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Published by J, D U F F Y Aaglesea. S* Dublin

SERMONS,

AND

MOEAL DISCOURSES,

ON THE

IMPORTANT DUTIES OF CHRISTIANITY.

TRANSLATED FROM THE FRENCH OF

PEREvBOURDALOUE, S.I

BY THE REV. A. CARROLL, S.J.

PREACH THE WORD : BE INSTANT IN SEASON, OUT OF SEASON ; REPROVE,
ENTREAT, REBUKE IN ALL PATIENCE AND DOCTRINE. — 2 Tim. C.iv. V. 2.

SECOND EDITION.

VOL. I.

DUBLIN :

PUBLISHED BY JAMES DUFFY,

25, ANGLESEA STREET.

M.DCCC.XLIIL

I

\thholi

CONTENTS, y.OL. I.

PREFACE v

SERMON I — On the Birth of Christ, 9

The angel said unto them : fear not, for behold I bring you tidings of great joy ,
that shall be to all people : for this day is born to you, in the city of David,
a Saviour, who is Christ the Lord. Luke xi.

SERMON II On the Passion of our Saviour, 25

The Jews require a sign ; and the Greeks seek after wisdom ; but we preach
Christ crucified, unto the Jews a scandal, and unto the Greeks foolishness,
but unto them who are called, both Jews and Greeks, Christ, the power of
God and the wisdom of God. 1 Cor. i.

SERMON III — On the Resurrection of our Lord, 49 j^y

The angel making answer, said to the women : ye seek Jesus of Nazareth, who
was crucified; he is risen, he is not here ; behold the place where they laid
him. Mark xvi.

SERMON IV — On the Coming Down of the Holy Ghost, 71

They were all filled with the Holy Ghost. Acts ii.

SERMON V.— On the Word of God, - 94

He that is of God, heareth the words of God. John viii,

SERMON VI.— On Faith, 116

Jesus said to the centurion : go thy way, and as thou hast believed so be it done
to thee. Matth. viii.

SERMON VII.— On the Christian Religion, - - - 136

Certain of the scribes and of the pharisees answered him, saying : Master, we
would see a sign from thee. Who answering him, said to them : an evil and
adulterous generation seeketh after a sign ; and there shall be no sign given
them, but the sign of the prophet Jonah. Matth. xn.

SERMON VIIL— On the Law of Christ, - 158

[For the second Sunday in Lent ; or for the Feast of the Transfiguration of our

Lord, August 6.]
While he yet spake, behold, a bright cloud overshadowed them, and behold, a
voice out of the cloud, which said : this is my beloved son in whom J am well
pleased ; hear ye him. Matth. xvii.

IV CONTENTS, VOL. I.

SERMON IX On the Christian's Character, - - 177

The pharisees being met together, Jesus asked them, saying : what think ye of
the Christ ? Matth. xxii.

SERMON X On the Intercourse between the Righte-
ous and the Wicked, - - - - 196
[For the fifth Sunday after Epiphany ; or the twenty-sixth after Pentecost.]

While the men slept, the enemy came and sowed tares among the wheat.

Matth. xiii.

SERMON XI On Adversity and Prosperity, - - 220

[For the fourth Sunday after Epiphany ; or the twenty-fifth after Pentecost.]
When he was entered into a ship, his disciples followed him. And behold there
arose a great tempest in the sea, insomuch that the ship was covered with the
waves ; but he was asleep. And his disciples came to him, and awoke him,
saying, Lord, save us ; tee perish. And he saith unto them : why are ye
fearful, O ye of little faith. Matth. viii.

SERMON XII — On Matrimony. 244

[For the second Sunday after Epiphany.]
There was a wedding in Cana of Galilee : and the mother of Jesus was there :
and both Jesus and his disciples were invited to the wedding. John it.

SERMON XIII On Worldly Diversions, - - - 265

[For the third Sunday after Easter.]
Verily, verily, I say unto you, that ye shall weep and lament, but the world will
rejoice, John xvr.

SERMON XIV On an Erroneous Conscience, - - 289

[For the third Sunday after Advent.]
They said unto him : who art thou, that we may give an answer to those who sent
us ? What sayest thou of thyself ? He replied : lam the voice of one crying
out in the wilderness, make strait the way of the Lord. John i.

SERMON XV On True and False Piety, - - - 312

[For the fifth Sunday after Pentecost.]
Verily I say unto you : unless your righteousness shall exceed that of the scribes
and pharisees, ye shall not enter into the kingdom of heaven. Matth. v.

SERMON XVI — On Scandal, 333

[For the second Sunday after Advent.]
Jesus making answer, said to them : go and relate to John what you have heard
and seen. The blind see, the lame walk, the deaf hear, the dead rise again :
and blessed is the man that shall not be scandalized in me. Matth. xi.

f PHI

<»•>

, NOV 1881

PREFACE.

Bourdaloue was, unquestionably, the most distinguished
ornament of the pulpit that ever France produced. —
Formed by nature for a public speaker, and gifted with
all the powers requisite to accomplish an orator, no one
could appear to greater advantage before a Christian
audience. His aspect was good, and his voice manly,
full, and melodious. Action, guided by feeling and
reflection, added grace to his utterance ; and energy,
suitable to the importance and meaning of that which he
discoursed on, gave uncommon spirit and life to his
diction. Joined to a distinct and accurate elocution, he
possessed an astonishing volubility of speech ; so that in
all the most interesting parts of his subject his eloquence
rolled with amazing force and impetuosity. Conscious
that he appeared as Christ's ambassador, and declared to
the people the will of his master, concerning an affair of
no less consequence than their eternal welfare — he always
demeaned himself with becoming dignity, and commanded
respect by a proper deportment.

With talents like these, a public speaker never fails of
applause. Correspondent with the delivery, whatever it
is, will almost infallibly be the effect of a popular speech.

VI PREFACE.

Carelessness and insipidity beget indifference and disgust,
/but zeal and spirit create warmth and satisfaction. As
mankind in general are easily dazzled, they are not
qualified to estimate a discourse in proportion to its
propriety and intrinsic worth. It is not then to be
wondered at, that Bourdaloue was heard as he really was,
with the utmost attention and silent recollection,' and that
his audience from time to time should give extraordinary
marks of their approbation, and of the impression made
on their minds.

But this great man had other qualifications equally
necessary for a preacher of the Word — an intimate union
with God in prayer, much reading and reflection, ex-
perience among all ranks of people, a thorough insight
into the human heart, strong feelings, a full possession of
the affections he meant to infuse into others, and a deep
penetration, which enabled him to find out in all his
disquisitions what was most consonant to reason and
truth ; and this last was his most distinguishing cha-
racteristic.

Accordingly, the excellence of his sermons lies not in
some shining and laboured passages, but in the chain of
argument, and uniformity of strength, which link and
support the different parts and their ramifications. A
discourse of his is like a noble structure, of which we
cannot form a right judgment from one or two apart-
ments, much less from a single ornament. Every thing
he says directly tends to the point in hand, for he never

PREFACE. Vll

in the least digresses from his subject, or loses sight one
moment of his leading proposition. He pitches upon one
capital, or terrible, or perceptive truth, which he eluci-
dates and proves by the divine documents of the inspired
penmen, the convictive arguments of the ancient fathers,
and the pious thoughts of ascetic writers. His emotions
are strong and pathetic, his sentiments lively and apposite,
his reflections judicious and fraught with good sense, and
his reasoning energetic, perspicuous, and conclusive. —
Though he is very accurate in the measure of his periods,
and very attentive to the consonance and cadence of their
different members, yet he no where sacrifices sense to
sound, or solidity of argument to harmony of words. His
style is perfectly adapted to his subject, for he knows
when to be plain and artless, and when to be rhetorical
and figurative. It should seem indeed, that nothing was
wanting in order to warm the passions, convince the
understanding, and work a speedy and thorough con-
version in the heart of a Christian.

The pulpit, which was designed to explain the Word
of God and promote godliness, he never prostitutes to the
vile purposes of party or slander. Eingleaders of schism
and broachers of heresy he seldom mentions ; and never
but when it naturally falls in with his subject so to do.
On these occasions, we find spirit without asperity, and
argument without acrimony. Nevertheless — a fast friend
to truth — he is not afraid, though a court preacher, of
offending the delicacy of his hearers by too plain and

V1U PREFACE.

harsh an expression ; rightly judging that it would be
betraying his ministry to disguise, by circumlocution, the
great and eternal truths which he knows it is incumbent
on him to place in the clearest point of light.

It hath, it is true, been asserted by persons of refined
taste that the best sermon is unadorned, and congenial to
the simplicity of the Gospel which it explains ; that the
usual display of method and regularity, by divisions and
subdivisions, savours too much of art and defeats in some
measure the end for which it is intended ; that a preacher
ought not to embellish and set off evangelical truths with
ascititious ornaments and trappings borrowed from pagan
oratory: and by consequence that the cause of religion
and the reformation of manners might be furthered and
supported more effectually than they are, by a mode of
preaching different from that which hath long obtained,
and which Bourdaloue followed. They allow, indeed,
that all the powers of eloquence ought to be exerted
by the preachers of. the Word ; but they are so far from
thinking simplicity incompatible with true, masculine,
affecting eloquence, that they look upon it as one of its
most powerful constituents. Parade and ostentation, not
method and perspicuity, they could wish were banished
from the pulpit for ever.

This fault, however, one would think should be
forgotten among so many perfections, and such excellent
qualifications as Bourdaloue possessed. And if we con-
sider the necessity he was under of complying with an

PREFACE. ix

established and inveterate custom, it will be greatly
extenuated, perhaps wholly excused. This is not the
only instance in which a bad custom hath overruled
reason and common sense. Be that as it may, his
divisions and subdivisions have great beauty, being
natural and exact, and ingeniously contrived. But if the
reader shall observe in these discourses any thing low or
mean, flat or insipid, forced or far-fetched, affected or in-
flated ; if he shall not discover a genuine warmth, a zeal
for religion and sound doctrine ; if the origin of evil be
not laid open, and the true means set forth by which it
may be removed ; if the principles of the Gospel be not
carefully applied to the condemnation of vice and advance-
ment of virtue ; if any thing shall occur unbecoming, or
beneath the dignity of the pulpit or the sacred ministry,
more than hath already been explained or hinted at, he
is desired to set it to the account of the translator, not
of Bourdaloue.

It was found necessary to employ some few theological
terms in a different sense from that in which they are used
by the generality of English writers : to instance only in
the word contrition — it is generally supposed to mean no
more than a vehement natural grief in the sinner, arising
from a consciousness of his having perpetrated a grievous
crime. But no kind of grief can with propriety be called
contrition, which is not owing to a supernatural infusion
of divine grace into the sinner's soul, and to the sinner's
free co-operation with it.

FKEFACE.

The ingenious compliments to the King of France,
which, in the original, are tacked to some of these dis-
courses, are here left out ; and for this the translator need
scarce apologise. But an apology may be necessary for
his having undertaken a task to which, very likely, it will
be found that he was unequal. It were, indeed to be
wished that some abler pen had undertaken it upon a
larger and more comprehensive plan. However, the
translator natters himself that whatever defects may be
observed in, or objections made to what is here offered
the pains, at least, which he hath taken will meet with
some indulgence.

■

PfilXI
B£C. NOV ]

SERMONS.

SERMON I.

ON THE BIRTH OF CHRIST.

£C The angel said unto them: Fear not ; for behold I bring you
tidings of great joy, that shall be to all people : for this day is
born to you, in the city of David, a Saviour, who is Christ the
Lord." Luke ii.

Thus spoke the angel of the Lord ; but he spoke to shepherds,
inoffensive men, who, estranged from the world, and tending their
flocks, were as innocent of life, as they were poor and obscure.
He brought them tidings of a Saviour, who, born in a stable,
came to do honour to their condition, by making choice of their
poverty ; and who, by laying aside, to save them, the majesty of
God, appeared in a manner clothed in the form not only of a man,
but of a man unknown like them, and in all things but sin per-
fectly like them. I am not, therefore, surprised that he should
say, Fear not. For what had they to fear,* (says St. Chrysostom,)
in a mystery which teemed with consolation — in a mystery which
afforded them numberless opportunities of praising God — in a mys-
tery which displayed the happiness of their station, and thereby
made their wants, I do not say supportable, but desirable and
pleasing ? I am not, I say, surprised that the angel should accost
them in these words : " Behold I bring you tidings of great joy ;
because this day is born to you a Saviour."

But, Christians, notwithstanding the obligation I am under of

B

{0 ON THE BIRTH OF CHRIST.

fulfilling the duties annexed to my ministry, I am far from enjoy-
ing the advantage which the angel of the Lord enjoyed. I bring
vou tidings, like him, that the Saviour is born ; but I doubt, I
bring them to an audience to whom they wilT be no solid motive
of consolation. I bring them to those, who, though Christians by
profession, are filled with fantastic and worldly notions. What
then shall I say to them, O Lord ! and how shall I display the
stupendous mystery of your humility and poverty ? Shall I say,
Fear not ? This, in the supposition I make of their state, woidd
be leading them into error. Shall I bid them fear ? I should
depart from the spirit of the mystery we are celebrating, and from
the comfortable thoughts it is wont to inspire, and with which it
should inspire the most profligate sinners. Shall I bid them be
afflicted, while gladness spreads her influence over the Christian
world ? Shall I say, be comforted, while at the sight of the Sa-
viour who condemns their maxims, they have so much reason to
be grieved and afflicted ? I will say, O my God ! both the one
and the other. I will say, be afflicted ; and I will say, be com-
forted ; for I bring tidings which ought to excite both fear and
joy. These two sentiments, so contrary in appearance, are the
abstract and substance of the following discourse.

It was the will of Christ Jesus to appear in the world as an
object of contradiction ; and by an impenetrable secret of divine
Providence, to be " set for the ruin and resurrection of many."
Luke ii. The whole life of this God-man was taken up in ful-
filling this prediction. It is not then without reason that I pro-
pose his birth as a just motive of fear and joy : of fear, by consi-
dering him, Saviour as he is, as the ruin of the unrighteous ; of
joy, by looking on him as the resurrection of sinners, who, by
reforming their lives, become the elect of God. ^

I may say that the business of salvation consists in rightly
managing these two opposite, but not clashing sentiments of joy
and fear ; and for this reason, holy David, instructing the great
and powerful, for whom he knew, by divine inspiration, that this
sage lesson was particularly needful, said to them in a manner not
less surprising, than judicious and sensible : " Serve ye the Lord
with fear, and rejoice with him in trembling." Ps. ii. Why
tremble, (says St. Chrysostom,) if I must rejoice in him ; and why
rejoice in him, if I must tremble ? Because, (replies this holy doctor,)
a man, in respect to God and salvation, whether righteous or

ON THE BIRTH OF CHRIST. 11

"wicked, should entertain no joy, which is not blended with a
respectful fear; or any fear, however respectful, which is not
accompanied by a holy joy. For, according to t!*e most exact rules
of religion, we are not permitted to fear God's judgments, without
confiding in him ; or to confide in him, without fearing his judg-
ments.

Now I maintain that the mystery of our Saviour's birth, tho-
roughly comprehended, and duly considered, is, of all the mysteries
in the Christian religion, the best calculated to stir up in our hearts
this salutary fear, together with this solid and internal joy. I
maintain, that the sight of this Saviour, lying in a manger, affords
us extremely powerful motives to the one and the other. First,
then, are you one of those, who, seduced by false maxims, quit the
way of salvation for the way of the world ? Be afraid ; because
this mystery will lay open to you afflicting truths. Secondly, are
you, or would you be, one of those, who seek Almighty God in
spirit and in truth ? Be glad ; because this mystery will discover
to you infinite treasures of grace and mercy.

Part I. The salvation of man must derive its origin from the
fear of the Lord ; and charity itself, how perfect soever, if it were
not founded in the fear of God's judgments, would neither be
solid nor infallible. It is with reason, therefore, that, proclaiming
to-day the great mystery of salvation, which is the birth of our
Redeemer, I should point out and ascertain the most powerful
motives to this wholesome fear. Fear then, ye men of the world ;
that is, ye who, intoxicated with the spirit of the world, lead a life
conformable to its laws and maxims : fear, because the very Sa-
viour, who, you think, is born to you, Saviour as he is, and hoAV-
ever universal, is perhaps, for you, the reverse of a Saviour : fear,
because he is a Saviour, but a Saviour who comes, perhaps, to be
your shame and condemnation : fear, because this Saviour, inca-
pable of indifference, if he doth not save you, must necessarily
ruin you. Dreadful reflection ! but which, my brethren, you may
turn to advantage, by ruminating on them in the true spirit of hu-
mility and compunction.

A Saviour, I say, is born unto you ; but a Saviour, that, seeing
the notions with which you are prepossessed, is possibly for you
the reverse of a Saviour. You wish he would save you, but you
are not solicitous he should free you from sin ; you wish lie would
save you, but you expect it shall give you no kind of trouble ;

2b

12

ON THE BIRTH OF CHRIST

you wish he would save you, but you would not have it be by the
means he hath appointed. Now all these are so many contradic-
tions ; and if you have any sentiments of religion left, these enor-
mous contradictions are cogent reasons why you should be seized
with dread and horror. Think not that I exaggerate them, in
order to disturb you with needless apprehensions : be rather afraid
that my expressions are too weak to convey a just idea of them in
their fall force.

