s extorted from
their industry? In exchange for their riches and benefits, what do they
give them but mysteries, hypotheses, ceremonies, subtle questions, and
endless quarrels, which states are again compelled to pay with blood?

175.

Religion, though said to be the firmest prop of Morality, evidently
destroys its true springs, in order to substitute imaginary ones,
inconceivable chimeras, which, being obviously contrary to reason, nobody
firmly believes. All nations declare that they firmly believe in a God,
who rewards and punishes; all say they are persuaded of the existence of
hell and paradise; yet, do these ideas render men better or counteract
the most trifling interests? Every one assures us, that he trembles at
the judgments of God; yet every one follows his passions, when he thinks
himself sure of escaping the judgments of Man. The fear of invisible
powers is seldom so strong as the fear of visible ones. Unknown or remote
punishments strike the multitude far less forcibly than the sight of
the gallows. Few courtiers fear the anger of their God so much as the
displeasure of their master. A pension, a title, or a riband suffices to
efface the remembrance both of the torments of hell, and of the pleasures
of the celestial court. The caresses of a woman repeatedly prevail over
the menaces of the Most High. A jest, a stroke of ridicule, a witticism,
make more impression upon the man of the world, than all the grave notions
of his Religion.

Are we not assured that _a true repentance_ is enough to appease the
Deity? Yet we do not see that this _true repentance_ is very sincere;
at least, it is rare to see noted thieves, even at the point of death,
restore goods, which they have unjustly acquired. Men are undoubtedly
persuaded, that they shall fit themselves for eternal fire, if they cannot
insure themselves against it. But, "Some useful compacts may be made with
heaven." By giving the church a part of his fortune, almost every devout
rogue may die in peace, without concerning himself in what he gained his
riches.

176.

By the confession of the warmest defenders of Religion and of its utility,
nothing is more rare than sincere conversions, and, we might add, nothing
more unprofitable to society. Men are not disgusted with the world, until
the world is disgusted with them.

If the devout have the talent of pleasing God and his priests, they
have seldom that of being agreeable or useful to society.