way through the crowd which surrounds them, they would assuredly determine on this violence, unless a coercive power prevented them; yet the common utility of restricting ourselves to order in such circumstances, would appear an idea more simple, and more distinct, than is the universal importance of maintaining civil order in society.

The only natural defence of this order, is government; its function obliges it ever to consider the whole; but the need which it has of power to carry its decrees into execution, proves evidently, that it is the adversary of many, even when acting in the name of all.

We are then under a great illusion, if we hope to be able to found morality on the connection of private interest with that of the public; and if we imagine, that the empire of social laws can be separated from the support of religion. The authority of these laws has nothing decisive for those who have not assisted to establish them; and were we to give to the hereditary distinctions of property an origin the most remote, it is no less true, on this account that the poor succeeding inhabitants of the earth, struck with the unequal division of its rich domains, and not perceiving the limits and lines of separation traced by nature, would have some right to say; these compacts, these partitions, this diversity of lots, which procures to some abundance and repose; to others, poverty and labour; all this legislation, in short, is only advantageous to a small number of privileged men; and we will not subscribe to it, unless compelled by the fear of personal danger. What are then, they would add, these ideas of right and wrong, with which we are entertained? What are these dissertations on the necessity of adopting some order in society, and of observing rules? Our mind bends not to those principles, which, general in theory, become particular in practice. We find some satisfaction and compensation, when the idea of virtue, of submission, and of sacrifice, are united to religious sentiments; when we believe we shall render an account of our actions to a Supreme Being, whose laws and will we adore, and from whom we have received every thing, and whose approbation presents itself to our eyes, as a motive of emulation, and an object of recompense: but if the contracted bounds of life limit the narrow circle in which all our interest ought to confine itself, where all our speculations and our hopes terminate, what respect owe we then to those whom nature has formed our equals? To those men sprung from lifeless clay, to return to it again with us, and to be lost for ever in the same dust? They have only invented these laws of justice, to be more tranquil usurpers. Let them descend from their exalted rank, that they may be put on our level, or, at least, present us with a partition less unequal, and we shall then be able to conceive, that the observance of the laws of right is of importance to us; till then, we shall have just motives for being the enemies of civil order, which we find so disadvantageous; and we do not comprehend how, in the midst of so many gratifications which excite our envy, it is, in the name of our own interest, that we ought to renounce them.

Such is the secret language which men, overwhelmed with the distress of their situation, would not fail to use; or those who, merely in a state of habitual inferiority, found themselves continually hurt by the splendid sight of luxury and magnificence.

It would not be an easy task to combat these sentiments, by endeavouring to paint forcibly the vanity of pleasure in general, and the illusion of most of those objects which captivate our ambition, and the apathy which follows in their train. These reflections, without doubt, have their weight and efficacy; but if we attentively consider the subject, every thing that deserves the name of consolation in this world, cannot be addressed with any advantage; but to minds prepared for mild sentiments, by an idea of religion and of piety, more or less distinct; we cannot, in the same manner, relieve the barren and ferocious despondency of an unhappy and envious man, who has thrown far behind him all hope. Concentred in the bare interests of a life, which is for him eternity, and the universe itself; it is the passion of the moment which enslaves him, and nothing can disengage him from it; he has not the means to catch any vague idea, nor of being content; and as even reason has need, every instant, of the aid of the imagination, he cannot be encouraged, either by the discourse of his friends, or his own reflections.

Besides, if we can maintain, in general, that the allotments of happiness and misery are more equal than we imagine; if we can reasonably advance, that labour is preferable to idleness; if we can say, with truth, that embarrassments and inquietudes often accompany wealth, and that contentment of mind appears to be the portion of the middle state of life; we ought to acknowledge, at the same time, that these axioms are only perfectly just in the eyes of the moralist, who considers man in a comprehensive point of view, and who makes his calculation upon a whole life: but, in the recurrence of our daily desires and hopes, it is impossible to excite to labour by the expectation of fortune, and detract, at the same time, this fortune, in decrying the pleasures and conveniences that it procures. These subtle ideas, without excepting those which may be defended, can never be applicable to real circumstances; and if we sometimes use with success such kind of reflections to alleviate unavailing sorrow and regret, it is when we have only shadows to cope with.