1 st. You want him to exert his saving power in your regard ;
but, at the same time, by a strange opposition of sentiment and
conduct, you are not solicitous that he free you from sin. For
this, nevertheless, and for this only, he commenced a Saviour ; a
quality, which he caimot, with respect to you, in any manner
assume, but inasmuch as he disengages you from passions and bad
habits — those origins of sin, of which you are the slaves. If he
free you not from them ; and if, fir from desiring to be freed from
their dominion, you be infatuated with your slavery — use what
arguments you please, this divine Saviour, although eminently
such, is no more for you than a nominal Saviour ; and all the ado-
ration you pay him to-day, is delusion and hypocrisy. No rea-
soning, according to the principles of that Christianity which you
profess, can be more consequentially deduced than this : " Thou
shalt call his name Jesus," says the angel to Joseph ; and he gives
for reason, "because he shall save his people from their sins." —
Matt. i. Observe, (says St. Chrysostom,) that he doth not say,
thou shalt call his name Jesus, because he will deliver his afflicted
people from the temporal calamities they have been long groaning
under. That would have been suitable to the saviours of old, who
were but types of this, and delegates from God to that gross and
carnal people, the Jews. The Jesus whose nativity we now com-
memorate, was sent for a more exalted and holy mission : a Re-
deemer more essential and perfect was decreed for us. The great
evils we were to have been cured of, were more dangerous and
more mortal, than those which God's people underwent in Egypt ;
and it was for these, (says St. Chrysostom,) we stood in need of a
Saviour. He comes not to redeem us from the adversities and
misfortunes of the present life : we should be unworthy the pro-
fession and title of Christians, if we made that the criterion of his
grace and power of saving us : he was not promised us upon those
terms. But he comes to deliver us from the corruptions, the irre>

ON THE BIRTH OF CHRIST. ID

gularities, and the errors of the world : from the yoke of our pas-
sions ; from the tyranny of sin, by which we are enslaved ; from the
concupiscence of the flesh, which overrules our reason ; from an
overweening opinion of our own worth, suggested by self-love and
the spirit of pride ; from criminal connexions, hatred and aversions,
corroding rancour, and malignant jealousy. These are our
enemies ; and none but a God had the power of rescuing us from
such captivity. This it is that makes him take flesh and be born,
" because he shall save his people from their sins."

Noav tell me, Christians, have you hitherto understood it, and
do you still understand it, in this manner? Let each candidly
examine himself in the presence of God. Where is the ambitious
man, who, looking on his ambition as the wound of his soul,
desires in good earnest to be thoroughly cured? Where is the
voluptuous man, who, truly afflicted at his unhappy situation,
wishes efficaciously, and as his sovereign good, to be freed from
his passion ? Where is the avaricious man, who, ashamed of his
injustice, sincerely and from his heart detests his iniquity ? Where
is the woman, who, listening to religion, hath a horror of vanity,
and thinks of extirpating her self-love ? From what passion, from
what vicious and ruling inclination hath this divine Saviour as yet
delivered you ? By what then do you know him to be a Saviour ?
And if he be a Saviour, by what mark do you pretend to know that
he is yours ? What hath he by your own means performed in
your regard ? Noav, as I perceive that you are so ill disposed,
should I not prevaricate, did I declare to you his coming as a
cause of joy? And to speak as a faithful minister of the gospel,
ought I not to tell you what in fact I tell you? Undeceive
yourselves, and bewail your woful situation ; for, while enamoured
with the world, you obstinately persist in such criminal disposi-
tions, though the Saviour be born, no more advantage accrues to
you from his sacred birth, than if were not born. Alas ! Chris-
tians, give me leave, in this place, ,/to make a melancholy, but
affecting and edifying reflection. We bewail the unhappy fate of
the Jews, who, though Christ Jesus was born among them, have
reaped no manner of benefit from that inestimable favour, and are
those of the whole world who are the least advantaged by his
happy nativity. We pity their case, and condemn their folly ;
not reflecting, that their condition, or rather wretchedness, is nearly
similar to our own. For in what consisted the reprobation of the

14 ON THE BIltTH OF CHRIST.

Jews ? In representing to themselves, instead of the Messiah,
whom God had willed, and who was necessary for them — one,
according to the figments^of their own head, and agreeable to the
desires of their own heart ; hxesteeming as nothing him who came
to deliver their souls from bondage, and turning their thoughts,
unattentive to a future state, on an imaginary restorer of their for-
tunes and estates ; in confounding together these two kinds of
salvation — or, to speak more properly, in having rejected the one,
and unprofitably flattering themselves with hopes of the other, by
which they were frustrated of the one and the other, and effec-
tually cut off from the blessing of redemption.

From this source arose their ruin ; and from what other doth
ours arise ? Although we do not, like them, expect another
Messiah, but believe in liim whom heaven hath sent, is it not true
(let us own it and blush) that, to judge by our conduct, we are
involved, with regard to our Saviour, in the same darkness which
surrounded the Jews, and still surrounds them, relatively to the
Messiah, whom they have long expected, and in whom they hope.
My meaning is this : we invoke Jesus Christ as our God and Re-
deemer ; but we invoke him in the spirit in which the Jews would
invoke him. We pressingly invoke him for temporal blessings ;
but are supinely heedless as to eternal rewards. Doth adversity
oppress us ? Is a persecution raised against us ? Is our fortune,
or reputation, or health in danger ? Then have we recourse to
the God who saved us, to the God we are desirous again
should save us ; but from what ? — from the trouble which we
have been brought into — from the disorder which afflicts us —
from the misfortune which brings us low. These are the evils
which awaken our fervour, which make us attend with assiduity to
prayer, and from which we beg with earnestness, and even with
impatience, to be preserved or delivered. But we are in the state
and irregularity of habitual sin, which brings death to the soul ?
We hardly reflect that there is an all-powerful Saviour to withdraw
us from it ; scarce do we make application to him, and cry out
with the prophet : " Hasten, O Lord ! lift me up from the abyss
into which I am fallen." Insensible to the necessity in which we
are entangled, we enjoy tranquillity and a peaceful mind. What
do I say ? Far from looking out for a proper remedy, perhaps we
dread it ; perhaps we shun it ; perhaps our perverseness and ma-
lignity of heart are such, that our very sin gives us a secret joy,

ON THE BIRTH OF CHRIST. 15

and in the bottom of our hearts we applaud ourselves ibr it, or
even place our glory in it. If this be the case, we are in our hearts
as much Jews as the Jews themselves. And if their infidelity be
compared with ours, ours is more culpable, as we despise a Saviour
in whom we believe ; but they sinned against him because they
knew him not. A striking circumstance that should fill our
minds with dread and anxiety.

2ndly. Our blindness goes still farther. We desire that this God,
made flesh, should save us ; but we desire it may be without
giving us any trouble. Another contradiction is this, and another
motive of fear ; for he is our Saviour only conditionally : and the
condition is ; that we co-operate with him in the work of salvation.
St. Augustin observes, that he made us indeed, but'will not save
us without our own concurrence : he requires that the work of
salvation, or rather the fulfilment of this great work, depend upon
ourselves, and that we share in the labour without priding our-
selves in having done so. As Saviour, he did penance for us ;
but still requires that we do penance for ourselves. As Saviour,
lie prayed, wept, and merited for us ; but requires that our prayers
joined to his — that our tears mingled with his — that our works,
sanctified by his, accomplish in us the work of redemption, of
which he is the author, and which, without our own co-operation,
he woidd not accomplish. As Saviour, he became a victim for us
in the crib, where he began his voluntary immolation ; but requires
that Ave be ready to immolate ourselves ; and so requires it, and
hath made the virtue and efficacy of his sacrifice, relatively to our
salvation, so to depend on it, that how disposed soever he be in
our favour, although he so loved us as to be made man for us,
notwithstanding all his love for us, and all he hath undergone, by
being born among us, and like us — he chooses, nevertheless, rather
that we perish — that we be damned — that we be eternally excluded
from the number of the predestinate, than to save us by that easy
and gratuitous redemption, such as we understand it ; because
under pretence of doing honour to his grace, by attributing our
eternal salvation to it, we should turn it to the purpose of leading
a loose, disorderly, extravagant life.

It is, therefore, necessary, in order to be saved, that we take
pains ourselves, as he took pains for us. This he made a law ; a
law, which St. Paul so exactly complied with, that he said, " He
fulfilled in his flesh the things that were wanting in the sufferings

1(5 ON THE BIRTH OF CHRIST.

of Christ ;" Col. i ; a general and absolute law ; a law, with which
he hath never dispensed, and with which he will never dispense.
From this law, however, you plead exemption. It seems hard and
burdensome, and you ardently desire to be freed from its yoke.
You wish for salvation ; but you would have it be upon your own
terms, and without difficulty. You wish for it, provided that
neither subjection, nor restraint, nor effort, nor victory over your-
self be required of you. You wish for it, but without purchase,
or even trouble. What pains are you at, or what are your en-
deavours to that end ? What sacrifice have you made to God ?
What violence have you offered to yourself ? But God, on the
other hand, obliges me to declare to you, that while you proceed
upon such principles, you have no right, title, or claim, to that
salvation for which our Redeemer came into the world. Whence
you may judge whether you will find wherewith to comfort and
encourage you in the birth of this God-man.

3rdly. In fine, you want he should save you, but you would
not have it by the means he hath pointed out. Although these
means have been concerted and resolved on in the unerring de-
crees of his eternal wisdom, they are displeasing to you ; although
they have been sanctioned in his sacred person, and authorised by
his example, you do not relish them. And what are they ?
Hatred of the world and of yourselves ; disengagement from the
world and worldly vanities; forsaking the world and its plea-
sures and preferments ; poverty of spirit, humility of heart, morti-
fication of the senses, austerity of life. This language is grating
to you. You are for means more proportioned to your worldly
notions, and more conformable to your inclinations : and I say, for
that reason you ought to tremble ; because, independently of your
worldly notions and inclinations, it is an undoubted truth, that this
incarnate God will save you by no means but those which he him-
self hath specified ; and that those which he himself hath specified
will not save you, so long as you follow your inclinations and
worldly notions. This is the melancholy mystery I took upon me
to proclaim ; the more melancholy for you, if, after having heard
it, you do not turn it to good purpose.

But by a supposition which. I am going to make, I shall place
this matter in a clearer light. Perhaps it will surprise you ; I
would to heaven it may sufficiently surprise you, to force from
you an acknowledgment of your secret infidelity, and induce you

ON THE BIRTH OF CHRIST. 17

to assume sentiments more worthy of a Christian. Tell me then,
if Almighty God had sent a Saviour entirely different from him
in whom we believe and hope : that is, if a Saviour had come from
heaven, favourable to corrupt nature, and diametrically opposite
to him whom we adore ; if, instead of declaring, like the angel of
the Lord, that this Messiah was a poor and humble Saviour, born
in a stable, I should assure you now that you had been greatly
deceived, he being quite of an opposite character ; that his birth
was attended with pomp and splendor, with opulence and plenty,
with all the conveniencies and pleasures of life; that to these
means he hath annexed your eternal welfare, and by these hath
undertaken to plant his religion : if, by an inversion, which indeed
is impossible, but which we may imagine, the case were thus, and
what I call supposition were a reality, tell me what you would
have to reform in your conduct, or to correct and amend in your
sentiments, in order to conform to this new gospel ? Changing
belief, would you be obliged to change morals ? Would you be
under a necessity of quitting your present state for a state of per-
fection, which this Saviour would point out to you ? Or, rather,
without any alteration from what you are, would you not, in that
supposition, be perfect Christians? And would you not, with
reason, felicitate each other on a system of religion, on which your
salvation entirely depended, and which tallied so perfectly with
your taste and maxims, and with every other rule of life the
world prescribes ? On such an occasion, might I not say with
propriety, "Fear not ; for behold I bring you tidings of great joy."
A Saviour is born to you ; a Saviour to your liking, and after
your desires ; a Saviour, whose principles will allow you to give
full scope to your passions, and who, far from contradicting, will
approve and authorise it. Now as he is such a Saviour, be comT
fortecl. Should I not, I say, have grounds to address you in this
strain ? And would you not, filled with a secret joy, say, this is
the Saviour and God we wanted? Alas! Christians, I own you
would have, in this new system, a right to rejoice ; but you are
too clear-sighted not to conclude from thence, that what in that
case would give you comfort, ought to fill you now with ap-
prehension. For seeing that, in supposition of this new gos-
pel, I might justly say, I bring you happy tidings, my duty
obliges me, as I preach a contrary gospel, to hold also a contrary
language. At the hazard of disturbing the joy of the church,

13 Oft THE BIRTH OF CHRIST.

which is good and holy, I must disturb yours, which, considering
the blindness with which you proceed, is false and presumptuous.
1 must bid you be afraid, nay, tremble for fear, because a Saviour
is born to you ; but a Saviour who is seemingly come into the
world for your shame and condemnation ; who stands in opposition
to all your inclinations, an enemy to the world and worldly en-
joyments— a poor, humble, suffering Saviour. Afflicting truth !
But for whom ? For you, worldling ; that is, for you, wealthy man,
possessed of riches, and intoxicated with your fortune ; for you,
ambitious man, infatuated with splendor, and an admirer only of
earthly pomp ; for you, sensual and voluptuous man, whose love is
unmeasurable, though confined to yourself, and whose only occu-
pation is the gratifying of your passions and the indulging of your
lusts. And thus having discovered this mystery of grief and fear,
which is discoverable in the birth of a God-man, let us consider the
other mystery, the mystery of comfort, which it includes, and what
share we may presume to expect in it : it is the subject of the
second part.

Part. II. How trifling soever may be the difference of condi-
tions, in the presence of God, and how often soever we may find
in the scriptures, that he glories in being a God equal to all, who
hath no regard to rank, and inaketh no distinction of persons ; yet
true it is, Christians, that in the order of grace, Ins predilection
hath uniformly appeared to lean towards the poor and the little,
preferably to the great and rich. Without searching into the
reason of it, let us be content to adore the decrees of God, who,
according to the apostle, doth mercy to whom he pleaseth, and
justice to whom he pleaseth. This predilection is manifest and
authentic throughout the whole gospel ; but no where more so,
than in that august mystery, which is the adorable subject of the
present celebration. For to whom did God choose to reveal first
the nativity of his divine Son ? To the shepherds ; that is, to poor
men, intent on their work, unknown to the world, and content with
their obscurity and the innocence of their state. These are they,
(as St. Ambrose remarks,) whom Christ first appoints to be of the
number of his elect ; to whom he first communicates the know-
ledge of his divinity ; and from whom he receives the first act of
adoration. They are the first attendants on tliis God-made man,
and surround his cradle, while the great in Judea, the rich in Je-
rusalem, the learned in the synagogue, abandoned, as I may say,

ON THE BIRTH OF CHRIST. 19

and delivered over to themselves, are bewildered in the mazes and
dark intricacies of unbelief, and to all appearance bear no part in
the birth of the Saviour.

Yes, my brethren, (says St. Paul to the Corinthians,) these are
the best and first fruits of your vocation. The weak are pitched
upon to confound the power of the great ; the simple, to confound
the arguments of the wise ; the mean and despicable, according to
the notion of the world, to confound that which is most illustrious
and most eminent in the world. Such was the commencement of
the Christian religion ; such was the original of God's church,
which was shut up (as St. Chrysostom observes) within the narrow
limits of a stable, seeing that Jesus Christ was there only known.
And this, ye great ones of the world who hear me, if God's
amiable providence had not provided for your wants, had been
sufficient to plunge you into the deepest affliction, or even drive you
to despair. Be of good heart, and convinced, as you shall be
presently, of the immensity of his mercies ; notwithstanding the
circumstances in which, by your condition, you are unfortunately
engaged, put your trust in him. For I shall adduce three principal
motives of consolation drawn from the mystery we are now solem-
nizing. Give me all your attention ; and after resolving with fear
and trembling this ineffable mystery in your minds, proceed to en-
joy all the comfort it affords : " for behold I bring you tidings of
great joy." How exposed soever you may be to the vices and cor-
ruptions of the world, and how remote soever you may seem to be
from the kingdom of God, Jesus Christ rejects you not ; Jesus
Christ, who came into the world only with a view to draw
you to himself — an inestimable grace, with which it is incum-
bent on you to correspond. How contrary soever to that of
the blessed Jesus your condition in life may appear to be, it is still
in your power, remaining what you are, to resemble him in holi-
ness ; an important point, which concerns your predestination, and
of which it is meet you should be fully apprized. How dangerous
soever human grandeur may be, and whatever malediction hath
been pronounced against riches, they may serve you as the means
of honouring Jesus Christ, and rendering him the particular
worship he expects; an immense advantage, which it is your
boundcn duty to seize on, and to make, as it were, the foundation
of your hopes.

1st. Although Jesus Christ, beloved hearers, by a special choice,

20 ON THE BIRTH OF CHRIST.

would be born in lowliness and humiliation, he cannot be said to
have, therefore, proscribed the great, or the greatness of the world ;
nor am I afraid of offending your delicacy by saying, that from
his very birth, far from despising them, he sought after them, and
brought them to a knowledge of himself, and graciously indulged
them with a peculiar connexion. This incontestably appears from
the gospel you have heard ; for when this saving God calls shep-
herds and the poor to surround his cradle, he calls also the wise
men, powerful and opulent, nay, dignified with royalty, if we may
believe tradition. When an angel from heaven is deputed to
those, a resplendent star is made a guide to these ; when those
quit their flocks to adore and acknowledge him, these quit their
country, possessions and rank : but whether these or those paid
him greater honour, or were dearer to him, is a problem I shall
not take upon me to solve ; but, waving the comparison, it is true
that both were received in the stable by this God-man ; at least it
is true, that under the veil of human infancy, he makes his divinity
known to both, and that he excludes not the great by preferring
the little to them.

