religion_, or _deism_, is himself
the greatest of mysteries.

112.

Every revealed religion is filled with mysterious dogmas, unintelligible
principles, incredible wonders, astonishing recitals, which appear to have
been invented solely to confound reason. Every religion announces a hidden
God, whose essence is a mystery; consequently, the conduct, ascribed to
him, is no less inconceivable than his essence. The Deity has never spoken
only in an enigmatical and mysterious manner, in the various religions,
which have been founded in different regions of our globe; he has
everywhere revealed himself only to announce mysteries; that is, to
inform mortals, that he intended they should believe contradictions,
impossibilities, and things to which they were incapable of affixing any
clear ideas.

The more mysterious and incredible a religion is, the more power it has
to please the imagination of men. The darker a religion is, the more it
appears divine, that is, conformable to the nature of a hidden being, of
whom they have no ideas. Ignorance prefers the unknown, the hidden, the
fabulous, the marvellous, the incredible, or even the terrible, to what is
clear, simple, and true. Truth does not operate upon the imagination in so
lively a manner as fiction, which, in other respects, everyone is able to
arrange in his own way. The vulgar like to listen to fables. Priests and
legislators, by inventing religions and forging mysteries have served the
vulgar people well. They have thereby gained enthusiasts, women and fools.
Beings of this stamp are easily satisfied with things, which they are
incapable of examining. The love of simplicity and truth is to be
found only among the few, whose imagination is regulated by study and
reflection.

The inhabitants of a village are never better pleased with their parson,
than when he introduces Latin into his sermon. The ignorant always
imagine, that he, who speaks to them of things they do not understand, is
a learned man. Such is the true principle of the credulity of the people,
and of the authority of those, who pretend to guide nations.

113.

To announce mysteries to men, is to give and withhold; it is to talk in
order not to be understood. He, who speaks only obscurely, either seeks to
amuse himself by the embarrassment, which he causes, or finds his interest
in not explaining himself too clearly. All secrecy indicates distrust,
impotence, and fear. Princes and their mi