eached together,
confounds the God of the Creation with the imagined God of the
Christians, and lives as if there were none.
Of all the systems of religion that ever were invented, there is none
more derogatory to the Almighty, more unedifying to man, more repugnant
to reason, and more contradictory in itself, than this thing called
Christianity. Too absurd for belief, too impossible to convince, and too
inconsistent for practice, it renders the heart torpid, or produces only
atheists and fanatics. As an engine of power, it serves the purpose of
despotism; and as a means of wealth, the avarice of priests; but so
far as respects the good of man in general, it leads to nothing here or
hereafter.
The only religion that has not been invented, and that has in it every
evidence of divine originality, is pure and simple deism. It must have
been the first and will probably be the last that man believes. But pure
and simple deism does not answer the purpose of despotic governments.
They cannot lay hold of religion as an engine but by mixing it with
human inventions, and making their own authority a part; neither does it
answer the avarice of priests, but by incorporating themselves and their
functions with it, and becoming, like the government, a party in the
system. It is this that forms the otherwise mysterious connection of
church and state; the church human, and the state tyrannic.
Were a man impressed as fully and strongly as he ought to be with the
belief of a God, his moral life would be regulated by the force of
belief; he would stand in awe of God, and of himself, and would not do
the thing that could not be concealed from either. To give this belief
the full opportunity of force, it is necessary that it acts alone. This
is deism.
But when, according to the Christian Trinitarian scheme, one part of God
is represented by a dying man, and another part, called the Holy Ghost,
by a flying pigeon, it is impossible that belief can attach itself to
such wild conceits. [The book called the book of Matthew, says, (iii.
16,) that the Holy Ghost descended in the shape of a dove. It might as
well have said a goose; the creatures are equally harmless, and the one
is as much a nonsensical lie as the other. Acts, ii. 2, 3, says, that
it descended in a mighty rushing wind, in the shape of cloven tongues:
perhaps it was cloven feet. Such absurd stuff is fit only for tales of
witches and wizards.--Author.]
It has been the sche
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