Now, ye men of the world, ought not this alone to stir up your
confidence ? Is it not sufficient to strengthen your resolution, and
inflame your souls with a generous ardour ? But more consolation
flows in upon you from the same source, forasmuch as Christ
Jesus, in the mystery of his nativity, independently of his predi-
lection, hath done more, in reality, for the great than the little ;
because a stronger grace was necessary to attract such as the wise
men, than shepherds, whose ignorance and imbecility seemed a
natural disposition to the humility of the faith. In the latter, all
was pliant to the divine insinuation ; but in the former, grace had
numberless obstacles to encounter and surmount; namely, the
world and its lusts. This was the miracle which it wrought ; this,
the memorable victory which the faith of our Redeemer, Christ,
gained over the world : "This is the victory that overcometh the
world ; our faith :" John i. v. : a victorious and triumphant faith,
which wanted not sufficient influence over the minds of men, not-
withstanding the licentiousness of the world, made an impression
on their hearts, sufficient to eradicate the strongest passions, and
bring them captive under the yoke of the Christian religion.

And now, whoever you are, or whatever your rank in fife may
be, do you complain that your God condemns your condition, or

ON THE BIRTH OF CHRIST. 21

that your condition is a bar between you and your God ? No !
Christians ; it neither debars you from your God, nor doth your
God condemn it. It doth not debar you from your God, as he
manifestly supplies it with abundant grace : your God condemns
it not, as on Ins coming into the world, he sanctified^t in the wise
men, and reformed it in you. He condemns the abuse and irregu-
larity of your condition ; he condemns the pageantry, the luxury,
the effeminacy, the hardheartedness, the impiety of your condition,
not the condition itself; as it is for that, and for you, he displays,
this day, the treasure of his most particular and efficacious graces.
As the God of all ranks, who came for the salvation of all mankind,
he requires from his cradle, in which he already performs the func-
tions of a Saviour,, that great and small, rich and poor, masters and
menial train, appear in his retinue.

2ndly. But after all, what analogy can his poverty bear to opulence,
his debasement to grandeur, his distress to the ease and conveni-
encies of life ? To this I answer, by a second proposition, which I
have already advanced, and which I now resume. I say, it is in
your power, remaining what you are, to resemble in holiness the
infant Jesus ; and notwithstanding the contrariety which is so very
visible1 between your state and his, to possess that perfect conformity
to him, in which is founded (according to the doctrine of St. Paul)
man's predestination. To be owned by God, and partake of his
glory, we must have the characteristic of, and bear a resemblance
to, this new-born infant ; and it is relatively to him, and to him
only that it may be said with propriety: " Unless ye become as
this little child, ye shall not enter into the kingdom of heaven."
Matt, xviii. At the very thoughts of so hard a task, you are
disturbed in mind, your spirits sink, and you are filled with dismay.
But hear the sequel. I hold it is not hard, much less impossible,
for you to attain, without change of condition, this divine simili-
tude. You may, as Christians, be great and humble of heart, rich
and poor in spirit, powerful and of a meek and unruffled temper.
Now the moment you join humility to greatness, meekness to power,
and disaffection to the possession and enjoyment of riches, your
state no longer clashes with that of your Redeemer. On the con-
trary, you have by these means the advantage of being more con-
formable to that model of the predestinate, and exhibit in the world
more finished copies. For, the character of this Saviour is not
merely to be poor and humble, but to be great and humble at the

22 ON THE BIRTH OF CHRIST.

same time ; or rather, to be humble and to be greatness itself as,
notwithstanding his humility, he is the Son of the Most High.
Now, beloved brethren, it is your peculiar happiness, that you are
enabled, in the rank which God hath placed you, to imitate all
these in a degree of perfection, to which those, whom obscurity of
birth, or slenderness of fortune, having mixed with the crowd, are
deficient in the power and ability of aspiring. To whatever degree
of sanctity they may have risen, their humility is unexpressive, and
an ill emblem of a God reduced to a state of depression : dignity
and distinction, in the opinion of the world, are necessary for that.
A great man, who without derogating from his quality, practices
the humility prescribed by his religion ; a great man, who is little
in his own eyes, and perpetually mindful that lie is a sinner, and
mortal, and walks before his God with respect and fear ; a great
man, who can say like David, "Lord, my heart is not puffed up,
nor are my eyes haughty ;" Psalm cxxx. ; I have not been dazzled
with the vain splendor and worldly pomp that surround me, nor
have I been hurried into undertakings either beneath me, or con-
trary to justice and charity ; " neither have I walked in the great mat-
ters, nor in wonderful things above me." Psalm cxxx. A great man,
actuated by these sentiments, is a perfect imitator of the grea? God,
whose adorable debasement we this day commemorate. A great
man, in this disposition, is a true Christian ; a Christian that hum-
bles himself like the divine infant, who is presented to us in the
stable at Bethlehem : a great man like this Utile child ; and it is
to him — to this great man, I am bold enough to apply the words
that follow : "he shall be called great in the kingdom of heaven."
A great man upon earth, sanctified in this manner, is, I do not say,
great, but very great in the kingdom of heaven.

Thus, the Saviour of the world brings the great and the rich,
the poor and the vulgar, to his cradle. And who are they, or who
ought they to be ? Let us judge by the wise men, whose example
is applicable to the present circumstances, and who are nearly con-
nected with the present mystery. Ah ! Christians, they are truly
great — yet seem only to be so, to display in their conduct, by fol-
lowing the star of the God that calls them, a more profound hu-
mility— a more prompt obedience — a more entire submission to the
orders of heaven : and these are they to whom God reveals him*-
self, as well as to the little; because the likeness they bear to him,
is in some shape greater than that of the little. Those arc the rich

ON THE BIRTH OF CHRIST. 23

who, far from setting their hearts on their riches, in all humility
lay them at the feet of the spotless Lamb, and make a merit of
their abdication ; the rich, whom Almighty God disdains not, be-
cause he finds that not unfrequently, in the midst of their riches,
they are poorer of heart than the poor themselves. And is not this
a powerful inducement for you to put up a thousand acts of thanks-
giving to heaven, who, in the highest pitch of elevation and for-
tune, are enabled to partake of the same advantages ? And if you
rightly comprehend the spirit of your religion, have you not a thou-
sand reasons to praise God eternally, who gives you an opportu-
nity of acquiring holiness with so little difficulty, and by the very
means which seem in their nature to stand in direct opposition to
holiness ?

3rdly. How dangerous soever may be the grandeur of the world,
how cursed soever may be its riches, I advance a third proposition,
equally incontestable ; namely, that it depends on yourselves to
make them subservient toward paying the infant Jesus the parti-
cular worship he expects from you ; and thus I conceive it to be :
as God, and humble, he demands honour and glory ; as God, and
poor, he demands assistance and relief. This double tribute he
requires at your hands : and it is justly accounted the greatest
blessing of your exalted station, that you have it in your power to
consecrate to your Saviour what would otherwise be the cause
of your condemnation. What treasures of grace, would you but
store them up. But this I shall now set forth in a clearer point
of light.

As God, and humble, he demands honour and glory ; and,
accordingly, he seeks adorers from among the Gentiles. But
what adorers ? Men distinguished by their dignity, who, pros-
trate and lowly in his presence, to a great degree, do him more
honour, and procure him more glory, than the shepherds of Judea
with all then- zeal. Nothing, in fact, can do him greater honour,
and procure him more glory, than the homage of the great. Now,
on whom but yourselves doth it depend, to give him that glory of
which he declares himself so jealous ? Why were you invested
with authority in the world ? Why did God place you in your
present elevation ? What is it not in your power to do for him ?
And, if compared with you, what doth the rest of mankind do ?
To you it is owing that the doctrine and religion of this God-man
are held in veneration. It is by your means that his worship is

24 ON THE BIRTH OF CHRIST.

readily, solidly, and universally established ; and it is authorised
by your example. To what better purpose, to what equally
good, can you exert your power ? And what doth it cost you
but the will to do it ? By this rule you ought to estimate your
places at court, and public employment. With this only view it
is allowable to entertain a passion for them, or to indulge compla-
cency in the thoughts of possessing them. In every other respect,
they ought to create sorrow. But your comfort should be, that
you have by means of them, a fair opportunity of glorifying the
majesty, and carrying farther than others the interests of a God
reduced to so great a degree of debasement.

To draw to a conclusion. As God, and poor, he demands
relief, no longer for himself, but for his members, which are the
poor. On this occasion, I should not acquit myself thoroughly of
my ministry, did I forget the poor — the members of Jesus Christ.
If you be Christians at all, you must be fired with emulation of
those blessed wise men, who came a long journey from the extre-
mity of the east, and appeared before the Saviour, not with empty
hands, but offered him presents, of which he accepted. And I
say, that he insists upon receiving from your hands a similar obla-
tion; I say, that without seeking him so far, you may find him in the
midst of you, because he is so in reality ; and because he is in
places, and in stations of life, in which he suffers as much, and is
as much forsaken, as in the stable at Bethlehem : I say, that the
poor, who surround you, and whom you see, and still more those
whom you do not see, and who cannot approach you, are in your
regard the same Jesus Christ, to whom the shepherds presented
the produce of the fields, and the wise men made an offering of
gold and frankincense : I say, that we learn from the doctrine of
faith, that what is given to the poor, is given to Jesus Christ, and
with more merit when put into their hands, than if put into
his without any intervention. Hence, and what a fund of confi-
dence ! hence your riches, according to the ordinary course of
things, an obstacle to salvation, are perfectly innocent, and become
salutary ; hence they lose the characteristic of reprobation which
the scripture gives them ; hence they coincide with, and are a
supplement and support to, the poverty of Jesus Christ, as he
enters into a holy association with you, partaking of your property,
and imparting to you his merits ; hence, made holy by this parti-
cipation, they change their nature, and from treasures of iniquity

ON THE PASSION OF OUR SAVIOUR. 23

become the occasion of that most excellent virtue, charity ; hence
those curses which the Son of God thunders out in the gospel
against riches, will not light upon you. Jesus Christ (says St.
Chrysostom) is too just and faithful to execrate riches which he
himself demands. " Blessed is he/' cries the royal Psalmist,
" who understandeth concerning the needy and the poor." Ps. xl.
And I say the same thing, and with greater reason, as the poor
are for a Christian, in a special manner, a mystery of faith. But,
resuming my principle, I add, blessed is he who understandeth
concerning the poverty and humility of a God-made man.

Because he humbled himself, (says St. Paul,) God, for his ex-
altation, enjoins the whole world to bend the knee to his Name ;
and it is in the courts of princes that this prediction is authenti-
cally verified, as the powers of the world, which we revere in
them, are endowed by heaven with particular grace, to honour
and adore this Word made flesh, who condescended to appear in
an abject state on our account. Thus (says St. Chrysostom) is
this divine Saviour requited for the humiliations he underwent at
his birth, persecuted by Herod, and obedient to Augustus. But
thanks be to heaven, the world, at present, wears another aspect ;
and we see mighty monarchs obedient to Jesus Christ, using all
their endeavours to promote his reign, which I call, not the pro-
gress, but the completion and glory, of our holy religion.

SERMON II.

ON THE PASSION OF OUR SAVIOUR.

" The Jews require a sign, and the Greeks seek after wisdom ;
but we preach Christ crucified, unto the Jews a scandal, and unto
the Greeks foolishness ; but unto them who are called, both Jews
and Greeks, Christ, the power of God and the wisdom of God."
1 Cor. i.

If ever the preachers could with any show of reason blush at their
ministration, is it not to-day, when they see themselves necessitated
to publish the astonishing humiliations of the God they announce ;
the outrages he received ; the weakness he felt : his langour ;
his sufferings ; his passion ; his death ? And yet, says the great

c

26 ON THE PASSION OF OUR SAVIOUR.

apostle, notwithstanding the ignominies of the cross, I shall never
blush at the gospel of my Saviour ; and the reason he assigns for
it is as surprising as, nay more surprising than, the notion he con-
ceived of it. I know (he adds) that the gospel of the cross is the
power of God, for all those who are enlightened with the light of
the faith. "lam not ashamed of the gospel ; for, it is the power
of God to every one that believeth." Rom. i. St. Paid, far from
being ashamed of it, placed his glory in it. "God forbid,"
Bays he, writing to the Galatians, " that I should glory, save in
the cross of our Lord Jesus Christ." Gal. vi. Far from being
ashamed of the cross, in the exercise of his ministry, he positively
asserted, that, to support with honour, the most ready and infal-
lible means was, to preach the cross of God made man ; and that,
in reality, there was nothing in all the gospel more noble, more
wonderful, or even more proper to satisfy a man of good sense,
than this profound and adorable mystery : for this is the literal
sense of the passage I have chosen for my text : " The Jews re-
quire a sign, and the Greeks seek after wisdom." 1 Cor. i. The
incredulity of the Jews requires that we make them see a miracle ;
the pride and vanity of the Greeks make them plume themselves
upon their wisdom ; both the one and the other have taken an
obstinate resolution not to believe in Jesus Christ, but on one of
these two conditions. But, for my part, (says the apostle,) in
order equally to confound the incredulity of those, and the vanity
of these, I am determined to preach Jesus Christ even crucified ;
and the reason of it is, that it is eminently a miracle of God's
power, and a master-piece, at the same time, of God's wisdom ;
a miracle of God's power, which alone should strike the Jews
beyond every other miracle : " Christ crucified, the power of
God ;" a master-piece of God's wisdom, which alone is more than
sufficient to make the Gentiles submit to the faith, and bid farewell
to all worldly wisdom : " Christ crucified, the wisdom of God."
An admirable idea this of St. Paul's, representing perpetually
to himself the passion of our Saviour Jesus Christ, as a mystery
of power and wisdom. Now it is to this idea, beloved Christians,
I mean to adhere, because it seemed to me, on one hand, more fit
to give you edification ; and, on the other, more worthy of Jesus
Christ, whose funeral sermon I have undertaken this day to preach.
For our business now is, not to bewail the death of that God-man ;
our tears, if any we have to shed, must be reserved for another pur-

ON THE PASSION OF OUR SAVIOUR. 27

pose ; neither can we be ignorant of what that purpose is, since
Jesus Christ himself hath told it so positively and so distinctly, when
going to Calvary he said to the daughters of Jerusalem : " weep
not for me, but for yourselves." I say, our business now is, not to
bewail his death, but to meditate upon it ; to dive into the mys-
tery of it, to see the work of God : our business is to discover in it
wherewithal to fix and strengthen our faith ; and this is what,
with the holy grace of my God, I undertake to do. A hundred
times your hearts have yearned and melted at the melancholy story
of the passion of Jesus Christ ; but I mean to convey instruction
The moving and pathetic discourses you have heard, have often
filled your souls with grief, but perhaps a fruitless grief, or at most
a transitory grief, without effecting a change of manners. My
design is, to convince your reason, and dwell on something more
solid, which may be, in future, a ground for all the pious senti-
ments which this mystery shall inspire. This, therefore, beloved
hearers, is the division of the following discourse :

1st. You have not as yet, perhaps, considered the death of our
blessed Saviour, but as the mystery of his humility and weakness ;
but I shall make it appear that he hath, in this mystery, displayed
peculiarly his omnipotent power.

2ndly. The world hath hitherto considered this mystery as a
folly ; but I shall make it appear that God in this mystery, hath
most particularly set forth his wisdom.

Give me, O Lord ! to handle worthily so great a subject, the
zeal with which your apostle was filled, when you had chosen him
to carry your name before nations and kings, and to make them
revere, in the very humiliation of your cross, the divinity of your
person. I speak not, as St. Paul did, to Jews or Gentiles ; I
speak to Christians by profession ; but among whom some are,
every day, perceived unsteadfast in the faith, who, full of worldly
maxims and notions, and relying too confidently on human pru-
dence, are, although Christians, sometimes disturbed, and even
tempted, when the God whom they adore is represented to
them as loaded with ignominy, and dying on a cross. Now upon
this account it is, that I would strengthen them, by making them
know the gift of God, hidden in the mystery of your death ; and
by impressing on their minds a right idea of your seeming weak-
nesses. Bear me up, therefore, O my God ! but give to my
hearers, at the same time, the docility withiwhich it is incumbent

c2

28 ON THE PASSION OF OUR SAVIOUR.

on them to hear your word, to the intent that they may not only
be persuaded, but converted and sanctified.

Part I. That a God, as God, should act as Master, and
supreme Lord ; that out of nothing he should, with a word, make
heaven and earth ; that he should work prodigies throughout the
whole universe, and that nothing should resist his power, is a
thing, Christians, so natural to him, that for us it is hardly a sul>
ject of admiration : but that a God should suffer ; should expire in
torments ; should, as the scripture speaks, taste death — he who
alone possesses immortality — is a thing that neither angels nor men
will be ever able to comprehend. Well may I, therefore, cry out
with the prophet : " Be astonished, O ye heavens, at this !"
Jer. ii. For, this is that which surpasses all our understanding,
and which requires all the submission and all the obedience of our
faith ; but it is also in this great mystery that our faith hath over-
come the world : " This is the victory that overcometh the world ;
our faith." 1 John v. True it is, beloved Christians, Jesus
Christ hath suffered, and died. But in speaking of his death and
sufferings, I make no difficulty of advancing a proposition, which
you would look upon as a paradox, if the words of my text did
not dispose you to hearken to it vsith respect. I maintain that
Christ our Lord died and suffered as a God ; that is, in a manner
suitable only to a God ; in a manner so peculiar to God himself,
that the great apostle, for no other reason, did not hesitate to
declare to Jews and Gentiles : This crucified Christ, my brethren,
whom we preach to you, whose death scandalizes you, who, on
Calvary, seemed to you struck by the hand of God, and reduced
to the utmost weakness, is the power of God himself. That which
you despise in him, is what raises in us a veneration for him. He
is our God ; and that he is so, we want no sign or proof but his
cross. This, in short, is the substance of St. Paul's theology.
Let us enter, dear Christians, into the spirit of these divine words :
" Christ crucified, the power of God ;" and let us draw from
them the fruit they ought to produce in our souls.

