Part 10
Fanaticism and religion have not any connection, though very often these ideas are found united. It is not the worship of the common Father of men; it is not the morality of the gospel, whose precepts lead to goodness and forbearance, which inspires the spirit of persecution; we should attribute it to a blind madness, resembling all those wild errors and crimes which dishonour humanity. But since, at present, the excesses to which men abandon themselves do not induce us to condemn, as a misfortune, all the sentiments of which the criminal passions are only the extreme, why do we wish to refuse religion the gratitude which is its due, because sometimes it has given birth to hatred and unhappy divisions? It would be necessary rather to remark, that intolerant zeal is, of all the errors of the human mind, that on which the progress of our knowledge appears to have had most influence. In fact, whilst fanaticism, gradually weakened, seems to be now verging to its decline, the disorders connected with the common passions of ambition, love of wealth, and thirst of pleasure, remain in all their force. However, what sentiment, what predominant idea, has a greater claim to pardon for its mistakes than devotion? By what an infinite number of benefits the pure spirit of religion makes amends for the abuses which spring from the false interpretation of its precepts. It is to this spirit, as we have shown, that men owe the stability of public order and the firm principles of justice: it procures the indigent the succours of charity, and virtue its encouragement; oppressed innocence its only refuge, and sensibility its dearest hopes. Yes, the pure spirit of religion surrounds us on every side, it makes the charm, of solitude, the band of society, the invigorater of intimate affections; and can we calumniate it and wish to destroy it, on recollecting the tyrannic opinions of some priests and sovereigns, whose principles and conduct we now detest?
I shall further remark, and ask why men denounce a sentence of reprobation against religion, and give as the motive, the ancient wars of which it has been the origin; whilst they never contest the importance of commerce, though rivers of blood have been continually shed for the smallest advantage on this account? Can they be so mistaken in their judgment, as to compare a few pecuniary advantages, which one political state never enjoys, but at the expence of another, with those, as precious as they are universal, of which religion is the origin and support?
In short, among the various arguments that are employed to attack these opinions, the most frivolous, undoubtedly, is that which derives all its force from the errors and faults of which the present times do not furnish any example. What should we say if, at the moment when a superb edifice was firm on its foundation, we should be exhorted to level it with the ground, by a relation of all the accidents its erection occasioned?
Throwing then a painful retrospect on the period of history, when religion was made the pretext of wars and cruelty; let us oppose to the return of those sanguinary scenes, let us oppose to the spirit of intolerance all the force of wisdom, and the instructions of that religion which they pretend to serve by a blind zeal. But far from freeing us from the respect which we owe to such salutary opinions, which men have abused, let us take advantage of experience, as a new defence against the wanderings of our imaginations, and the surprises of our passions[2].
CHAP. IX. _Another Objection examined. The Sabbath._
I do not intend to place among the objections I ought to discuss, nor in the number of arguments, that it is important to examine, the various opinions on such and such parts of religious worship, nor the difficulties raised against the adoption of some dogmatic notion, thought essential by some, and considered with indifference by others: it is not a treatise of controversial theology which I wish to compose; and it is still less the doctrines of one particular church, which I would oppose to that of another; all of them connect morality to the commands of a Supreme Being; they all of them see in the public worship the respectful expression of a sentiment of love and gratitude towards the Author of Nature. Thus, those who might think they perceived some imperfections in the system, or in the forms of worship, adopted in a nation, should not use this objection to dispute the utility of religion, since the reflections, which have been just made on its importance, may be applied equally to the doctrines of all countries, and the principles of every sect.
I shall dwell then on the only difficulty which interests, without distinction, the different religions of Europe.
The establishment of public worship, and the necessity of consecrating at least one day in every week, occasions, say some, a suspension of labour too frequent; and this suspension injures the state, and diminishes the resources of the people.
I may at first observe, that such objections would appear very weak, if compared with the great advantages which men owe to religion! An increase of wealth can never outweigh order, morality, and happiness. But I must go further to prove, that a day of rest, devoted amongst us to public worship, cannot injure the political strength; and that so far from being contrary to the interests of the people, it protects and favours them; and as I invariably prefer such interests to all others, I shall begin by demonstrating, in a few words, the justness of this proposition.
