in vain that it aims
at the annihilation of human nature, which is so much stronger, so
much more powerful, than imagination. In despite of all the subtile
and marvellous speculations of the priests, man continues always to
love himself, to desire his well being, and to flee misfortune and
sorrow. He has then always been actuated by the same passions. When
these passions have been moderate, and have tended to the public
good, they are legitimate, and we approve those actions which are
their effects. When these passions have been disordered, hurtful to
society, or to the individual, he condemns them; they punish him; he
is dissatisfied with his conduct which others cannot approve. Man
always loves his pleasures, because in their enjoyment he fulfils the
end of his existence; if he exceeds their just bounds he renders
himself miserable.

The morality of the clergy, on the other hand, appears calculated to
keep nature always at variance with herself, for it is almost always
without effect even on the priesthood. Their chimeras serve but to
torture weak minds, and to set the passions at war with nature and
their dogmas. When this morality professes to restrain the wicked, to
curb the passions of men, it operates in opposition to the established
laws of natural religion; for by preserving all its rigor, it becomes
impracticable; and it meets with real devotees only in some few
fanatics who have renounced nature, and who would be singular, even if
their oddities were injurious to society. This morality, adopted for
the most part by devotees, without eradicating their habits or their
natural defects, keeps them always in a state of opposition even with
themselves. Their life is a round of faults and of scruples, of sins
and remorse, of crimes and expiations, of pleasures which they enjoy,
but for which they again reproach themselves for having tasted. In a
word, the morality of superstition necessarily carries with it into
the heart and the family of its devotees inward distress and
affliction; it makes of enthusiasts and fanatics scrupulous devotees;
it makes a great many insensible and miserable; it renders none
perfect, few good; and those only tolerable whom nature, education,
and habit had moulded for happiness.

It is our temperament which decides our condition; the acquisition of
moderate passions, of honest habits, sensible opinions, laudable
examples, and practical virtues, is a difficult task, but not
impossible