I say, that Jesus Christ died in a manner suitable only to a God-
man. To convince you of it, more is required than a plain
exposition of facts. In effect, a man who dies, after having foretold,
himself, in terms the most express and clear, all the circumstances
of his death ; a man who dies performing miracles, nay the greatest
miracles, to show there is nothing but what is preternatural and

ON THE PASSION OF OUR SAYIOUR, 29

divine in his death ; a man whose death, if we consider it tho-
roughly, is itself the greatest of all miracles ; inasmuch as, far
from dying like other men, through loss of spirit, he dies, on the
contrary, through an effort of his omnipotence. But, what sur-
passes all the rest ; a man, who, by the infamy of his death,
arrives to the highest pitch of glory ; and who, expiring on the
cross, overcomes by the cross, the prince of the world ; tramples
by the cross upon the pride of the world ; erects his cross upon
the ruins of .the idolatry and infidelity of the world. Is
not this to die like a God ; or, if you like that better, like a God-
man ? And on this ground it was that the apostle went, when he
said, that this man, dead on the cross, was not the minister of
God's power, but the power of God made flesh : " Christ cruci-
fied, the power of God." Let us not separate these four proofs ;
and you will allow, that there is no reasonable, or even obstinate
mind, that ought not to be effected with them. Now to come to
particulars. 1st. None but a God can dive in such a manner
into futurity, as to have it absolutely in his power, and be able to
say absolutely and authoritatively, tliis or that shall come to pass,
although the matter in question depend upon an infinity of free
causes that must necessarily concur in it. None but a God can
knoAv distinctly, and of himself, the bottom of hearts, and search
into the most hidden secrets and close intentions, in such a manner
as to know infinitely better and clearer, what is in the thoughts
and will of man, than man himself. Now this is what Jesus
Christ did with respect to his passion and death. Indeed to hear
him speak of his passion, long before the exhibition of that tragic
scene, or liis enemies had formed plots against his life, one would
imagine that he relates the circumstances of a present event ; so
minutely he points out and makes known every particular. And
to see him on the day of that sad catastrophe, undergo the various
torments prepared for liim, one would imagine that his tormentors
were not so much the executioners of the sentence pronounced
against him, as of his own prediction. In short, (says he to his
apostles, in order to prepare them for this doleful mystery,) we
are now going to Jerusalem, and whatever hath been foretold of
the Son of man, will be accomplished. This Son of man, (for so he
was pleased to express himself,) whom you behold, and now speaks
to you, will be delivered to the Gentiles : he will be outraged,
insulted, scourged, buffeted, crucified ; they will spit in his face ;

30 ON THE PASSION OF OUR SAVIOUR.

he will die ignominiously, and will rise again the third day. Mind,
Christians, the reflection which St. Chrysostom makes in this
place ; for mam/ ages past, there had been prophets in the old
law, forerunners of the Messiah, who had published all these particu-
lars. As the chief obstacle which was one day to alienate worldly
minds from believing in Jesus Christ, was the supposed scandal
which the ignominy of his death would cause, God in his singularly
providential wisdom had revealed to his prophets, that the death
thought ignominious of the Messiah, would, in the fulness of time,
be a sovereign remedy for sin ; a solemn reparation of sin ; a means
to bring about the salvation and redemption of the world : in fine,
that the prophecies, those irrefragable testimonies of his divinity,
rendered the very ignominies of his death, not only venerable, but
adorable ; and that men, in this view, far from being scandalized
at it, would be persuaded that there was in the passion of our Sa-
viour nothing but what was above mans power and comprehension.
For (says St. Chrysostom) this was God's design, when, in the
Old Testament, he made Isaiah speak of the sufferings of Jesus
Christ with as much certainty, and in terms as precise, as the holy
evangelists have done in the New. But this design of God was
still more plain and obvious, and the proof of it much more con-
vincing and affecting, in the immediate prediction of Jesus Christ
himself: for he tells his disciples, discoursing with them about
his approaching death ; I am the man of sorrows, mentioned by
Isaiah, and am now about to fulfil, to a tittle, whatever hath been
written upon that subject. The time is come for the consumma-
tion of these things, and you yourselves shall presently bear witness
to it ; but it behoves me to forewarn you of it in this manner, that
you may hot be disturbed at it.

Accordingly, whatever this adorable Saviour had pointed out to
them in the books of Moses and the prophets, as relating to himself, was
fulfilled, shortly afterwards, to the letter, in the bloody catastrophe
of his death and passion. It was in consequence, and in virtue of
these divine prophecies, of which he was personally himself the
subject, that the Jews, instead of bringing him, which according
to law they should have done, to judgment, as he was a Jcav,
delivered him over to be judged by Pilate, who was a Gentile ;
that the soldiers, contrary to all the forms of judicature, over and
above the sentence of condemnation passed on him, added insult
and inhumanity ; spat in his face, and bruised him with buffets ;

ON THE PASSION OF OUR SAVIOUR. 31

that in every the minutest circumstance, the price at which he
he was to be sold — the use to which that money was to be ap-
plied— the casting lots for his garment, and the gall which waa
presented him, the scriptures which he applied to himself were,
it should seem, the rule of all the things his enemies had
plotted against him ; as if he had suffered only to justify the
oracles delivered so many ages before his appearing in the world :
« That the scriptures might be fulfilled." Matt. xxvi. w That
the word which he had said might be fulfilled." John xiii. This
argument was so solid, that there needed no more to convert the
famous eunuch, treasurer to the queen of Ethiopia, of whom men-
tion is made in the Acts; and to whom Philip, the deacon,
explained the wondrous things I preach. These prophecies, and
many others, literally and punctually verified in the passion of
our Saviour, obliged him to acknowledge the Messiah promised,
and sent by God in the fulness of time. Shall we, beloved bre-
thren, who are vested with the glorious character of Christians,
be less feelingly affected than he was ? And shall that which was
sufficient to convince a man not yet enlightened with the gospel
rays, be destitute of power sufficient to confirm us in the faith
which we profess ?

The same I say of secrets hidden in the recesses of the heart, of
WThich Christ Jesus showed very evidently in his passion that he
was master. He foretold to his apostles, that one among them
would betray him ; and Judas actually had it in his thoughts to
betray liim ; and did betray him : he foretold to St. Peter, that
he would deny him ; and St. Peter did in reality deny him : he
foretold to him, that notwithstanding his lapse, his faith would not
fail him ; and, notwithstanding his lapse, his faith did not fail him.
He foretold to him, that, after his conversion, he would be the
encouragement of his brethren ; and, in fact, his conversion inspired
them all with courage : he foretold to Magdalen, that the action
which she then performed, by pouring a precious ointment on his
head, would be praised and preached throughout the world ; and
it is to this day spoken of, to her commendation throughout the
world : pie foretold to Jerusalem, with streaming eyes, that it
would be destroyed and ruined to all intents and purposes ; and
Jerusalem was besieged, sacked, and laid in ashes, by the Romans,
so that there did not remain one stone upon another. Was not
this knowledge of things hidden in the dark recesses of futurity,

32 ON THE PASSION OF OUR SAVIOUR.

and of the most impenetrable secrets, evidently the knowledge of
a" God that "searcheth the hearts and the loins ?" Psalm vii.
And had not the man who died in this manner, revealing and
manifesting that which neither was nor could be known, saving
only to God himself, all the power of God himself ?

2ndly. But what I have to add should make a still greater
impression on you. This God-man dies working miracles ; and
what miracles ? Ah ! Christians, have there ever been, or will
there ever be such illustrious miracles ? At the point of death as
he is, he makes the earth tremble ; opens the sepulchres ; resusci-
tates the dead ; rends in two the veil of the temple, and hides in
more than Egyptian darkness the great luminary of the world ;
prodigies equally astonishing and unheard of; prodigies, with
which the soldiers were so deeply affected, that it occasioned their
conversion ; but a conversion (as St. Augustin remarks) arising
from the efficacy and virtue of the very blood they had spilt.
And, indeed, whatever I have said, St. Matthew reports in
express terms : " When they saw the earthquake, and those things
that were done, they feared greatly ; saying, Truly this was the
Son of God." Matt, xxvii. I am aware that there have been, even
among the Christians, impious men, and greater enemies to Jesus
Christ and his cross, than either Jews or Gentiles, who have not
been ashamed to question the truth of these miracles, pretending
that they might have been fictitious, and that the holy evangelists
might have formed a scheme among themselves to publish them in
the world, with a view to exalt their Master's glory. But here, to
use a scripture phrase, impiety is its own confusion ; and, rising in
in opposition to the Deity, displays its ignorance and malignity.
For, not to examine the rashness and folly of this impiety, whereas
it hath no other foundation than the prepossession and spirit of
libertinism; it ought to be shown (says St. Augustin) what
inducement the holy evangelists could have to publish to the
world these miracles of Jesus Christ, were they persuaded they
were false miracles. Is it not clear, that all the fruit they could
have expected from a publication of that nature, was public hatred,
persecutions, fetters, dungeons, and cruel torments ? Far, there-
fore, from believing they could have delighted in inventing and
spreading abroad such miracles, we ought rather to be astonished,
that though they knew them to be true, they had the courage and
resolution, at the expense of their lives, to bear witness to them.

ON THE PASSION OF OUR SAYIOUR. 33

Further, (continues the same St. Augustin,) the style alone
in which the evangelists have written the history of Jesus Christ,
and of his passion — their simplicity, frankness, and sincerity,
show very evidently, they did not write influenced by passion and
prepossession ; but as irreproachable andTaithful witnesses to the
truth, of which they were themselves the martyrs — even to the
effusion of their blood. They discover no traces either of indig-
nation against the Jews, or of compassion for their Master ; they
speak of him as men the most indifferent, and most disinterested
in the world would have spoken. They recount his weaknesses in
the garden ; his apathy ; his frights ; his wasted spirits ; the galling
affront he had to undergo in Herod's palace; the contemp-
tuous usage of that prince towards him ; the shameful and unjust
treatment he met with in theshouses of Annas, Caiaphas, and Pilate ;
and these they relate more punctiliously and more diffusely than
even his miracles.

This is not all ; for if these miracles had been fictitious, would
not the Jews, whom it so much imported to discover the impos-
ture, and who were not destitute at that time of able penmen, have
taken care to undeceive the world ? Would they not have pro-
tested against it ? This, however, they never did ; this they do
not at this day, as their best authors, particularly Josephus, would
make good the reverse against them. That universal eclipse which
happened, contrary to the course of nature, had in it something so
prodigious and so remarkable, that Tertullian, two centuries after,
speaks of it to the pagan magistrates of Rome, as of a singular
fact — of which they kept the tradition in their archives.
This fact, which was unquestionable and avowed, surprised that
heathen philosopher, Denis the Areopagite, (but who afterwards
became one of the strongest pillars and greatest ornaments of our
religion,) in such a manner, that, remote as he was from Judea,
and still more so from any knowledge of our mysteries, he of
himself found out that this eccentric darkness was an origin
of light for him. Accordingly, it disposed him to receive submis-
sively the truths of faith, and the instructions of St. Paul. What
shall I say of the famous criminal crucified with our blessed Saviour,
and instantly converted by the same Saviour ? Could this change
of a wicked wretch, who all on a sudden, became a vessel of elec-
tion and mercy, be attributed to human persuasion ? Doth it not
on the contrary, appear to have arisen from a supernatural and

34 ON THE PASSION OF OUR SAVIOUR.

divine principle ? If Jesus Christ had not acted as God, how could
he, dying upon the cross, have made his divinity known to this
miscreant, and have made him openly confess it ? And doth not
this miracle of grace corroborate all the prodigies of nature, by
which heaven and earth, as it were in concert, honoured this
agonizing and expiring God ?

But, you will tell me that the Pharisees, notwithstanding these
miracles, persisted in their incredulity. Granted, Christians ; but
without attempting to fathom, in what regards this matter, the deep
abysses of God's judgments — judgments equally venerable and
dreadful, you know how great a spite the Pharisees bore our
Saviour ; you know how great the power of such a passion is, in
binding minds and hardening hearts. However inconceivable the
obstinacy of the Pharisees might have been, we might perhaps find
at this day, in the world, nay, the Christian world, men as incredu-
lous, were they but to see those who differ from them work mira-
cles ; men, who would sooner attribute these miracles to hell, as
the Pharisees attributed those of our blessed Saviour to the prince
of darkness, than give up their prejudices and their hatred. Be
(hat as it may, (says St. Chrysostom,) from thence it is, that the
reprobation of the Pharisees took its rise ; and this mysterious work
of divine predestination and reprobation appeared in tliis — that
the same miracles which converted the soldiers, and a numberless
multitude of other people, served to confirm the Pharisees in their
inflexibility and indocility. But it is by this difference that we may
discover in Jesus Christ expiring, the all-powerful virtue in ques-
tion. For (as St. Chrysostom says, arguing on this topic) now,
at his dying, he distributes mercy and justice, saving some and
reprobating others ; dispensing rays of light to the blind, who lived
in the darkness of infidelity, and blinding the most enlightened,
who abused their lights ; converting those to grace, through mercy,
and suffering these to perish, through, justice : thus, to display in
his very death, those glorious and essential attributes of his divinity !

There was but one miracle which our Saviour declined working
in his passion, and that was, to save himself, as lus enemies pro-
posed to him, assuring him that if he would come down from the
cross, they would believe in him. But why did he not work this
miracle ? The reason is easily seen (says St. Augustin) : this
one miracle would have destroyed all the rest, and stopped the
course of the great work he had undertaken ; a work to which all

ON THE PASSION OF OUR SAVIOUR. 35

the others referred, as to their end ; namely, the redemption of
mankind ; a work which was to be consummated on the cross.
Moreover, his enemies, blinded by passion, would have paid no
more regard to tins miracle, than they had done to raising Laza-
rus from the dead. For if the evidence of the fact, which obliged
them to grant that Lazarus, who had been dead in his grave four
days, was incontestably resuscitated, instead of inducing them to
believe in Jesus Christ, induced them to take a resolution to
destroy him, because it was not reason, but passion, that presided at
their councils : can we suppose, that though they had seen him
disengage himself from the cross, they had been more sincere, and
better disposed to give him the glory due to him ?

But to insist no longer on what regards the Pharisees, tell me,
Christians, did Jesus Christ, in the conjuncture in which I consi-
der him, as he had it beyond all doubt in his power to save himself,
but did not choose*it, do something greater and more exceeding
the power of man, than if he had chosen to save himself ? If
we compare miracles — (lend all your attention to this, which you
have not perhaps as yet sufficiently considered, and which to me
seems extremely edifying,) — if we compare miracles, that meekness
with which he permits the soldiers to seize liis person, after casting
them upon the ground, by only presenting himself before them,
and saying these words : "I am he ;" that gentle rebuke he gave
St. Peter for the indiscretion of his zeal, whereas he drew his sword
against one of the high-priest's servants, letting him know that he
need but pray to his Father, and that his Father would send him
whole legions of angels, to discomfit his foes, and defend him ;
and, to convince him that he did not speak in vain, actually curing,
in a miraculous manner, the servant whom Peter just before had
wounded ; that so admirable a silence, and so constantly supported
before his judges, particularly Pilate, who, knowing his innocence,
questioned him only to have an opportunity of acquitting him ; that
refusal to satisfy the prince's curiosity, whose protection he might
so easily have procured ; that giving up his own cause, and conse-
quently his life ; that tranquillity and peaceful deportment in the
midst of a thousand insults ; that resolution to bear every thing,
without demanding satisfaction, without impeaching any person,
without uttering the least complaint ; that heroic charity, which
made him, as he expired on the cross, plead the excuse of his per-
secutors : was not, I say, all this, in a man, whose conduct in all

36 ON THE PASSION OF OUR SAVIOUR.

other respects was irreproachable and full of wisdom, more mira-
culous, than if he had chosen to escape the hand of his executioners,
and had diseno-acred himself from the cross ? " Christ crucified,
the power of God."

3rdly . He died, therefore, because it was his will to die ; and died
in the manner he chose to die : circumstances, according to St.
Augustin, peculiar to a God-man, and which demonstrate, even
in death, the sovereign independence of God. Now it is hereon,
Christians, I found this other proposition ; that the death of Jesus
Christ, thoroughly considered in itself, was not only a miracle, but
a miracle the most singular of all miracles. The reason of it is,
that other men die through weakness, through violence, through
necessity ; but he died, I do not say by choice, and a free dispo-
sition of his will, but by the means of his absolute power. So that
he never, as Son of God, and as God, made a greater effort of his
absolute power, than at the moment he consented that his blessed
soul should be separated from his body ; and for this, two reasons
are assigned by the schoolmen. First, say they, because Jesus Christ
being without sin, and absolutely impeccable, he could not but be
naturally immortal. Whence it follows, that as his body and soul
were united hypostatically with the divinity, they could not be se-
parated without a miracle. It was necessary, therefore, that Jesus
Christ, to bring about this separation, should break, as I may say,
through all the laws of ordinary providence, and use the whole
power he had received from God, to destroy this life, which, though
human, was nevertheless the life of a God. Secondly, because Jesus
Christ being eminently, in virtue of his priesthood, the sovereign
Pontiff of the new law, none but he could, or ought to offer to God
the sacrifice of the redemption of the world, or immolate the Victim
ordained for it. Now his body was this victim. None but him-
self, ought, therefore, to immolate this body'; none but himself had
the power necessary for that end. His executioners, it is true, were
the ministers of God's justice ; but they were not the priests, whose
duty it was to offer this sacrifice to the Deity. For that purpose,
there must be a pontiff, holy, innocent, and immaculate, separated
from the whole host of sinners, and invested with a special character.
Now this character was suitable only to Jesus Christ. Whence
St. Augustin concludes, that Jesus Christ was most wonderfully,
at the same time, the Priest offering, and the Victim offered.
It was, therefore, he himself that sacrificed himself; he himself

ON THE PASSION OF OUR SAVIOUR. 37

that exercised on himself this function of priest and pontiff; he
himself that destroyed, at least for a few days, that adorable com-
pound of a suffering body and a glorious soul ; in a word, it was
he himself that brought about his own death. His life was not
taken from him by the bloody hand of execution : he laid it down
of his own accord. "No man taketh my life from me ; but I lay
it down of myself." John x.