We should be mistaken if we thought, that in a given space of time, men forced, by the inequality of conditions, to live by their labour, would, by observing the precepts of religion, better their situation, if they were not obliged to rest from labour one day in every week.
It is necessary, in order to perceive this truth, to examine, first, what is now the measure of wages; it is not an exact proportion between labour and its reward. In fact, if we consulted only the light of reason and equity, no one, I believe, would dare to decide, that the most scanty necessaries is the just price of fatiguing and painful labour, which commences at the dawn, and does not finish till the setting of the sun: we should not be able to maintain, that in the midst of his enjoyments, and in the bosom of luxurious idleness, the rich ought not to grant any other retribution to those who sacrifice their time and strength to increase their revenue and multiply their enjoyments. It is not then by the principles of common sense or reflection, that the wages of the generality have been fixed; it is a compact established by power, a yoke to which the weak must submit. The possessor of a vast domain would see all his riches vanish, if numerous labourers did not come to cultivate his estate, and carry into his store-house the fruit of their toil; but, as the number of men without property is immense, their concurrence, and the pressing need that they have to labour for a subsistence, obliges them to receive the law from him who can, in the bosom of ease, wait quietly for their services; and it results from this habitual relation between the rich and poor, that the wages for hard labour are constantly reduced to the most scanty allowance, that is to say, to what is only sufficient to satisfy their daily and indispensable wants.
This system once settled, if it were possible, that, by a revolution in our nature, men could live and preserve their strength without allotting every day some hours to repose and sleep, it is beyond doubt, that the work of twenty hours would be required for the same wages now granted for twelve.
Or, by an assimilation, agreeing with the hypothesis I have just mentioned, suppose that a moral revolution permitted labourers to work the seventh day, they would consequently, in a short time, require of them the extraordinary labour at the former rate; and this levelling would take place through the gradual diminution of the price of labour. The class of society, which, in exerting its power, has regulated the present wages, not according to reason and equity, but according to the necessities of the labourers, would quickly discern its own interest; and that when a day more was paid for, the people could bear a diminution of the seventh part of their wages, and be in their old state. Thus, though before the change had thoroughly taken place, all those who live by labour would think that they had acquired a new resource; yet they would soon be brought to their former condition; for it is the same with social order as with the law of equilibrium in nature, which combines ranks and places, every thing according to the immutable law of the proportion of force.
Men, devoid of property, after having been some time deceived, would only get an increase of work by the abolition of the Sabbath; and as this truth does not present itself naturally to the mind, we ought to consider, as an essential service of religion, its having secured the greater number of men from a degree of oppression, to which they would have run blindly, if they had been at liberty to make a choice.
The daily labour of one class of society surpasses the reasonable measure of its strength, and hastens the days of decripitude; it was then absolutely necessary that the customary course of these labours should be, for a time, suspended; but as the people, pressed by wants of every kind, are exposed to be seduced by the slightest appearance of advantage, it was further necessary to their happiness, that the interruption of thier fatigues, fixed by a religious duty, appeared not to them the voluntary sacrifice of fortune, and did not leave in them any regret. In short, they are pleased when they think of those days of rest, which produce a little alteration in their manner of living; and they require that alteration, not to be depressed by a continual train and repetition of the same occupations. Thus, were you to assert artfully, that the people are not as comfortable of a Sunday, as during the week, it would be at least true, that one is softened by the expectation of the other; there are people so very wretched, and probably, on that account, so bounded are their desires, that the most trifling variety is a substitute for hope. It seems to me, that the hearts of the common people may be sometimes cheered with the thought of being once a week dressed like their superiors; when they are absolute masters of their time, and can say,—and I also—I am free[3].
I must now examine the second proposition which I have mentioned.