In short, when we have reduced to precept, all the well known reflections, on the apparent, but delusive advantages of rank and fortune, we cannot prevent uncultivated minds from being continually struck with the extreme inequality of the different contracts which the rich make with the poor; it might be said, in those moments, that one portion of mankind was formed only for the convenience of another; the poor man sacrifices his time and his strength to multiply round the rich gratifications of every kind; and he, when he gives in exchange the most scanty subsistence, does not deprive himself of any thing; since the extent of his physical wants is bounded by the laws of nature: equality then is only re-established by the lassitude and apathy which the enjoyment even of pleasure produces. But these disgusts compose the back ground in the picture of life; the people perceive them not; and as they have only been acquainted with want, they cannot form any idea of the langour attendant on satiety.

Will any one imprudently say, that if the distinctions of property are an obstacle to the establishment of a political system of morality, we ought, therefore, to labour to destroy them? But if in past ages, when the different degrees of talents and knowledge were not so unequal, men were not able to preserve a community of possessions, can you imagine, that these primitive relations could be re-established at a time when the superiority of rank and power is enforced by the immoveable strength of disciplined armies?

Besides, when even in the composition of an ideal world, we should have introduced the most exact division of the various possessions esteemed by men, it would still be necessary, to preserve a system of real equality, that every one should execute faithfully the duties imposed on him by universal morality; since this is incumbent on every individual, for the sacrifice that all the members of society have made; which society ought to recompense every citizen in particular, for the restriction to which he submits himself.

It is essential to observe still further, that it is not only personal interest, when clearly understood, which ought to be annexed to the idea of public order; it is the same interest when led astray by the passions, then a mere guide is no longer sufficient; a yoke must be imposed; a check always acting, which must be used absolutely. Nothing can be more chimerical than to pretend to restrain a man, hurried on by an impetuous imagination, by endeavouring to recal to his remembrance some principles and instructions, which, in the terms of an academic thesis[1], ought to be the result of analysis, of methodizing, of the art of dividing, of developing, and circumscribing ideas.

It would be, at present, a hardy enterprize, to attempt to conduct men by reason alone, since the first thing that reason discovers is its own weakness; but when we want to rest on maxims which admit of controversy; when we wish to oppose to the strong motive of personal interest, a moral consideration which cannot act but with the concurrence of profound reflection; we recollect the doctrine of the first œconomists, who, in establishing the extravagant principles respecting an exclusive right of exporting or monopolizing grain, put off the care of preventing popular commotions till they should happen.

It appears to me, that false reasoning, on the union of private with public interest, arises from applying to the present state of society, the principles which have served as the base for their formation; this very natural confusion is one grand source of error. Let us try to render clear a proposition, which, at first, appears difficult to comprehend; and in this light we will suppose, for a moment the future generation assembled in idea, in an imaginary world, and ignorant before they inhabit the earth, who those individuals are that shall be born of parents loaded with the gifts of fortune, and those who are beset with misery from their cradle. They are instructed in the principles of civil rights, and the convenience of the laws of order, has been represented to them, and a sketch is drawn of the disorder, which would be the inevitable consequence of a continual variation in the division of property; then all those who are to compose the new generation, equally uncertain of the lot that the chance of birth reserves for them, subscribe unanimously to those events which await them; and at the very moment in which the relations of society exist only in speculation, it might be truly said, that the personal interest is lost in the public; but this identity ceases, when each, arrived on the earth, has taken possession of his lot; it is then no longer possible, that the various personal interests should concur to the maintenance of these prodigious gradations of rank and fortune, which are derived from the chance of birth; and those to whom cares and wants have fallen, will not be resigned to the inferiority of their condition, but by a grand religious principle alone, which can make them perceive an eternal justice, and place them in imagination before time, and before the laws.

There is nothing so easy, as the establishment of conventions, and making rules to be observed, till the moment of the drawing of a lottery; every one then, at the same point of view, finds all good, all just, and well contrived, and peace reigns by common agreement; but as soon as the blanks and prizes are known, the mind changes, the temper grows sour; and without the check of authority, it would become unmanageable, envious, quarrelsome, and sometimes unjust and violent.

