be humane? The arbiters, the sovereigns of society, are they faithful in
recompensing, punctual in rewarding, those who have best served their
country? in punishing those who have pillaged, who have robbed, who have
plundered, who have divided, who have ruined it? Justice, does she hold
her scales with a firm, with an even hand, between all the citizens of
the state? The laws, do they never support the strong against the weak--
favor the rich against the poor--uphold the happy against the miserable?
In short, is it an uncommon spectacle to behold crime frequently
justified, often applauded, sometimes crowned with success, insolently
triumphing, arrogantly striding over that merit which it disdains, over
that virtue which it outrages? Well then, in societies thus constituted,
virtue can only be heard by a very small number of peaceable citizens, a
few generous souls, who know how to estimate its value, who enjoy it in
secret. For the others, it is only a disgusting object; they see in it
nothing but the supposed enemy to their happiness, or the censor of
their individual conduct.

If man, according to his nature, is necessitated to desire his welfare,
he is equally obliged to love and cherish the means by which he believes
it is to be acquired: it would be useless, it would perhaps be unjust,
to demand that a man should be virtuous, if he could not be so without
rendering himself miserable. Whenever he thinks vice renders him happy,
he must necessarily love vice; whenever he sees inutility recompensed,
crime rewarded--whenever he witnesses either or both of them honored,--
what interest will he find in occupying himself with the happiness of
his fellow-creatures? what advantage will he discover in restraining the
fury of his passions? Whenever his mind is saturated with false ideas,
filled with dangerous opinions, it follows, of course, that his whole
conduct will become nothing more than a long chain of errors, a tissue
of mistakes, a series of depraved actions.