You have made obvious, some will say, that an augmentation of the days of labour would occasion a reduction of the wages allowed for it, we may then reasonably ask, if this result would not favour commerce, and contribute, in some respect, to increase the political strength? Undoubtedly you may consider under this point of view, the diminution of the reward of industry; but the political strength being always a relative idea, and derived from comparisons with other states, this strength can never be augmented or diminished by a circumstance common to all the countries of Europe. Were a barbarous ambition to abolish in one state the Sabbath, the abolition would probably procure it a degree of superiority, if it was the only one that adopted such a change; but as soon as others followed their example, the advantage would disappear. However, the same arguments ought to serve to convince us, that those countries, where the intervals of inaction occur oftener, have necessarily a political disadvantage, with regard to others, where Sunday and a few solemn feasts are the only days of rest prescribed by government.
We may conclude from these observations, that so far from finding fault with religion for appointing a day of rest, devoted every week to public worship, we ought to acknowledge with pleasure, that such an institution is a benevolent act, extended to the most numerous class of the inhabitants of the earth, the most deserving our consideration and protection; from which we require so much, and return so little: towards that unfortunate class, whose youth and maturity the rich profit by, and abandon them when the hour is come, when they have no more strength left but to enable them to pray and weep.
CHAP. X. _An Observation on a particular Circumstance of public Worship._
It is not sufficient, that sovereigns are persuaded of the influence of religion on the morality and happiness of men; they ought to make use of proper means to maintain this salutary action; and, of course, every part of public worship becomes of the greatest importance. Educated in a religion, thought by some to approach nearer the first ideas of christianity, yet as it has adopted several principles by no means consonant with the Catholic faith, it would be unwise in me to discuss any of the questions which divide the two churches; and I should do it without any good accruing from it, so much are we disposed to refer to early prejudices, the ideas which are most intimately blended with the sentiments and feeling of a man; we like to take a general view, and this method agrees with our indolence; but it leads us often astray. I think, however, that the minds of the people are now sufficiently enlightened, to permit me to advise the superiors of both church and state, to examine attentively, if it is not full time to make more use of the vulgar tongue, and if we are not warned, by the present depravity of morals, to alter the manner of performing divine service in this respect.
It is only during an interval of the grand mass that the priest addresses to country people some words of exhortation in their own language; it was natural to consider this moment as the most proper to dispose the mind to respect and attention; but perhaps, even the pomp of an august ceremony, by attracting strongly the imagination, withdraws the generality from the importance of the other parts of divine worship; and it frequently happens in country places, that many people go out of the church during the sermon, and return at the moment of consecration.
I think also, that public prayers should always be in the vulgar tongue, and they might easily be made interesting and affecting, as there are not any religious discourses which sympathize more with human weakness; and as our wants and anxieties may be made use of to raise us towards the Supreme Being, the best of all bands might be chosen to win the multitude.
I must observe besides, that part of the country people, especially in harvest time, and other seasons, when the husbandman is particularly busy, assist only at early mass, and then they see but a part of the religious ceremonies[4]. And, if the practice and liberty of working on a Sunday was more extended, the inhabitants of the country, still more confined to the first mass, would hear neither prayers nor instructive discourses in their own language during the whole year.
Certainly there must be something altered in these religious institutions in order to make them more efficaciously serve to support morality, and comfort the most numerous class of the human race. Country people, whose labour produces our wealth, ought to be taken care of with paternal anxiety; and since they are not exposed to those disorderly passions which find nourishment in a metropolis; since mild and prudent means still suffice to maintain them in the habit of duty; both the superiors in church and state have to answer, in some measure, for the corruption of their manners and dispositions.
CHAP. XI. _That the single Idea of a God is a sufficient Support of Morality._
After having shown that morality has need of a supernatural support, you have reason to expect, that I should explain the intimate and immediate relation which unites religion to the love of virtue, and the observance of order. I will endeavour, then, to discuss this important question; and in order to arrive at the truth, I shall follow first the course of those simple sentiments and natural thoughts, which guide the mind and the heart of man, in every climate and country under heaven.
It is easy to unite all the moral legislation, and the entire system of our duties, by means only of the idea of a God.