He died (says St. Augustin) upon the cross ; but, properly
speaking, and in rigour, he did not die by the punishment of the
cross. And to make this point appear, it is certain, from the Jews'
own testimony, that the punishment of the cross, or rather that
which made condemned criminals die upon the cross, was not merely
the being nailed to it, but the being broken alive on it. Now
Jesus Christ, according to the prophecy, had breathed his last,
when they set about to break his limbs ; and accordingly, "Pilate
marvelled if he were already dead." Mark xv. And what puts it
beyond all doubt that he died not by the failing of nature, is, that
"he gave up the ghost, crying out with a loud voice :" a thing so
extraordinary, as the evangelist reports: "When the centurion,
who stood over against him, saw that he so cried out, and gave up
the ghost, he said, Truly, this man was the Son of God." Mark xv.
Had the centurion, who thus reasoned, been a disciple of our
Saviour, perhaps his reasoning and testimony might have been sus-
pected. But he is an infidel, who justly concludes, without hesi-
tation, from what he observes, that the manner in which Jesus
Christ dies is wholly miraculous ; and from this miracle, seeing
that he so gave up the ghost, he draws the consequence, " Truly,
this man was the Son of God." What need there more to make good
the great apostle's words, "Christ crucified, the power of God?"

True, it is, our blessed Redeemer was not exempt from weak-
ness and sorrow at his death. To this I might answer, with the
prophet, that the sorrows and weaknesses which he discovered were
not his own, but ours ; and the wonder is, "that he truly bore our
weaknesses, and carried our sorrows." Isaiah xv. But as this
thought, however solid, seems too refined for worldly and unbeliev-
ing minds, I answer otherwise with St. Chrysostom, and I say,
yes ; our Saviour had his weaknesses; and the wonder is, that these
weaknesses were so many distinct miracles, in the course of his
sacred passion. For If he sweats during his prayer in the garden, it
is blood he sweats ; and so copiously, that the ground is bedewed

38 ON THE PASSION OF OUR SAVIOUR.

with it. If, a few moments after he expires, his side is laid open
with a lance, blood and water issue forth from it, and he who
relates the fact, assures us, that he himself saw it, and that his testi-
mony deserves credit ; one would imagine, that he dies and suf-
fers only to display the power of God in his person: "Christ
crucified, the power of God."

4thly. Proceed we now to the last, but most essential proof: it
is to see a man, whom the ignominy, the confusion, and infinite
humiliation of his death, raised to all the glory which a God can
assume : insomuch, that at the mentioning of his name, and sight
of his cross, the most mighty powers of the world bend the knee,
and fill prostrate, to pay him homage for their greatness: "He
humbled himself, and became obedient unto death ; even the death
of the cross. Upon which account, God hath so exalted him, that
at the name of Jesus, every knee should bow ; of those in heaven,
and those on earth, and those under the earth." Phil. ii. This
is what God revealed to St. Paul, at a time when all things seemed
to combine in opposition to the fulfilling of this prediction ; at a
time when, after the views of human prudence, this prediction must
have been looked upon as chimerical ; at a time when the name of
Jesus was held in abhorrence. Nevertheless, the apostle's predic-
tion is fulfilled. What was an article of faith for the Christians of
those times, is it not, in some measure, so for us, in that we are wit-
nesses of the thing, and are not under the necessity of captivating
our understandings to believe it ? The powers of the earth now
bend the knee before Christ crucified. Our sovereigns, nay, our
greatest sovereigns, are foremost in setting us the example ; and it
depends upon ourselves to comfort ourselves, and say to ourselves :
this is that which St. Paul foretold ; and that which in the days
of St. Paul I should have rejected as a dream, I see is evident,
and past all doubt. Now, beloved Christians, a man whose cross
(as St. Augustin finely expresses it) is gone from the infamous
place of execution, to be made an ornament to the brows of em-
perors : a man, who without aid or arms, by the sole virtue of the
cross, vanquished idolatry, triumphed over the power of supersti-
tion, destroyed the worship of false gods, conquered the whole
universe: a man who, as the church sings, could reign where
others cease to live, that is, could reign upon the rood, which was
the instrument of his death : and, what is still more to be wondered
at. a man who had declared in his life-time, that all this would

- ON THE TASSION OF OUR SAVIOUR. 39

come to pass ; "I, if I be lifted up from the earth, will draw every
tiling unto me ; this he said, signifying what death he should die ;"
(John xii.) is not such a man more than man ? Is he not man and
God, too? What virtue hath not the cross, on which we behold
his image had, to make the people pay him adoration ! How
many apostles of his gospel ; how many imitators of his virtues ;
how many confessors ; how many martyrs ; how many holy souls
devoted to his worship ; how many disciples fired with zeal for
his honour and glory ; or, in more comprehensive terms, how
many nations; Iioav many kingdoms; how many empires hath
he drawn to him by the undiscoverable, but all-powerful virtue
of this cross! "Christ crucified, the power of God."

Alas! my brethren, the Pharisees saw the miracles of this
crucified God, and were not converted. This is almost incom-
prehensible. But tell me, is not that which happens in our-
selves as incomprehensible ? For we actually see a greater mira-
cle in the death of Jesus Christ, a subsisting miracle, an averred
and incontestable miracle: I mean the triumph of the cross;
the world converted ; the world made Christian ; the world sanc-
tified by the cross. "I, if I be lifted up from the earth, will
draw every thing unto me." This we see ; and yet, notwithstanding
this miracle, our faith is languid, weak, and unanimated. This
we ought to lament with tears ; this ought to make our blood
run cold. But to profit by this mystery, instead of lamenting
through a sentiment of a short, superficial devotion, let us la-
ment in the spirit of salutary compunction. Jesus Christ worked
miracles at his death; he must work another that will crown
all the rest, and that is, the miracle of our conversion. He split
rocks ; disclosed sepulchres, and tore assunder the veil of the
temple : the sight of the cross must split our hearts, perhaps
harder than those rocks ; it must disclose our consciences, perhaps
to this time, shut up like sepulchres ; it must tear our flesh, this
flesh of sin, by the holy rigours of penitence. For why should
not this dying God convert us, since he converted the perpetra-
tors of his death ? And when will he convert us, if not on this
day, when his precious blood is shed in abundance for our
salvation and sanctification ?

Ye sinners who hear me, this it is that should fill you with
confidence. As long as you are sinners, you are in that quality,
enemies of Jesus Christ ; you are his persecutors. Shall I say it ?

40 ON THE PASSION OF OUR SAVIOUR.

and as St. Paul hath said it before me, why should I not say it ?
you are his executioners. For, as often as it happens that you
yield to temptation, and commit sin, you crucify afresh the Saviour
of men within yourselves. Let it be remembered, however, that
the blood of this God-man hath had the power and efficacy to blot
out the sin even of those Jews who spilt it. In this it is (says St.
Augustin) that the virtue of Jesus Christ's redemption appeared ;
in this it is that he appeared a Saviour. Of his enemies he made
chosen servants ; of his persecutors he made saints. Sinners as
you are, and how great soever, have you not, therefore, all
imaginable right to hope in his divine mercy ? Approach the
sacred throne of his grace, which is his cross ; but approach it with
contrite and humble hearts; submissive hearts ; hearts purified from
the corruptions of the world ; docile hearts, and susceptible of the
impression of the heavenly spirit ; for such is the miracle which this
saving God would operate in you to-day by the virtue of his cross.
Your return to God, a perfect return, after having gone astray so
long ; your repentance, an exemplary and speedy repentance, after
so many scandals and disorders ; the profession you shall make, an
open profession of living like Christians, after having lived so long
like libertines, is the miracle which will prove that Jesus Christ
crucified, is personally the force and power of God.

Ah ! my Lord, shall I be so happy as to find that this miracle
is visibly accomplished in my hearers, as it was effectually accom-
plished in the soldiers who were present at your death, a great
number of whom adhered to you, as to the author of their sal-
vation ? Will you give, 0 Lord ! for that purpose, a sufficient
blessing to my words ? and may I entertain the pleasing hope,
that, among those who hear my words, some will have
the centurion's feelings ; that is, will depart, after this discourse,
not only affected, but converted ; not only bathed in tears, but
determined to glorify God by their good works ; not only per-
suaded, but sanctified and moved by the Christian sentiments
with which this first part shall have inspired them ? Though the
unbelieving Jews is scandalized at the cross ; Jesus Christ dying
is the power and force of God made flesh : " Christ crucified, the
power of God." This you have seen in the first part. Though
the Gentile laughs at it, and considers the cross as foolishness ;
Jesus Christ dying is the wisdom of God himself: " Christ cru-
cified, the wisdom of God." This you shall see in the second part.

ON THE PASSION OF OUR SAVIOUR. 41

Part II. How just, how holy, how incomprehensible soever
Almighty God is in all his works, and in his revealing himself to
us ; yet it is not surprising that man, on account of his pride, and
ignorance, hath oftentimes taken upon him to censure the works of
the Lord, and been so rash as to take scandal at them. The
thoughts of man and those of God being, as the sacred text
expresses it, since the fall of the first man, so opposite as they are
to one another, this scandal was a necessary consequence of it in
some measure. What should surprise us still more is, that man
(as St. Gregory, pope, observes) is scandalized at the goodness of
God ; at the prodigies of the love of God ; at the abundance and
excess of the mercies of God. It was into this irregularity that
the heresiarch Marcion fell, when, under the pretext of a false zeal
for the Son of God, he would not believe that the Son of God
either verily suffered upon the cross, or verily died upon it ; as if
the cross and death had been absolutely beneath the majesty and
holiness of God. Against this error God raised up Tertullian,
who openly attacked it, and was thereby considered as the cham-
pion of the sufferings, death, and passion of Jesus Christ; an
error, which, notwithstanding the establishment of the Christian
religion, is, perhaps, but too general at this day ; an error against
which my duty obliges me, on this occasion, to exert the whole
force of the word of God. Renew your attention, I beseech you.
The mystery of a crucified God appears to modern philosophers,
as well as to the Gentiles, a folly ; and St. Paul, on the contrary,
declares, that in regard to the elect and predestinate, it is a mystery
of God's wisdom : " Unto them who are called, Christ crucified,
the wisdom of God." Now let us examine which of the two, the
apostle or the philosopher, hath formed the best and most rational
judgment : the apostle, after being instructed in it by our Saviour
himself in a miraculous manner; the philosopher, who knows
nothing of it, but what hath been revealed to him by flesh and blood.
Let us examine whether in this seemingly so sublime a mystery,
and beyond the depth of our weak reason, there is, in fact, any
thing repugnant to reason : for, God will not reject the judgment
of our reason ; and provided that our reason is neither prepossessed
nor obstinate, he is willing to admit it into the council of his wis-
dom, and answer to the difficulties it may allege. .

Which, and how many, beloved Christians, are the 'points in
question, relatively to the present mystery? There are two,

D

42 ON THE PASSION OF OUR SAVIOUR.

(replies St. Leo,) both of them equally difficult and necessary ;
namely, to satisfy God, offended and dishonoured ; and to reform
man, perverted and corrupted. These were the ends for which
Jesus Christ was sent, and to which the mission he received was
directed. Now, I ask you : . in order to attain these two ends,
God as lie was, could he have taken a more powerful, a more
effectual, and a more infallible means than the cross ? And can we
ourselves, with all our supposed power of reasoning, imagine to
ourselves another in which the proportions would be observed, I
do not say with more, but with equal exactness ? Let us go to
Calvary, and having contemplated what passes there, let us study
our religion, of which we have here the height and depth, which
St. Paul so ardently wished to comprehend.

1st. Satisfaction must be made to God, and none but a God-
made man can make it : this stands to reason. What hath this
God-made man done ? Alas ! Christians, what hath he not done ?
Hath he not, with a view to cancel our debts, had the greatest
care to pitch upon that which could solely and sovereignly fill up
the measure of the satisfactions Almighty God expected, and had
a right to expect ? In what consisted the offence committed
against God ? In this, that man, forgetting himself, proudly
affected to be like God: " Ye shall be as gods/' And I, says
God-made man, who am not only like to God, but equal and
consubstantial with him, through a very different kind of forged-
fulness of myself, will become the outcast of men: " a worm of
the earth, and no man ;" Ps. xxi. ; for these are the very words
the prophet makes him utter upon the cross. Is it possible to
conceive a more authentic reparation ? Man, by revolting against
God, had shaken off the yoke of obedience, and violated the
command of his sovereign; and I, says God, made man, quite
independent as I am of myself, will freely submit to the most
painful humiliations : "I will be obedient unto death, even the
death of the cross." Phil. ii. I will obey not only God, but men,
nay, men the most criminal ; the most vicious ; the most sacri-
legious, who are my persecutors and executioners ; I will obey
not only the wise, righteous, and equitable decrees of heaven, but
those of the earth — mil of injustice, iniquity, and cruelty ; I will
obey not only powers in whom there is no authority lodged over
me, but powers combined to oppress and crush me ; and by this
voluntary submission, I will obliterate the crime of man, rebellions

ON THE PASSION OF OUR SAVIOUR. 43

to his Creator's law. Upon this very account it was (says St.
Bernard) that he would not come down from the cross, choosing
rather to leave the Jews in their incredulity, than to convince
them by a miracle of his own will ; and more desirous to fulfil and
obey his Father's orders, than convert and save them by not
obeying. Man, by a criminal intemperance in tasting the forbidden
fruit, had indulged his palate with a forbidden pleasure ; and I,
says God-made man, who need refuse myself no delight, will
present myself to my heavenly Father, as a man of sorrows ; a
victim of penitence ; a lamb led to the bloody sacrifice. For, it
was in his passion, that, animated with zeal for the glory and
interests of Almighty God, he conceived this design, and carried
it into execution : " Sacrifice and offering thou wouldst not, O
God," says he, in the inmost recesses of his heart, at the moment
he was crucified, as he had said, according to the testimony of St.
Paul, when he came into the world — (mark these words, Chris-
tians, which so thoroughly express the ground-work and essence
of this mystery) — " Sacrifice and offering thou wouldst not, but a
body thou hast fitted to me. Burnt-offerings for sin have given thee
no pleasure ; then said I : Lo, I come." Heb. x. Venerable
words, which even, according to the letter, should be understood
of that which passed upon Mount Calvary ; whereas it was there
that Jesus Christ, in quality of high priest, terminated the sacrifice
of the old law, by the consummation of the sacrifice of the law of
grace. It was there, that, upon the altar of the cross, he solemnly
sacrificed his divine person ; it was there that he spilt his own
blood, not the blood of goats and bulls : and, to speak in plainer,
and more precise terms, it was there that he satisfied God ; not by
any thing foreign or extraneous, but by himself, and at his own
cost. Now this is what I denominate the work of God's wisdom.
Further, this Saviour of men hath made us thoroughly com-
prehend that, which, of itself, was incomprehensible, and from a
knowledge of which we should have been shut out to all eternity :
what God is ; what sin is ; what salvation is. Three things, to
which the whole wisdom of man is referred, and the knowledge of
which, both for you and for me, was essentially annexed to the
mystery of Christ Jesus dying on the cross. What is God ? A
being, for whose glory it was requisite that a God-man should be
humbled and debased, even on the cross. This is the idea I con-
ceive of him, on this occasion. Nothing else conveys a sufficient

d2

44 ON THE PASSION OF OUR SAVIOt'B.

knowledge of God. Whatever I discover respecting him in nature ;
whatever theology dictates concerning him ; whatever the scrip-
tures set forth, and the light of glory shall reveal relating to him,
is, properly speaking, a shadow, and no more. On Mount Calvary
it is, that faith makes me see, as it were, in the clearest point of
light, this God as great as he is ; because I there behold a God-
man immolated, to make known what he is. Nor hath God
himself (shall I venture to say it ?) a more sublime idea of the
divinity of his essence, than that he beholds himself glorified by
the cross of a God-man ; I say more, than that he would not be
otherwise satisfied than by the cross of a God-man. What is sin ?
An evil for which it was necessary that a God-man should become
anathema, and an object of malediction : " Being made a curse for
us." Gal. iii. This, is what the mystery of the cross exhibits to
me. How sin could draw down upon us such terrible chastise-
ments, wras beyond my power of comprehending ; and taking upon
me to arraign and censure the decrees of God, I would know the
reason of that dreadful eternity of pains which the rigour of his
justice inflicts on the reprobated souls in hell. But I perceived
my ignorance was such, that I had never thoroughly considered
the mystery of Jesus Christ's death. For, the death of a God,
ordained as a means necessary to the abolition of sin, makes me,
more clearly than I would choose, understand the proportion there
is between sin, which is an offence against the Almighty, and the
eternal duration of hell, which is the punishment the sinner is
doomed to. Admitting the one, there is no difficulty in the other.
And convinced by Jesus Christ's own argument : " If they do
these things in a green tree, what shall be done in a dry ?"
Luke xxiii. If the Son and the innocent be thus treated, what
will become of the slave and the culpable ? I am no longer
astonished at the rigour of God's judgments, or at the excess of
his wrath and vengeance ; but I am astonished at my own astonish-
ment. What is the salvation of man ? A good which hath cost
the life of a God, and for which a God-man did not think the
expenditure excessive, in making a sacrifice of himself. Such is
the lesson which this divine Master teaches me, expiring on the
cross. I made light of this salvation; and by my negligence
exposed it to hazard. A vain interest, a false honour, a momen-
tary pleasure, made me give it up. But come, (says this crucified
God, by the voice of his blood,) come and see, by the expense of

OS THE PASSION OF OUtt SAVIOUR. 45

what I suffer, how great the value of thy soul is. Thou csteemest
thyself, but not sufficiently. Contemplate attentively thyself us
me ; thou wilt see what thou art, and what is thy value. Thou
must prize thyself by my merits ; for I am thy price ; and that
salvation, which thou givest up on so many occasions, is nothing
but what I am myself, since I deliver myself up for the securing
of it. In this manner, I say, he speaks to me. Now this alone
were sufficient to make me conclude with St. Paul, that the
mystery of the cross is, therefore, a mystery of the divine wisdom.
For (as St Chrysostom argues) a mystery that gives me such
high ideas of God ; that inspires me with an infinite horror of sin ;
that makes me value my salvation preferable to all past, present,
future, and even possible things, in whatever point of view I behold
it, should appear in my eyes a mystery of wisdom. Sentiments so
reasonable, so elevated and sublime, cannot be supposed to originate
from an erroneous principle. Nothing but wisdom, nay, the
wisdom of God, can impart them to me ; and, for this reason, the
apostle ol the Gentiles, possessed with a belief of this mystery,
made open profession of knowing nothing, except Jesus Christ,
and him crucified. For in this crucified Jesus he found, in an
excellent and compendious manner, whatever he wanted to know ;
that is, the eminent knowledge of God, and the salutary knowledge
of himself : " I judged not to know any thing among you, save
Jesus Christ, and him crucified."