We see, however, the consequence to be drawn from the preceding reflections; that political societies in contemplation, and in reality, present to our observation two different periods; and as these periods are not separated by any apparent limits, they are almost always confounded in the mind of the political moralist. He who believes in the union of private interest with that of the public, and who celebrates this harmony, has only considered society in its general and primitive plan; he who thinks, on the contrary, that the whole is wrong and discordant, because there is a great difference of power and fortune, has considered it only under its actual vicissitudes. Both these mistakes have received a sanction from celebrated writers. The man hurried away by a lively imagination, and strongly impressed by present objects, has been struck by the inequality of conditions; and the philosopher, who, transported by his abstractions beyond the circle of human society, has only perceived those relations and principles which led men to form the first institution of civil laws. Thus, every where we see, that most disputes relate to mere difference of positions, and to the various points of view in which the same subject is considered; there are so many stations in the moral world, that, according to that which we choose, the picture changes entirely.

Hitherto we have endeavoured to understand the effect which we might expect from a system of morality, by applying this kind of instruction only to private interest, when most clearly ascertained. It remains now to show, that every species of education, which demands time and reflection, cannot belong, in any manner, to the class of men most numerous; and to be sensible of this truth, it is sufficient to turn our attention on the social state of those who are destitute of property, and talents which might supply its place; obliged to have recourse to hard labour, where nothing is required but to employ their bodily strength, their concurrence, and the power of riches reduce the wages of this numerous class to what is absolutely necessary; they cannot without difficulty support their children, and they may well be impatient of qualifying them for useful occupations to relieve themselves; and this prevents their being sent to public schools, except during their infancy: thus, ignorance and poverty are in the midst of our societies, and the hereditary lot of the greater part of the citizens; there is only to be found an alleviation of this general law, in those countries where the constitution of the government encourages the high price of labour, and gives the poor some means of resisting the despotism of fortune. However, if such is the inevitable effect of our civil and political legislation, how shall we be able to bind men without distinction, to the maintenance of public order, by any instruction, I do not say complicated, but to which the exercise of long reasoning forms only a necessary introduction? It would not be sufficient to endow institutions; it would be still more necessary to pay the scholars for their time; since, for the lower class, time is, even very early in life, their only means of subsistence.

Nevertheless, morality is not, like other human sciences, a knowledge, that we may be at liberty to acquire at our leisure; the quickest instruction is still too slow, since man has a natural power of doing evil before his mind is in a state to apply to reflection, and connect the most simple ideas.

It is not then a political catechism which would be proper for the instruction of the people; it is not a course of precepts founded on the union of public and private interest, which can suit with the measure of their understanding; when a doctrine of that kind would appear as just as it seems to me liable to be disputed, they will never be able to render the principles of it distinct enough, to apply them to the purposes of instructing those whose education continues for so short a time. Morality, founded on religion, by its active influence, is precisely adapted to the particular situation of the greater number of men; and this agreement is so perfect, that it seems one of the remarkable features of universal harmony. Religion alone has power to persuade with celerity, because it excites passion, whilst it informs the understanding, because it alone has the means of rendering obvious what it recommends; because it speaks in the name of God, and it is easy to inspire respect for him, whose power is every where evident to the eyes of the simple and skilful, to the eyes of children, and men advanced to maturity.

In order to attack this truth, let it not be said, that the idea of a God is of all others the most incomprehensible; and if it is possible to derive useful instruction from so metaphysical a principle, we ought to expect more good from precepts which depend on the common relations of life. Such an objection is a mere subtilty; the distinct knowledge of the essence of a God, the creator of the world, is, undoubtedly above the comprehension of men of every age, and all faculties; but it is not the same with the vague idea of a heavenly power, who punishes and who rewards; parental authority, and the helplessness of infancy, prepare us early for ideas of obedience and command; and the world is such a stupendous wonder, a theatre of such continual prodigies, that it is easy to annex, at an early period, hope and fear to the idea of a Supreme Being. Thus, the infinity of a God, creator and director of the universe, is so far from having power to divert our respect and adoration, that even the clouds with which he invelopes himself, lend a new force to religious sentiments. A man often remains uninterested amidst: the discoveries of his reason; but it is always easy to move him, whenever we address ourselves to his imagination; for this faculty of our mind excites us continually to action, by presenting to our eyes a great space, and by keeping us always at a certain distance from the object we have in view. Man is so disposed to wonder at a power, of which he is ignorant of the springs; this sentiment is so natural to him, that what we ought to guard against the most in his education, is the inconsiderate insinuation of various terrors, of which he is susceptible. Thus, not only the true idea of the existence of an All-powerful God, but mere credulous faith in superstitious opinions, will always have more power over the common class of men, than abstract precepts, or general considerations. I know not even, if it might not be said, with truth, that the future of this short life, when we contemplate it, is further from us than the distant perspective offered to the mind by religion; because our imagination is less restrained, and the minutest description of reason can never equal in power, the lively and impulsive ardour of the affections of our souls.

