Nothing Is So Improving To The Temper

[priests Are] The Pretenders To Power And Dominion, And To A Superior Sanctity Of Character, Distinct From Virtue And Good Morals.

Anything That Is Conceivable Is Possible.

But The Most Common Species Of Love Is That Which First Arises From Beauty, And Afterwards Diffuses Itself Into Kindness And Into The Bodily Appetite. Kindness Or Esteem, And The Appetite To Generation, Are Too Remote To Unite Easily Together. The One Is, Perhaps, The Most Refined Passion Of The Soul; The Other The Most Gross And Vulgar. The Love Of Beauty Is Placed In A Just Medium Betwixt Them, And Partakes Of Both Their Natures: From Whence It Proceeds, That It Is So Singularly Fitted To Produce Both.

It Forms A Strong Presumption Against All Supernatural And Miraculous Relations, That They Are Observed Chiefly To Abound Among Ignorant And Barbarous Nations; Or If A Civilized People Has Ever Given Admission To Any Of Them, That People Will Be Found To Have Received Them From Ignorant And Barbarous Ancestors.

These Arguments On Each Side (and Many More Might Be Produced) Are So Plausible, That I Am Apt To Suspect, They May, The One As Well As The Other, Be Solid And Satisfactory, And That Reason And Sentiment Concur In Almost All Moral Determinations And Conclusions.