The universe, notwithstanding its magnificence and its immensity, would be a mere nothing, if its Supreme Author had not peopled it with intelligent beings, capable of contemplating so many wonders, and of receiving happiness from them; but the faculties with which we are endowed, consciousness of possessing them, and the liberty to act, all announce to us that we are united to a grand combination, that we have a part to take on the vast stage of the world.
The most simple reason, that which resembles instinct, would have been sufficient to enable us to take care of the body, and to have concentred us in ourselves; more would not have been necessary for those who have so little to do. Thus, when I see that the mind is susceptible of continual improvement, when I see that men enjoy the power of assisting each other, and of communicating their ideas, in a manner so much superior to other animals; when I fix my attention on our social dispositions, and on all the relative qualities which compose our nature, I cannot avoid thinking, that we have a plan of conduct to follow towards others, and that in our pilgrimage on earth we must be circumspect, having obstacles to conquer, sacrifices to make, and obligations to fulfil.
Men then appear to be led to religion by the most excellent gifts of nature, and by all that they have in them of the sublime; but we ought to remark, as a singular resemblance, that their wants also, and their extreme weakness, lead them to the same object.
Whatever may be my emotions, when I reflect on the present imperious laws to which I am obliged to submit, and when I recal to mind the grandeur and magnificence which I have been a witness of, I raise continually my soul towards the Sovereign Director of events, and am led by instinct, as well as by a rational sentiment, to address my prayers to Him. It appears to the unfortunate, when they view so many wonders which their understanding cannot grasp, that so little is wanting to guard them from the dangers which threaten them, they implore the commiseration of Him whose formidable power bursts from all sides. But, while they admire and adore, they must imitate His perfections, and not expect mercy when they show none. Purity of heart only can render an intercourse with the Supreme Being interesting; and prayers are merely a solemn kind of mockery, when they do not produce virtue and forbearance, when they do not render us kindly affected to each other; our very state of dependence, our wants and weaknesses, should bind us to those beings who equally share the blessings so liberally bestowed, and have the same evils to endure. Thus discontent, the fear of futurity, the anxiety caused by misfortunes, all the sentiments, which engage men to disturb social order, take another character, or are at least sensibly modified; when, from their first suffering, they can elevate their wishes to God, but dare not do it, with a heart sullied by criminal intentions.
It is not only prayer which leads us to religion; another communication with the Supreme Being, gratitude, produces the same effect. A man, persuaded of the existence of a sovereign power, and who gladly connects with the divine protection his success and happiness, feels, at the same time, a desire to express his gratitude; and not being able to do any thing for him who bestows all, he seeks to form an idea of the perfections of that Supreme Being, in order to comprehend the system of conduct most conformable to his attributes. At first, what reflections possess our mind, what emotions agitate our souls, when we contemplate the universe? When we respectfully admire that magnificent harmony, which is the incomprehensible result of an innumerable multitude of different powers: struck with this vast whole, where we discover an agreement so perfect, how is it possible for us to avoid considering order as a distinct mark of the wisdom and of the design of Omnipotence? And how is it possible for us not to think, that we render him the most worthy homage, at the time we make use of the free intelligence which he has endowed us with. Then in the composition of a social structure, a work which has been entrusted to us, we shall try to penetrate the ideas of wisdom and order, of which all nature presents such a grand example; then, in establishing the relations which unite men, we shall carefully study the laws of moral order, and we shall find them all founded on the reciprocation of duties, which submit to a regular movement different jarring personal interests. In short, the idea of a God, Creator, Regenerator, and Preserver of the Universe, by invariable laws, and by a train of the same causes and the same effects, seems to call us to the conception of a universal morality, which, in imitation of the unknown springs of the natural world, may be as the necessary tie of this succession of intelligent beings, who always, with the same passions, come to pass and repass on the earth, to seek, or to fly, to assist, or to hurt each other, according to the strength or the weakness of the knot which unites them, and according to the wisdom or inconsistency of the principles which direct their opinions.