I resume the series of my reflections, and set down here an important observation: which is, that the more the increase of taxes keeps the people in despondency and misery, the more indispensable is it to give them a religious education; for it is in the irritation of wretchedness, that we all have need of a powerful restraint and of daily consolations. The successive abuse of strength and authority, in overturning all the relations which originally existed between men, have raised, in the midst of them, an edifice so artificial, and in which there reigns so much disproportion, that the idea of a God is become more necessary than ever, to serve as a leveller of this confused assemblage of disparities; and if we can ever imagine, that a people should exist, subject only to the laws of a political morality, we should represent, without doubt, a rising nation, which would be restrained by the vigour of patriotism in its prime; a nation which would occupy a country where riches had not had time to accumulate; where the distance of the habitations from each other contributed to the maintenance of domestic manners; where agriculture, that simple and peaceful occupation, would be the favourite employment; where the work of the hands would obtain a recompense proportioned to the scarcity of the workmen, and the extensive usefulness of the labour; we should represent, in short, a nation where the laws and the form of government would favour, during a long time, equality of rank and property. But in our ancient kingdoms in Europe, where the growth of riches continually augments the difference of fortunes and the distance of conditions;—in our old political bodies, where we are crowded together, and where misery and magnificence are ever mingled, it must be a morality, fortified by religion, that shall restrain these numerous spectators of so many possessions and objects of envy, and who, placed so near every thing which they call happiness, can yet never aspire to it.

It may be asked, perhaps, in consequence of these reflections, whether religion, which strengthens every tie, and fortifies every obligation, is not favourable to tyranny? Such a conclusion would be unreasonable; but religion, which affords comfort under every affliction, would necessarily sooth also the ills which arise from despotism; however, it is neither the origin, nor the support of it: religion, well understood, would not lend its support but to order and justice; and the instructions of political morality proposes to itself the same end. Thus, in both plans of education, the rights of the sovereign, as well as those of the citizens, constitute simply one of the elementary parts of the general system of our duties.

I shall only observe, that the insufficiency of political morality would appear still more obvious, in a country where the nation, subject to the authority of an absolute prince, would have no share in the government; for personal interest no longer having an habitual communication with the general interest, there would be just ground to fear, that in wishing to hold out the union of these two interests as the essential motive of virtue, the greater number would retain only this idea, that personality was admitted for the first principle; and consequently every one ought to reserve to himself the right of judging of the times and circumstances when self-love and patriotism are to be separated, or united. And how many errors would not this produce? Public good, like all abstract ideas, has not a precise definition; it is for the greater part of mankind a sea without bounds, and it requires not much address or shrewdness to confound all our analogies. We may know how we would form, according to our taste, the alliance of all the moral ideas, in considering with what facility men know how to reconcile with one quality the habitual infirmities of their character; he who wounds without discretion, prides himself in his frankness and courage; he who is cowardly and timid in his sentiments and in his words, boasts of his caution and circumspection; and by a new refinement of which I have seen singular examples, he who asks of the sovereign pecuniary favours, endeavours to persuade him that he is impelled to this solicitation, only by a noble love of honourable distinction; every one is ingenious in fixing the point of union which connects his passions with some virtue: would they then be less expert at finding some conformity between their own interest and that of the public?

I cannot, I avow, without disgust, and even horror, conceive the absurd notion of a political society, destitute of that governing motive afforded by religion, and restrained only by a pretended connexion of their private interest with the general. What circumscribed judges! What a multiplicity of opinions, sentiments, and wills! All would be in confusion, if we left to men the liberty of drawing their own conclusions: they must absolutely have a simple idea to regulate their conduct, especially when the application of this principle may be infinitely diversified. God in delivering his laws on Mount Sinai, had need but to say, Thou shalt not steal; and with the awful idea of that God, whom every thing recals to our minds, whom every thing impresses on the human heart, this short commandment preserves, at all times, a sufficient authority; but when political philosophy says, Thou shalt not steal, it would be necessary to add to this precept a train of reasoning, on the laws of right, on the inequality of conditions, and on the various social relations; in order to persuade us that it comprehends every motive, that it answers all objections, and resists all attacks. It is necessary, further, that by the lessons of this philosophy the most uncultivated minds should be qualified to follow the different ramifications which unite, disunite, and reunite afresh the personal to the public interest: what an enterprize! It is, perhaps, like wishing to employ a course of anatomy, in order to direct a child in the choice of such aliments as are proper for it, instead of beginning to conduct it by the counsels and the authority of its mother.