2ndly. But let us dive farther into so edifying and wonderful a
mystery, and discuss the second motive to the mission of Jesus
Christ, and to his function as a Saviour. After satisfying God,,
the point was to reform man, who was fallen not only into irregu-
larity, but into the extreme and abyss of all irregularities. This
irregularity of man, (says St. John,) arose from three springs :
from the lust of the eyes ; from the lust of the flesh ; and from the
pride of life : that is, from an insatiable thirst of temporal posses-
sions ; a passionate desire of worldly honours ; and an excessive
attachment to the pleasures of the senses. The point was to cure
these three great evils ; and these are the remedies which the Son
of God brought down from heaven for that purpose, and with
which he presents us this day in his sacred passion : the want of
every thing, and the nakedness in which he dies, against the
inordinate love of riches, and the avarice that worries our hearts ;
the prodigious debasement to which he is reduced, against the

46 ON THE PASSION OF OUR SAVIOUR.

projects of ambition that prey upon us ; the austerities of a virgin
flesh, ernbruecl with blood, and torn with stripes, against the
softness and sensuality that corrupt us. Infallible and sure reme-
dies ; remedies, which it depends on ourselves to apply to ourselves
which it depends on ourselves to profit by ; and in which appear
all the providence, and all ihe wisdom of the Physician that pre-
pares them for us. Let us beware of prepossession ; and let us
do justice to ourselves once, in order to do it to God eternally.

Is it not evident, beloved hearers, that the mystery of the cross
hath an essential opposition to these three principles, from whence
flow all the irregularities of our life ? Is it not evident, that
this mystery alone condemns all your injustices ; all your violences ;
all your hatreds ; all your scandalous communications ; all your
debaucheries? And doth it not evidently follow from thence,
that it is a mystery in which the wisdom of God hath presided ?
Is it not evident, that what checks and moderates our desires,
regulates our passions, confounds our pride ; tears from our hearts
the love of ourselve,s in a word, corrects all our vices, and keeps
us to order, must be the effect of good order, and, by consequence,
of the supreme wisdom which is in God ? What a change would
there be, if all mankind, with one unanimous consent, had agreed
among themselves to live after the example of Jesus Christ, and
after the lessons he hath taught them in his passion ; so that this
crucified God should be the rule by which the world was governed !
To what an amazing degree of perfection would the world, now
so corrupt, be raised at once ! In what modesty would this view
of the cross, which would always be present to them, inspire the
great ; and what submission it would teach the lower order ?
Would the rich make an ill use of then riches, and would the poor
complain of their poverty ? Would they who suffer, murmur
against God in their sufferings ; and would the prosperous ones of
the world, forget God by forgetting themselves in their prosperity ?
Would revenge and treachery disgrace the ties of human society ?
Would self-interest take the lead in our determinations ? Woidd
jealousy and ambition foment and raise divisions and troubles?
Would candour, probity, and uprightness, be discarded? Pro-
portionably as men are now irregular, their coMuct would be
regulated by wisdom and justice ; and their whole life adorned with
innocence, purity, and truth.

But why was it requisite, that Jesus Christ, without partaking

ON THE PASSION OF OUR SAVIOUR. 4?

of our evil doings, should experience the remedies in his own
person ? Ah ! my brethren, (replies St. Augustin,) as these
remedies are so bitter, how could he contrive it better than to
experience them in his own person, in order to sweeten them, and
induce us to adopt the use of them ? How should we have been
able by any other means to taste them ? And in order to induce
us to take them, was not the example of a God necessary ? In
the supposition that this God-man, instead of the cross, had chosen
the comforts of life to save us ; would not our self-love, the original
cause of all corruption, have taken the advantage, and availed itself
of it ? In that case, could I with a good grace require of yon, as
I now do, the mortification of the senses ; the crucifying of the
flesh ; the renouncing of yourselves ; the humility of penance ?
And would not this idea of your God, in the splendor of honours
and enjoyment of pleasures, be an unsurmountable prepossession
against all my reasonings ? But what force doth not this example
of a God, dying upon the cross, give to my ministry and to my
words ? And have I not now sufficient authority to tell you, that
you must be humble, mortified, and disengaged from worldly
pomps ? Which in the above supposition, I could not have done
with advantage to you, nor credit to myself. Now, doth it not
manifest the wisdom of God, that he enables the ministers of Jesus
Christ, and preachers of his gospel, to silence you, when they
preach and explain to you the most difficult duties of your religion,
and put it out of your power to reply, when they reproach you
with the extreme and seemingly unconquerable aversion you have
to put them in practice ? But why reform one excess by another
excess ? excess in man, by excess in God ? And I say, what
wisdom to have reformed excess of malignity, by excess of per-
fection ! excess of iniquity, by excess of holiness ! excess of gratitude,
by excess of love ! In order to withdraw man from the vices, into
which he was by corrupt nature carried, was it not just and
becoming he should lean to the opposite virtues ? In the violence
of his passion, would he have kept a just temperature between
extremes ? And was it not necessary, in order to extinguish in him
the fire of avarice, ambition, and impurity ; to make him love poverty,
humility, and austerity ? For, that he might save us in a perfect
manner, it was not enough for Jesus Christ to come and tell us,
these three vices were our destruction ; it was necessary he should
come in such a manner as should engage us to attack them, to

48 ON THE PASSION OF OUR SAVIOUR.

overcome them, and to banish them from our hearts. They were
our destruction ; for they debauched our reason, and poisoned our
hearts ; and if we had retained any love and esteem for them, we
should not have been saved but by halves. It was necessary,
therefore, that the virtues opposed to these vices, should become,
not only supportable to us, but lovely, pleasing, precious, and
venerable. Now for this purpose, what could the increated Word
of God find more marvellous, than to consecrate them in his own
person ; to the end, (as St. Augustin excellently remarks,) the
humility of man should have wherewith, in the humility of God,
to support itself, and bear itself up against the attacks of pride ?

And this, beloved Christians, I presume, is sufficient, not only
to convince, but to confound our reason in the judgment of God :
and heaven grant that this judgment of God, in which our reason
must be convinced of its errors, and confounded, is not already in
its commencement, respecting us. For, from tins day forward,
this dying Saviour hath taken it to himself, as his own province,
to judge the world ; and the cross was the first tribunal on which
he appeared pronouncing decrees, either of life or of death ; either
in favour of man, or against him. It is not a particular sentiment
with winch piety inspires me, but a truth which faith teaches me,
when I assert, that the judgment of God commenced at the
moment the passion of Jesus Christ commenced, as he explains
himself in such terms to his apostles : " Now is the judgment of
this world." John xii. The holy evangelist means not to inspire
us with vain terrors, when he assures us, that the cross, to which
this God-man was nailed, will be produced at the end of the
world, as a rule of the judgment which God will pass on us at the
end of ages, and on the rest of mankind : " Then the sign of the
Son of man shall appear." Matt. xxiv. Dreadful thought for a
worldly man ! The cross of Jesus Christ it is that will judge us ;
that cross, the enemy of our passions ; that cross which we have
honoured in speculation, but abhorred in practice ; that cross which
we ought to have turned to advantage, we have so often by our
sins forfeited its merits. With this cross we shall be confronted :
" Then the sign of the Son of man shall appear." Whatever shall
not be conformed to it, will bear the character of reprobation.
Now what resemblance can we discover between this cross and our
libertinism; between this cross and our vanity; between this cross
and our sensual life ?

ON THE RESURRECTION OF OUR LORD. 49

All ! my Lord, shall we then be condemned by the greatest of
your benefits, and the very pledge of our salvation ? And shall
that winch was only intended to reconcile us to you, serve to render
us more criminal, and more odious in your divine presence ? But,
on the other hand — comfortable thought for a faithful soul ! — the
cross of Christ Jesus it is that must determine his lot ; that cross
in which he placed his confidence; that cross which gave him
strength and courage, and still inspires him with fresh resolution
in his sufferings ; that cross which he devoutly wishes to be the
living image. O crucified God ! receive my homage ; approve
the sentiments of my heart ; and let your cross, after being the
subject of my veneration, and still more the object of my imitation,
be eternally for you and me — a token of benediction.

SEKMON III.

ON THE RESURRECTION OE OUR LORD.

" The angel making answer, said to the women : Ye seek Jesus
of Nazareth, who was crucified ; he is risen, he is not here ;
behold the place ivhere they laid him" Mark xvi.

These words are very different from those which we generally
see engraven on the tombs of men. How powerful soever they
may have been, what is the amount of those grand eulogiums given
them, and which we read on those superb monuments erected to
their memory by human vanity ? To this melancholy inscription,
here lieth. This grandee; this renowned conqueror; this man, so
vaunted among the sons of men, notwithstanding all his power
and greatness, under this marble stone lies blended with common
dust. But far otherwise is the case with respect to Jesus Christ.
Shut up in the bosom of the earth, he rises again the third day,
victorious, and environed around with light, insomuch, that the
devout women who came in quest of him ; and who, not finding
him, would know the reason of it, receive no other intelligence
than that he is risen again : " He is not here.' ' This, as Isaiah
foretold, is what renders his sepulchre glorious. As the glory,

50 ON THE RESURRECTION OF OUR LORD.

therefore, of the great ones of this world terminates in the grave,
so it is in the grave that the glory of this God-man commences.
It is there — it is, as I may say, in the centre of weakness that he
chooses to exert his power ; and that in the very arms of death he
resumes a blissful and immortal life. An admirable change this,
beloved Christians, which is to give stability to his church, admi-
nister comfort and spirit to his disciples, and be a lasting foundation
to Christian faith and hope ; for these are, or these ought to be,
the effects of our Saviour' s resurrection, as I am going to make
appear in this discourse .

And truly, Christians, one of the most solid foundations of our

faith, and of our hope, is the glorious resurrection of Jesus Christ.

This I say with St. Augustan ; and keeping to his thought, I

find a division the most regular, and a plan the most complete,

for a discourse upon this topic. For according to him, the Son of

/ God exhibits to us at once, a great miracle, and a great example :

a great miracle, to confirm our faith ; and a great example, to

quicken our hope. In fact, it is on the resurrection of our Saviour,

that the two most important truths of Christianity are founded ;

f one of which is, as it were, the basis of all religion ; namely, that

/ Jesus Christ is God : and the other, the source of all evangelical

morals ; namely, that we shall rise again ourselves one day, like

j Jesus Christ. This, therefore, beloved Christians, without further

preface, is what I have, on this solemnity, to lay before you.

1st. The miracle of Jesus Christ's resurrection, is an incontes-
table proof of his divinity ; and by that means he confirms our
faith.

2ndly. The example of Jesus Christ's resurrection, is a certain
pledge of our future resurrection ; and by that means he animates
our hope.

These two positions are of the utmost consequence. In the
first of which, Jesus Christ will teach us, by his resurrection,
what he is ; and in the second, he will teach us what we shall be.
Both the one and the other includes whatever is most elevated and
sublime in the Christian religion. May heaven grant that they
conduce equally to your instruction and edification.

Part I. It is an awful saying, beloved Christians, a saying that
deserves to be heard with all the respect with which religion is
capable of inspiring us, when St. Paul tells us, that the mys-
tery of the resurrection hath planted in the world the belief of

ON THE RESURRECTION OF OUR LORD. 51

the divinity of Jesus Christ ; "who was predestinated the Son
of God in power, by the resurrection of our Lord Jesus Christ."
Rom. i. Thus spoke the apostle, persuaded of the evidence, and
affected with the greatness of this truth. We adore a Saviour,
beloved brethren, who was predestinated the Son of God, in virtue
of his glorious resurrection. Instead of predestinated, the
Greek and Syriac versions have it manifested and declared ; but
these two versions St. Ambrose conciliates, by saying, that Jesus
Christ, who was a hidden God in his incarnation, was, according
to the order of his eternal predestination, to be a revealed God,
and a known God in his resurrection. I doubt, beloved hearers,
you have never considered another very remarkable proposition of
the same apostle, in that excellent discourse he delivered before
the people of Antioch, and which is recorded in the Acts of
the Apostles. These are his words: "And we declare to you,
that the promise which was made to our fathers, this same hath
God fulfilled unto us their children, raising up Jesus Christ again ;
as in the second psalm it is written: Thou art my beloved
Son, this day have I begotten thee." Acts. xiii. What doth
this mean, beloved Christians ; and of what day doth the apostle
speak ? If it was that on which Jesus Christ, as Son of God,
and the increated Word, was begotten of his Father, with what
propriety could he apply it to the mystery of Ids resurrection ?
And if he understood it of the day on which Jesus Christ, as
God-man, arose from the dead, according to the flesh, with what
propriety could he mention his eternal generation? "Raising
up Jesus, as it is written, this day have I begotten thee."
What affinity is there between them ? An admirable one, replies
St, Ambrose. Never did the apostle speak more consequentially,
because the resurrection of Jesus Christ was a second birth for liim,
but more happy and more advantageous than the first ; as, being
born, as it were, again of the sepulchre, he visibly displayed the
character of Son of God in his person. And upon this account it
is, that the eternal Father, in this mystery, owns him in a par-
ticular manner, and bespeaks him in these words, to be understood
in a particular sense : " Thou art my Son, this day have I begotten
thee." Yes, my Son, it is on this day that I begot you a second
time ; but in a manner that makes out perfectly the greatness of
your origin, and the truth of that divine existence which you
received from me. As who shoidd say, so long as you tarried

52 ON THE RESURRECTION OF OUR LOUD.

upon earth, though you were inoontrovertably the Son of God,
you were considered only, and treated in quality of Son of man.
But now, that you triumph over death, and are regenerated to a
life of glory, you bear so authentic a testimony to yourself of the
divinity which dwells in you, that henceforward it cannot be a
matter of debate ; and although I have always been your Father,
at all times, and from all eternity, I look upon it to-day as a
special honour ; distinguishing this blessed day from all the other
days which have made up your eternal decree, and fixing it to
declare to the universe, that you are my Son. " Thou art my Son,
this day have I begotten thee."

But let us examine this matter further ; and in-order to be well
instructed in a truth so essential as this, let us see in what sense,
and what manner it is true to say, that the resurrection of Jesus
Christ establishes particularly the belief of his divinity. For, you
will ask me, did not the Saviour of mankind, during the whole
course of his mortal life, perform miracles that proved the suffi-
ciency of the quality which he assumed of Son of God ? Were
not the dispossessing of demoniacs, the bestowing on the dark
the enjoyment of light, the raising the dead to life, so many pal-
pable and evident demonstrations of the extraordinary and wholly
divine power that resided in him ? What could there be more
particular in his resurrection to confirm this belief? Be attentive,
Christians ; this is the difficulty, and, as it were, decisive point of
the mystery I am treating of. I say, that the revelation of Jesus
Christ's divinity was particularly annexed to his resurrection;
"who was predestinated the Son of God, by the resurrection of the
dead ;" and that for four reasons, or rather for one reason included
in these four propositions, because his resurrection Avas the proof
which Jesus Christ was to give the Jews, in order to make them
know his divinity ; because this, in fact, was the most natural and
most convincing proof of his divinity ; because of all the miracles
which Jesus Christ wrought by the power of his divinity, there
was not one of which the evidence was so incontestable as that of
the resurrection of his body ; and because it is that which hath
been of all the most conducive to the propagation of the faith,
and the planting of the gospel, of which the substance and the
sum are, to believe in Jesus Christ, and confess his divinity : upon
which account, the Christians of the first ages, desirous of express-
ing in one word, the idea they conceived of oxu- Saviour's resur-

ON THE RESURRECTION OF OUR LORD. 53

rection, by a usage they received among themselves, called it simply
the testimony. Insomuch, that the emperor Constantine, havino-
built a magnificent church in the new Jerusalem, under the title
of " Jesus Christ Risen," gave it the denomination of martyrium,
that is, testimony. And St. Cyril, patriarch of that city, gives
the reason of it ; namely, that this church was consecrated to a
mystery which Almighty God himself had chosen to bear solemn
testimony to the divinity of his Son. This you shall see, beloved
Christians, in the exposition of these four articles which I am now
going to elucidate.