The same remarks are applicable to all the virtues, of which the observance is essential to public order: what method would plain reasoning take to persuade a single man, that he ought not to deprive a husband of the affections of his wife? Where would you assign him a distinct recompense for the sacrifice of his passion? What windings should we not be obliged to run over, to demonstrate to an ambitious man, that he ought not, in secret, to calumniate his rival; to the solitary miser, armed with indifference, that he ought not to remove himself from every occasion of doing good; to a disposition ardent and revengeful, that he ought not to obey those urgent impulses which hurry him away; to a man in want, that he ought not to have recourse to falsehood to procure attention, or to deceive in any other manner? And how many other positions would offer the same difficulties, and still greater? Abstract ideas, the best arranged, can never conquer us but by long arguments, since the peculiar nature of these ideas is to disengage our reasoning from the feelings, and consequently from striking and sudden impressions; besides, political morality, like every thing which the mind only produces, would be always for us merely an opinion; an opinion from which we should have a right to appeal, at any time, to the tribunal of our reason. The lessons of men are nothing but representations of their judgment; and the sentiments of some draw not the will of others. There is not any principle of morality, which, under forms absolutely human, would not be susceptible of exceptions, or of some modification; and there is nothing so compounded as the idea of the connexion of virtue with happiness: in short, while our understanding has a difficulty in comprehending and clearly distinguishing that union, the objects of our passions are every where apparent, and all our senses are preengaged by them. The miser beholds gold and silver; the ambitious man, those honours which are conferred on others; the debauchee, the objects of his luxury; virtue has nothing left but reasoning; and is then in want of being sustained by religious sentiments, and by the enlivening hopes which accompany them.

Thus, in a government where you would wish to substitute political morality for a religious education, it would become, perhaps, indispensable to guard men from receiving any ideas calculated to exalt their minds; it would be necessary to divert them from the different competitions which excite self-love and ambition; they must withdraw themselves from the habitual society of women; and it would be still more incumbent on them to abolish the use of money, that attracting and confused image of all kinds of gratifications: in short, in taking from men their religious hopes, and depriving them thus of the encouragements to virtue which the imagination gives birth to, every exertion must be tried to prevent this unruly imagination from seconding vice, and all the passions contrary to public order: it was because Telemachus was accompanied by a Divinity, that he could, without danger, visit the sumptuous court of Sesostris, and the enchanting abodes of Eucharis and Calypso.

It is indeed an age the most pleasant, as well as the safest of our life, which we cannot pass without a guide; we must then, in order to pass with security through the tempestuous days of youth, have principles which command us, and not reflections to counsel us; these have not any power but in proportion to the vigour of the mind, and the mind is only formed by experience and a long conflict of opinions.

Religious instructions have the peculiar advantage of seizing the imagination, and of interesting our sensibility, those two brilliant faculties of our early years: thus, then even supposing that we could establish a course of political morality, sufficiently propped by reasoning, for defending from vice men enlightened by maturity, I should still say, that a similar philosophy would not be suitable to youth, and that this armour is too heavy for them.

In short, the lessons of human wisdom, which cannot govern us during the ardour of our passions, are equally insufficient, when our strength being broken by disease, we are no longer in a state to comprehend a variety of relations; instead of which, such is the pleasing emotions that accompany the language of religion, that in the successive decline of our faculties, this language still keeps pace with them.

Nevertheless, if we were ever to be persuaded, that there was on earth a more certain encouragement to virtue than religion, its powers would be immediately weakened; it would not be half so interesting, nor could reign when divided; if its sentiments did not overflow, as we may say, the human heart, all its influence would vanish.

Religious instruction, in assembling all the means proper to excite men to virtue, neglects not, it is true, to point out the relations, which exist between the observance of the laws of morality and the happiness of life; but it is as an accessary motive, that these considerations are presented; and it is not necessary to support them by the same proofs as a fundamental principle requires. Also, when people are taught early that vices and crimes lead to misery on earth, these doctrines make not a lasting impression on them, but in proportion as we succeed at the same time, in convincing them of the constant influence of a Providence over all the events of this world.