1st. For, in the first place, is it not an excellent remark, that as
often as Jesus Christ is pressed in the gospel by the Jews, relatively
to a proof of his divinity, he never gives any but his resurrection,
which he makes use of either to convince their understandings, or
to confound their incredulity ? This unbelieving people (says he)
require a miracle to be ascertained of what I am ; and no other
miracle shall they have than that of the prophet Jonas, or rather
than that which was typified by the prophet Jonas ; namely, that
after having been shut up three days in the bowels of the earth,
I shall come forth from it, as Jonas came forth from the whale's
belly : " An evil and adulterous generation seeketh after a si on ;
and a sign shall not be given it, but the sign of the prophet Jonas."
Matt.xii. You ask me, (he adds,) addressing himself to the Pharisees,
by what miracle I prove that I have a right to use the absolute
power and independent authority I attribute to myself : "What
sign dost thou show us, seeing thou doest these things ?" John ii.
Now it is from hence that I would have you form your judgment of
it. I show it by this ; that after you shall have destroyed, by a cruel
and violent death, this visible temple, which is my body, I will
restore it to its pristine state, nay, a state more perfect than it was
in before. " Destroy this temple, and in three days I will raise it
up." John ii. Be pleased, Christians, to take notice. He might
have alleged a hundred other miracles, which he had worked in
the midst of them, and before their eyes ; but he chooses to sup-
press them all. And, indeed, one would imagine, that when he
performed them, he had nothing less in view than to make his
divinity known to mankind. For, if he changes water into wine
at the marriage-feast, it is, as it were, through a constrained and
filial deference to his mother's request. If he dispossesses the
Chanaan woman's daughter, it is to get rid of that woman's

54 ON THE RESURRECTION OF OUR LORD.

importunity. If he restores the widow's son to life, it is through
mere pity and compassion. Moreover, in the greatest part of these
supernatural actions, after the operation of his omnipotence, he
recommends secrecy to those who have experienced the virtue of it.
And when to three disciples he discovers the glory of his transfigu-
ration, where his heavenly Father, speaking in person, acknow-
ledges him for his beloved Son, he forbids them to publish a tittle
of it before his resurrection : " Tell the vision to no man, till the
Son of man be risen from the dead." John xvii. The reason of it
is, (St. Chrysostom tells us,) that the resurrection of Jesus Christ
having been ordained by Almighty God to be the sign of his divine
filiation, it was his resurrection that was to have set the seal of
authenticity to all the other miracles, and be their finishing and
consummate proof. On this one was hinged the belief of all the rest.
For this Saviour of men having said : "lam equal to my Father,
God as he is ;" and to make good what I advance, " I will rise
from the dead the third day after my death/' If he had not been
what he said he was, he could not possibly have risen from the
dead, because Almighty God, in that case, by concurring to the
miracle of his resurrection, would have authorised an imposture
and a lie. If, therefore, he rose again, after this declaration, it is
a necessary consequence that he must have been God. As he was
God, all his other miracles subsisted, because it is natural to a
God to work miracles. And on the other hand, if he had not risen
again, the belief of his divinity would have been destroyed by his
own declaration ; his divinity destroyed ; his miracles would be
no longer of force ; his words would have been falsities ; his life,
artifice and delusion ; all Christian faith a chimerical phantom. And
this is the literal sense of that passage in St. Paul : "If Christ be
not risen again, then is our preaching vain, and vain also is your
faith." 1 Cor. xv. All this, as I said, because Jesus Christ had
made the resurrection of his body the distinguishing characteristic
of his divinity.

2ndly. But why did he choose that, preferably to all others ? Ah !
Christians, what could he choose more glorious or more striking,
than to raise himself from death to life ? Miracles (says St. Augus-
tin) are for intelligent beings, the language and the voice of God ;
and of all miracles the greatest is, the resurrection of the dead. But of
all resurrections, (continues this holy doctor,) is it not much the
greatest to give one's self life, and to raise one's self by our own

ON THE RESURRECTION OF OUR LORD. 55

power ? It was not, therefore, without reason that Jesus Christ
insisted particularly on this sign, to make it appear thai he was
God, and the Son of God. In reality, none but God can with
propriety say : "I have power to lay down my life, and I have
power to take it up again." John x. One is as easy to me as the
other ; and as I shall quit it only/when I will, so I shall resume it when
I please. None, I say, but God, can express himself in this manner.
Before Jesus Christ came into the world, (mind this observation of
St. Ambrose, an observation equally solid and ingenious) — before
Jesus Christ came into the world, men had been restored to life,
but restored by other men. Elisha, by his breath, had infused life
into the dead body of the Shunamite's son ; and the child of the
widow woman of Zarephath, who died through weakness, and a
decay of nature, had been, by the prayer of Elijah, brought to life,
and delivered in full vigour and strength to his disconsolate mother.
But (as St. Ambrose well observes) they who then were restored,
received not life but by a power not their own, and they who per-
formed those miracles performed them in persons not themselves.
The unheard-of miracle was, that the same man performed at one
and the same time, the two-fold miracle of giving life, and raising
himself from the dead : " From the beginning of the world, it hath
not been heard." John ix. And this is the miracle which the
heavenly Father reserved for his Son, to let the world see that he
was at one and the same time, God and man ; man, inasmuch as
he was raised from death to life ; and God, inasmuch as he raised
himself from death to life. An adorable mystery, which St. Jerom,
who was gifted with a particular penetration to understand and
explain the scriptures, observes, in these words of the psalmist,
which even, according to the letter, are so applicable to Jesus
Christ, that they cannot be applied to anything else: "lam
counted with them that go down into the pit ; I am as a man that
hath no strength, free among the dead." Ps. lxxxvii. That is,
Christians, Jesus Christ entered into the regions of death, not as a
subject, but as a sovereign ; not as depending on its laws, but as
jenjoying a perfect liberty, " Free among the dead." So that to
jreturn from it by the way of resurrection, he wanted nothing but
himself: no prophet to pray for him, to command him to rise, to
draw him by violence out of the sepulchre ; because, being God,
he needed no aid but that of his own omnipotent virtue : "I am
as a man that hath no strength, free among the dead." Words,

5G ON THE RESURRECTION OF OUR LORD.

(says St. Jerom,) which the Holy Ghost seems to have dictated as
an epitaph for Jesus Christ about rising from the dead.

3rdly. It is therefore, true, that the resurrection of this God-man
was the most authentic proof he could give of his divinity ; and
therefore it was, that the whole synagogue conspired against him,
and used their utmost endeavours to hinder the belief of this resur-
rection from progressing in the world. All the Jews were per-
suaded, that if it were once believed upon good grounds, that Jesus
Christ was risen again, from that moment he would possess the
glorious qualities of Messiah and Son of God. But what came to
pass ? By a wonderful dispensation of the divine Providence ; of
all the articles of our religion, or rather, of all the miracles on
which our religion is founded, there is not one of which the reality
is so undeniable, or of which the evidence is so incontestable ; inso-
much that, according to St. Augustin, if even a pagan and an
infidel should examine and scrutinize, without prepossession, all the
circumstances of this miracle, he would be forced toa admit and
acknowledge the truth of it. And what is still more surprising,
continues this holy doctor, is, that the~two things which naturally
should have been obstacles to the belief of this resurrection; namely,
the hatred of the Pharisees, and the then incredulity of the apos-
tles, are the means the Almighty makes use of to support and
corroborate it. Yes, the most inveterate enemies of Jesus Christ
have, in spite of them, contributed by their veiy hatred, to verify
the miracle of the resurrection, and, by consequence, to plant our
faith. For take notice, Christians ; scarce is the breath out of the
body of Jesus Christ, but they make application to Pilate ; and
what for ? We remember, (say they,) that this seducer said, while
he was living, I will rise again the third day after my death. For
this he pledged himself to the public ; and he desired that this
might be the test, whereby it should appear, whether or not he
were true and faithful to his words. The people were anxious about
the event of this prediction ; and if his body should now disappear,
nothing more would be requisite to confirm so pernicious an error :
it is of the utmost importance, therefore, to conduct this affair with
the greatest diligence and circumspection ; and our business with
you is, that you would give a sanction and weight to what we do
in this respect. Go, (answers Pilate,) you have guards at hand, use
your own discretion ; I empower you to do as you think proper.
Accordingly, the sepulchre is instantly surrounded by a band of

ON THE RESURRECTION OF OUR LORD, 5?

Soldiers ; the stone which closed the entrance of it is sealed ; nothing
is omitted to make it all secure. What is the result of all this fore-
cast ? Only to remove the smallest doubt, and slightest suspicion
respecting the resurrection of Jesus Christ. For what could the
Pharisees say, when, notwithstanding such precautions and such
assiduity, the body of our Saviour, three days after it was entombed,
could not be found ? That his disciples in the night, and while
the guard were asleep, carried it away ? But (replies St. Augustin)
how was it possible to come to the sepulchre, lift up the stone, and
carry off the body, without waking one of the soldiers ? Besides,
if the guard were asleep, how did they know that it was carried
off; and who were they that carried it off? And if the guard were
not asleep, how comes it that they suffered it to be carried off?
What likelihood that the disciples, so remarkably weak, and such
noted cowards, should all at once be inspired with courage, and
become so resolute as to endanger their persons, spurn at the
soldiery, and bear away a body deposited under the seal of govern-
ment ? Moreover, admitting that they had the spirit to do all
this, to what purpose should they make others believe a thing, of
which they knew themselves the falsity ? What advantage could
they derive from it, or expect to gain by it ? For if they had
carried away the body, it was very evident that Jesus Christ was
not risen, and that he had deceived them ; and as they had exposed
themselves to the hatred of the whole nation upon his account, it
was very natural, that being thus imposed upon, far from still
supporting his interest, they would give him up, and declare to
the magistracy that he was an impostor. A testimony which the
whole synagogue would have received with general applause, and
which would have gained them the affection and esteem of the
people at large ; whereas, by publishing his resurrection, they
had nothing to look for but the most rigorous torments, persecu-
tions, dungeons, scorpion-whips, and death itself.

4thly. This, however, is the only subterfuge the Jews have, to
elude the miracle of Christ's resurrection : his disciples have taken
away his body. It is not the gospel alone that informs us of this
particular, but Justin Martyr, than whom, as he had been of the
Jewish religion, no one could ever have a greater knowledge of
their traditions. They have propagated a story, (says he,) that
the sepulchre had been broke open. But the lie was so evident,
that the resurrection of our Saviour was taken for granted among

E

58 ON THE RESURRECTION OF OUR LORD..

the people. Josephus himself admits the fact, however inclined
he might be to spread a cloud over the glory of the Son of God,
And to the end that Paganism, as well as Judaism, should render
homage to this God risen from the dead ; Pontius Pilate, as it is
recorded by Tertullian, being informed of the truth, and already
a Christian in conscience, wrote to Tiberius, a circumstantial
account of the matter. But what particularly surprises me, and
what we cannot sufficiently admire, is, to see the apostles, who,
during the life-time of their Master, could not so much as com-
prehend what he said, respecting his resurrection; and who
rejected, after his death, as fables and reveries, whatever was told
them of his apparitions ; to see, I say, men ill-disposed to believe,
or rather determined not to believe, become the preachers and
martyrs of a mystery, which had been, till then, the most usual
subject of their incredulity, appear before the judges of the earthy
and confess a resurrection which, till then, they had considered as
a matter of scandal ; dare spill their blood to confirm the truth of it,
and think themselves happy, provided that by dying, they should
serve Jesus Christ, glorious and triumphant, as faithful witnesses.
What wrought this change in them ? What had the power of
working it in them, but the assurance and belief of his resurrection ?
Is it not clear and evident, that so firm a belief, after so obstinate
an incredulity, was "a change by the right hand of the Most
High ?" Ps. lxxvi. Accordingly, it is in virtue of this belief, I
say — a belief of so miraculous a resurrection, that the gospel hath
made such inconceivable progress in the world ; and that the
divinity of our Saviour, in spite of hell, and all its powers, hath
been believed, and adored in the most remote corners of the earth ?
We need no more than consider the origin and first rise of the
Christian religion. Never did the apostles preach Jesus Christ in
the synagogue, but they produced Ins resurrection as a plain and
undeniable proof: "Him God raised up the thud day," (Actsxx.)
and glorified, by delivering him from the shades of death. You
sacrificed him ; but he since hath appeared in the state of a new
life. One would imagine it was the only article that rendered
their preaching efficacious and invincible. For in what did they
discover the force of that apostolical zeal with which they were
replenished? In bearing witness to the resurrection of Jesus
Christ. "With great power the apostles bore witness to the
resurrection of our Lord Jesus Christ." Acts xx. In tin ! consisted

ON THE RESURRECTION OF OUR LORD. 59

the whole care and fruit of their ministry : insomuch, that when it
was necessary they should proceed to the choosing of another
disciple in the room of the perfidious Judas, the principal reason
they alleged for it was, that having seen the things they had
seen, and bearing the relation they did to the Saviour of mankind :
" One must be ordained to bear witness with them of his resur-
rection." Acts xx. As if their apostleship had been reduced to
this one point ; and, indeed, (as St. Luke adds,) the whole world
submitted to the cogency of this evidence. The Jews could not
resist it ; the Gentiles were persuaded of it ; the number of the
Christians increased every day ; and we leam from St. Chrysostom,
that presently after the profession of faith which the catechumens
made, by acknowledging that Jesus Christ was risen from the
dead, the sacrament of baptism was conferred on them. The
reason is : that to profess the resurrection of Jesus Christ, was to
profess that he was God ; and to profess that he was God, was to
profess his religion ; inasmuch as it is indubitable, that the whole
Christian religion is founded in the divinity of Jesus Christ ; and
that the divinity of Jesus Christ was not authentically revealed to
us, but by the miracle of his resurrection.

Here let us stop : and to correspond with the will of God in
this mystery, let us raise ourselves up, by sentiments of faith, above
our own meanness. Let us, if I may venture to express myself,,
go into the sanctuary of Christ's divinity, which is open to us ;
and let us say, with the old man in the Revelation, prostrate
before the throne of the Lamb : " The Lamb that is killed is
worthy to receive power and divinity." Apoc v. In adoring his
divine essence, let us make the same protestation that St. Peter
did to our divine Saviour : " Thou art the Christ, the Son of the
living God." Matt. xvi. Or, to conceive it in terms the stronger,
and the more energetic, as they are more simple and more natural,
let us make use of the expression of St. Thomas Didymus : " My
Lord and my God ;" an expression which heretofore put the Arian
heresy to confusion, and which will remain to the end of ages,
unanswerable to the infidelity of libertines. Whereas St. Thomas,
and the other apostles, before the resurrection of the Son of God,
were content to accost him with Master, Lord ; now that he is
risen from the dead, let us look upon it as our bounden duty, to
call him, over and over again : " My Lord and my God." And
that you are my Lord and mv God, you let me see so very evi-

e2

MO ON THE RESURRECTION OF OUR LORI>,

dently in your resurrection, that I have almost reason to fear, lest
by that means my faith may lose some part of its merit* For I
perceive my soul pernetrated with the riving light that beams
from your sacred humanity ; the rays, as it were, of the divinity
which it includes. I did not thoroughly comprehend St. Paul's
meaning, when he tells the Hebrews, that the eternal Father,
" when he bringeth in the first-begotten into the world, he saith :
And let all the angels of God adore him." Heb- i. But now I
clearly see the reason of it ; and it is this : that Jesus Christ, by
rising from the dead, showed the whole universe that he was God y
and that adoration is the peculiar worship of God, and appro^
priated solely to God. Upon this account it was, that the eternal
Father would have this worship paid solemnly to Jesus Christ,
" by all the angels of God." To know the reason why he gives
this order to the angels, and not to men, St. Jerom, ex-
plaining this passage, tells us it will afford us instruction indeed,
but will put us to confusion. For he did not address himself to
the angels, but from the anticipated knowledge he had of the
ingratitude, obduracy, and insensibility of men ;> and because he
foresaw that men, far from adoring Jesus Christ in truth, would
outrage him, blaspheme him, and by the irregularity of their lives,
would load him with shame, dishonour and scandal. True it is,
that it was more the duty of men, than of the angels, to adore this
God rising from the sepulchre, as he did it for their, not the angels-'
salvation. But the strange irregularities of men ; the libertinism
of some, and hypocrisy of others ; the pride of many, and sordidness
of more, determined God the Father to have recourse to the
angels, as more faithful creatures, when he thought it proper to
procure for his only begotten Son the tribute of honour due to
him, in consequence of his resurrection : "When he bringeth in
the first-begotten into the world, he saith : And let all the angels o*
God adore him." As if he had said, let the angels be his adorers,
since men are impious, and scandalize him. For with this it is,
that each of us should, on this great day, reproach himself in tlio
bitterness of his soul ; a reproach sufficient to rouse us from the
lethargic indolence into which we are fallen, and give new fife to
our drooping faith ; a reproach which consequently would work
our conversion, and a total change in our morals.