One important reason still exempts religious professors, from attaching themselves to demonstrate, that the principal advantages which excite the envy of men, are an absolute consequence of the observance of the laws of order: it is, that sacrifices, supported by an idea of duty, are changed into real satisfactions; and the sentiments, which the virtuous enjoy from piety, compose an essential part of their happiness. But what consolation can a man have by way of return; what secret approbation can we grant him, when we know not any other authority than that of political morality, and when virtue is nothing but an opposition between private and public interest?

Religion certainly proposes to man his own happiness, as an object and ultimate end; but as this happiness is placed at a distance, religion conducts us to it by wholesome restrictions and temporary sacrifices; it regards only the sublimest part of us, that which disunites us from the present moment, in order to connect us with futurity; it offers us hopes, which withdraw us from worldly interest, so far as is necessary to prevent us from being immoderately devoted to the disorderly impressions of our senses, and the tyranny of our passions. Irreligion, on the contrary, whose lessons teach us, that we are only masters of the present moment, concentres us more and more within ourselves, and there is nothing beautiful or good in this condition; for grandeur, of every kind, relates to the extent of those relations which we comprehend; and, in a like acceptation, our sentiments submit to the same laws.

Those who represent the obligations of religion as indifferent, assure us, that we may repose safely the maintenance of morality on some general sentiments, which we have adopted; but do not consider that these sentiments derive their origin, and almost all their force, from that spirit of religion which they wish to weaken. Yes, even humanity, this emotion of a noble soul, is animated and fortified by the idea of a Supreme Being; the alliance between men holds but feebly from the conformity of their organization; nor can it be attributed to the similitude of their passions, that continual source of so much hatred; it depends essentially on our connexion with the same author, the same superintendant, the same judge; it is founded on the equality of our right to the same hopes, and on that train of duties inculcated by education, and rendered respectable by the habitual dominion of religious opinions. Alas! it is a melancholy avowal, that men have so many infirmities, so much injustice, selfishness, and ingratitude, at least, in the eyes of those who have observed them collectively, that we never can keep them in harmony by the mere lessons of wisdom: it is not always because they are amiable that we love them; it is sometimes, and very often indeed, because we ought to love them, that we find them amiable. Yes, goodness and forbearance, these qualities the most simple, still require to be compared, from time to time, with an idea general and predominate, the band of all our virtues. The passions of others wound us in so many ways, and there is often so much depth and energy in our self-love, that we have need of some succour to be constantly generous in our sentiments, and to be really interested for all our fellow-creatures, in the midst of whom we are placed.

In short, not to dissemble, if a man once came to consider himself as a being that is the child of chance, or of blind necessity, and tending only to the dust from whence he sprung, and to which he must return, he would despise himself; and far from seeking to rise to noble and virtuous reflections, he would consider this species of ambition as a fantastic idea, which consumes in a vain and illusory manner, a part of those fleeting minutes which he has to pass on earth; and all his attention being fixed on the shortness of life, and on the eternal silence which must close the scene, he would only think how to devour this reign of a moment.

How dangerous then would it be, on this supposition, to show to men the extremity of the chain which unites them together! It is in worldly affairs this knowledge of having received the last favour, which renders them ungrateful towards those from whom they no longer expect any thing; and the same sentiment would weaken the power of morality if our lease was manifestly only for this world. It is then religion which ought to strengthen those ties, and defend the entire system of our duty against the stratagems of reasoning and the artifices of our minds; it is necessary, in order to oblige all men, to consider with respect the laws of morality, to teach them early that the social virtues are an homage rendered to the perfections and to the beneficent intentions of the Sovereign Author of Nature, of that Infinite Being who is pleased with the preservation of order, and the private sacrifices which the accomplishment of this grand design requires. And when I see modern philosophers tracing, with an able hand, the general plan of our duties; when I see them fix with judgment the reciprocal obligations of citizens, and giving, at last, for the basis to this legislation, personal interest and the love of praise: I recollect the system of those Indian philosophers, who, after having studied the revolutions of the heavenly bodies, being perplexed to determine the power which sustained the vaulted firmament, thought they had freed it from difficulty, by placing the universe on the back of an elephant, and this elephant on a tortoise. We shall imitate these philosophers, and, like them, shall never proceed but by degradation, whenever, by endeavouring to form a chain of duties and moral principles, we do not place the last link above worldly considerations, and beyond the limits of our social conventions.