And, indeed, this belief in the divinity of Jesus Christ, hatli
sanctified the world ; and is it not by this same belief, that the

ON THE RESURRECTION OF OUR LORD. 61

world, with which we are infatuated, and the maxims of which
corrupt us, must be sanctified in us ? If I have this belief, either
I am righteous, or I am in the way of being so. If I have it not,
there is nothing in me but sin and iniquity. " Who is it," says
the beloved disciple, " that overcometh the world, but he that
belie veth that Jesus is the Son of God ?" 1 John v. That is,
who is he, that, keeping a strait and watchful hand on the reins
of his passions, is regular in his conduct, moderate in his desires,
continent, patient, charitable, except it be he who suffers himself
to be ruled and governed by the faith of his saving God ? On the
other side, who is he that remains a constrained slave of the world,
and of its lusts, of its ambition, of its interest, of its sensuality,
unless it be he who hath given up this faith, or in whom this
faith is decayed and languid ? "Who is it that overcometh the
world, but he who belie veth that Jesus is the Son of God." Give
an attentive ear to the voice of experience, and it will inform you
with how great reason the apostle spoke. Human prudence fancied
she might subsist, independently of this faith ; and, therefore, hath
exerted her whole endeavours to emancipate herself from it. But
we know the success she met with, and the consequences of that
criminal independence. We have seen Christians become sceptics
and free-thinkers, and, relinquishing Jesus Christ, confine them-
selves to the belief of one God. But by a secret disposition of the
divine Providence, their philosophy hath only served to show the
weakness of their heads, and the wickedness of their hearts. It
should seem, that, from the knowledge of a God, they would
naturally become wise and virtuous. But as we cannot be solidly
virtuous or wise, except by divine graee, as grace is annexed to
Jesus Christ ; as Jesus' Christ is of no avail to us, independently of
faith ; as faith, which unites us with him, is that which reveals his
divinity : hence, with all those fine ideas of wisdom, they turned
out fools and madmen; they suffered themselves to be carried
away by the torrent of vice ; they yielded to the most shameful
passions ; they lost themselves (as St. Paul says) in their own
cogitations ; and, aspiring to the dignity of philosophers, sunk
even below the level of men. Where, on the contrary, have
purity of life, and innocence been found ? In that holy and divine
faith, which teaches that " Jesus is the Son of God." This is
what justifies us ; this is what lays the treasures of grace and
virtue open to us ; this is what gives us access to God, in order

62 ON THE RESURRECTION OF OUR LORD.

one day to take part in that blessed resurrection which is promised
tis. The resurrection of Jesus Christ is an incontestable proof of
Ms divinity : it is thereby he confirms our faith. The resurrection
of Jesus Christ is a certain pledge of our future resurrection : it
is thus he animates our hope, as you shall see in the second part.

Part II. St. Augustin tells us, that of all the articles in our
religion, not one hath been more controverted than the resurrection
of the flesh, because not one more effectually restrains men within
the bounds of duty, or makes them more subject to the divine law.
For, admitting once that we must rise again, it follows, that
therefore there is another life ; that therefore our hopes go beyond
the grave ; that therefore we have a lot to expect, good or bad, in
eternity. God Almighty, therefore, reserves us for other rewards
or punishments than those we behold. Our chief business, there-
fore, in this life, is, to labour all we can for obtaining one, and
avoiding the other ; we ought, therefore, to direct all our actions
to this end, and every thing else ought, therefore, to be indifferent
to us ; we are, therefore, to blame, for being disturbed at the
miseries and afflictions of this world, and for being deceived by
the dazzling splendor of human prosperities: virtue alone is,
therefore, upon earth, our greatest good, nay, our only good. For,
all these consequences are regularly deducible from the principle,
that the dead will rise again. It is for this reason that Tertullian
begins the work which he composed upon this subject with these
words : " The confidence of Christians is the resurrection of the
dead." On the contrary, (says St. Paul,) if we are not to rise
again, and oiu* hopes are confined to the happiness of this life, we
are the most wretched of mankind : for, whatever we do is of no
avail. In vain do we labour imder so many dangers ; in vain have
I undergone at Ephesus so many conflicts for the faith. There
needs no rule or measure to be attended to in our conduct ; and
full scope and indulgence may be allowed the senses in all they
desire. Filial duty and piety are imaginary virtues ; and nothing
should influence our conduct but the present advantage. Take
notice, Christians : from the error which denies the resurrection of
the flesh, the apostle drew all these conclusions, by a theological
ratiocination, the whole force of which there are but few who
thoroughly comprehend, but which St. Chrysostom hath clearly
shown, by pointing out to us against whom St. Paul's controversy
was directed. It was not (this father observes) against heretics,

ON THE RESURRECTION OF OUR LORD. 63

who acknowledged the immortality of the soul, but would not
admit the resurrection of the body ; that would have answered no
purpose : but his argument was wholly levelled at libertines and
atheists, who deny the resurrection of the body, because they do
not wish to believe the immortality of the soul, or of a future
state. For though these two errors are not necessarily and abso-
lutely connected with one another, they are joined inseparably in
the opinion of unbelievers, who, endeavouring to banish from their
minds every idea of whatever relates to eternity, in order to sin
with greater impunity, would, in the first place, abolish a belief in
the resurrection of the body ; and by an almost inevitable progress
of infidelity, become so strangely infatuated as to believe that souls
are not immortal. And this is the reason why the apostle uses
the same arms in discomfiting these two monsters of irreligion.

Be that as it may, I say, Christians, to keep within the verge
of my subject, that in the resurrection of Jesus Christ we have an
evident and certain pledge of our own resurrection ; for in the
resurrection of our Saviour, we find at once, the cause, the motive,
and the model, of our own. The cause, or power, by which God
can effect our resurrection ; the motive, through which he wills it ;
and the model upon which he effects it. This requires all your
reflection and consideration.

1st. In the first place, I affirm, that we find in the resurrection
of the Son of God, the cause of our own, for that miraculous
resurrection, so far as it regards our blessed Saviour, arises from a
supreme and uncircumscribed power. For if by his omnipotence
he could raise himself to life, why may he not do to others, what
he did in his own person. This is St. Augustin's argument, and
an unansAverable one it is. There are, (says this father,) who
believe in the resurrection of Jesus Christ, and who subscribe to
the testimony of the scriptures upon that head. But how faithful
soever they may be in this respect, they corrupt their belief, and
plunge into an error, by not comprehending, or by being unwilling
to comprehend, how it follows from thence, that we ourselves shall
one day revive. Now, (adds this father,) is not Jesus Christ's
resurrection, in a similar flesh to mine, and arisen by his own
power, an evident proof, that I shall one day, not indeed rise
myself as he did, but be brought to life by his power? If,
according to the false notions of the Manicheans, (continues St.
Augustin,) he had assumed, when he came down upon earth, an

64 ON THE RESURRECTION OF OUR LORD.

ideal and apparent body only ; if he had left in sepulchral cor-
ruption, the flesh which was formed in the womb of the Virgin
Mary, and which he was clothed with, in order to live among
mankind ; if, when he resumed a life of glory, he had resumed a
body of a different nature from mine, a body of a more refined
substance, and composed of more perfect qualities, I might
question, perhaps, my resurrection. But, to-day he rises from
the dead, with the same flesh and blood he had, when conceived
in the chaste womb of the Virgin Mary. And why should I
doubt that what I see come to pass in him, may not also come to
pass in me ? For hath he not as much power in me, as he hath in
himself, and for himself? And if the power be always the same,
will it not be at all times in a condition to work the same miracles.

It is by this supreme power, therefore, that he will go into the
depths of the sea, into the bowels of the earth, into the recesses of
caves and caverns, into the most gloomy and most hidden places
in the world, to gather together the remains of ourselves which
death had destroyed, and to collect our dispersed ashes ; and,
insensible as they will be, to give them voice, corporeal organi-
zation, and life.

This is perfectly conformable to that which St. Paul said
(addressing liimself to the primitive Christians) : Jesus Christ,
my brethren, (says he,) is risen again : that he is risen, is preached
to you, and you believe it. But what amazes me, (adds this great
apostle,) is, that notwithstanding this God-man is risen again,
there should be some among you who dare contest the resurrection
of men. " Now if Christ be preached that he arose again from
the dead, how do some among you say, that there is no resur-
rection of the dead." 1 Cor. xv. Is not one a consequence of the
other ? For is it not this arisen God, " who shall reform the body
of our lowliness ?" Phil. iii. But in what manner will he perform
this miracle ? Will it be only by the efficacy of his intercession ?
Will it be only by the virtue of his merits ? To these interro-
gatories St. Chrysostom answers in the negative ; and St. Paul
himself gives us to understand, that it will be by the absolute
dominion which God-made man hath over all nature : " According
to the operation whereby also he is able to subdue all things to
himself." Phil. in.

And this was the doctrine even of the patriarch Job, whom
God inspired, three thousand years before Jesus Christ, to speak

ON THE RESURRECTION OF OUR LORD. 65

of it with such precision and strength, and to foretel in terms so
clear the resurrection both of our Saviour and of us. " I believe,"
says he, encouraging himself to bear his sufferings with manly
fortitude, " I believe that my Redeemer liveth, and that in the
last day I shall rise from the earth." Job xix. Did you observe
the admirable connexion he makes between these two resurrections,
that of his Redeemer Christ and his own ? What would he have
said, had he lived in our days, and been, as we are, witness to the
glorious resurrection of the Son of God, in which we find not only
the cause, but moreover the motive of ours.

2ndly. For, is it not natural that there should be a union
between the subordinate members and the head ? And when the
head rises himself, doth it not follow that he will rise his members
too ? Now Christ Jesus is our head, and we are every one of us
his members. Well may I, therefore, apply to this mystery what
St. Leo said of the triumphant ascension of our Saviour into
heaven, that where the head goes, there the members should follow
him. And as Christ Jesus is not returned into the abode of his
glory for his own sake only, but also for ours, that is, in the view
of laying its gates open to us, and calling us thither ; have I not a
right, by the same rule, and in the same sense, to conclude, that it
was for us he broke down the barriers of death, came forth from
the sepulchre, and rose again to life ? And, indeed, if in quality
of head he requires, that his members do as he does, live as he
does, die as he does ? why should not he have them rise again
to life as he does ? Is it not agreeable to reason, that as we
participate in his labours, we should participate in his reward ?
and forasmuch as part of his reward is the glory of his body, in
that his adorable body is entered into a participation of merits
with his soul, hath he not thereby pledged himself to reward in us
likewise both body and soul ? This is St. Paul's excellent theo-
logy ; and, therefore, it is, that this great apostle calls " the first-
fruits of death, (1 Cor. xv.) the first-born among the dead." Col. i.
First-fruits suppose that others are coming after ; and in order to
be the first-born, or, if you like that better, the first risen from
among the dead, the dead must also be born again at the end of
ages, and resume a new life. And so incontestable is this truth,
according to the doctrine of St. Paul, that he tells us, without
hesitation: " If there be no resurrection of the dead, then Christ
is not risen again." 1 Cor. xv.

66 ON THE RESURRECTION OF OUR LORD.

3rdly. It is true, therefore, beloved Christians, that we shall
rise again through Jesus Christ, that is, through the omnipotence
of Jesus Christ ; it is true, that we shall rise again, because Jesus
Christ is risen again ; and, to crown our hope, I add, that we shall
rise like unto Jesus Christ, and that his resurrection is the model
of ours. For, (St. Augustin asks,) why would God make the
resurrection of his Son so clear and evident, and why did the only
begotten Son himself use such infallible methods to make it known,
and the knowledge of it spread abroad ? Ah ! (replies this holy
doctor,) it was to show us clearly and evidently, in his own person,
the just extent of our pretensions, what we ought to be, or what
at least it depends upon ourselves to be. All, therefore, I have
to do, is, to represent to myself whatever is most striking, great,
and admirable, in the triumph of my Saviour. I need no more
than contemplate his glorified humanity : his body, material as it
is, invested with all the qualities of spirit.-, emitting beams of living
light, and crowned with an everlasting splendor ; such is the happy
situation to which I shall myself be raised, and such is the conso-
latory promise which faith makes me. And this hope is founded
on the very words of God, whereas it is founded on the words
of his apostle. For (says the apostle) when God Almighty shall
draw our bodies from common dust, and vivify them with his
breath, it will be to conform them to the divine copy he proposes
to us in the resurrection of Jesus Christ, " who will reform the
body of our lowliness, made like to the body of his glory." Phil. hi.
These bodies arc at present subject to corruption and rottenness,
to sufferings, afflictions, pains and death ; a vile, despicable
lump of flesh. But then, by a change the most speedy and
wonderful, they will have, if I may venture so to speak, the
same incorruptibility, the same impassibility, the same immortality,
the same subtilty, the same brightness, as the body of a God,
" made like to the body of his glory." Nevertheless, my brethren,
all this is attended with a condition ; namely, that we shall labour
in the present life to sanctify them by mortification, and Christian
penitence. For if we have indulged these bodies, and afforded
them whatever a sensual appetite demanded, and thereby made
them bodies of sin, they will rise ; but how ? as objects of horror,
to the confusion and shame of the soul, to share in her torment,
after having participated in her crimes.

Ah ! Christians, these are great and eternal truths ; and wo be to

ON THE RESURRECTION OF OUR LORD. 67

those who do believe in them, but live as though they disbelieved
them ! But happy, thrice happy, the faithful Christian, who, not
content to believe them, makes them the rule of his life, and
draws powerful motives from them, to animate his fervour ! Let
us endeavour to discuss accurately and attentively so important
and so great a subject.

Wo, I say, to those who do not believe this essential point of
Christianity, and this future resurrection ! If there were any of
these libertines among my hearers, this is what I would tell them,
with all the sincerity, and with all the ardour of my zeal. Surely,
brother, you must lead a very disorderly life, and vice must have
deeply infected your heart, to make you disbelieve such funda-
mental truths of religion. Great, indeed, must be the corruption
of your heart, to blind, mislead, and pervert your understanding
to that degree. For, tell me, I pray you, if yet you are capable
of yielding to this kind of argument, which of us stands upon the
securest ground — you who disbelieve whatever is told you of a life
to come, and a resurrection of the dead ; or I, who believe it with
a steadfast faith, and entire submission ? What grounds have you
for not believing it, or even for doubting it ? Your own judgment,
your own wisdom, or rather presumption. You do not believe
these mysteries, because they are beyond your comprehension,
because you would measure all things by the senses, because you
will put your trust in nothing but your own eyes ; because you say,
like the incredulous apostle : " Except I shall see, I will not believe ;"
(John xx. ;) a conduct full of ignorance and error, and yet the foun-
dation of your infidelity. But I, in my belief, and in the faith
which I have embraced, (a faith for which I should be ready to spill
the last drop of my blood,) ground my reliance on the testimony
of God himself; on the principles of his divine Providence ; on the
concurrence and irrefragability of a thousand prophecies ; on a
number, almost infinite, of undoubted miracles ; on the authority
of the greatest men of the age, men of fine sense, clear conception,
irreproachable morals, and holy conversation. I find myself m
possession of a faith, which hath wrought so many miracles through-
out the universe ; which hath triumphed over so many kings and
people ; which hath destroyed and abolished so many superstitions ;
which hath produced and reduced to practice so many virtues;
which hath been confirmed by so many witnesses ; which hath been
signed with the blood of so many holy martyrs ; which hath

68 ON THE RESURRECTION OF OUR LORD.

increased, even by persecutions, and against which all the powers
of hell and of the world have not been able to prevail : for these rea-
sons it is that I am attached to it. Now 1 leave you to judge,
once more, whether these reasons, or yours, are founded on a more
solid basis ; and whether they are not more capable to determine,
fix, and give steadiness to an upright mind.

If it be objected, that this resurrection of the dead is incompre-
hensible, I say, beloved hearers, that the point is not to compre-
hend it, in order to believe it, but to believe it, although you do
not comprehend it. For whether you comprehend it or not,
it is not founded in truth, and certainly the less for that,
and consequently, not the less credible. Nevertheless, my dear
brother, I have great reason to be surprised, that you, who
plume yourself on the strength of your understanding, should
start so many difficulties against it. Would you insinuate that
tliis resurrection is not possible to God our Creator ? If he could
create (says St. Augustin) our bodies out of nothing, why may
he not, a second time, form them out of their own matter ? And
what can hinder him from re-producing that which existed in times
past, since he could draw corporeal substances out of a state of
non-existence ? Do you imagine that this resurrection was not
even an easy Avork for God, since he is all-powerful, and nothing
can resist an unlimited power ? Do not all creatures give a sample
of this resurrection ? A grain of corn dies in, the bosom of the
earth, (it is a comparison of St. Paul's,) and in effect, this little
grain must rot and die ; but do we not see it spring up again, and
re-exist? And is it not strange, that what divine Providence
intended to render most intelligible, should be the thing Avliich
makes you doubt your resurrection ? Is not this resurrection
agreeable to the principles of nature, which, by a% mutual inclina-
tion of body and soul, and the close connexion which subsists
between them, requires they should be re-united to all eternity ?
Hath it not been at all times one of the most universal and pre-
vailing opinions throughout the world ? Even they, (says Tertul-
lian,) who will not admit the resurrection, acknowledge it, whether
they will or not, by their ceremonies for the dead. The care they
take to preserve the tombs, and to preserve the ashes in them, is
a testimony the more divine, as it is more natural. The belief,
(he adds,) that we shall all be one day brought to life, is not con-
fined to Jews and Christians ; we find it among the most barbarous

ON THE RESURRECTION OF OUR LORD. 69

people, among pagans and idolaters. Nor is it merely a vulgar
opinion, the wise and learned are agreed in it. Moreover, God
hath made the belief of resurrection easy to us, by resurrections
which have been seen, declared, and attested by the most irre-
proachable witnesses ; resurrections not to be questioned, without
spurning the inspired writings, and historians the most authentic.

Alas ! Christians, let us see where the evil springs, and there
you may learn to know yourselves. You find it difficult to persuade
yourselves that there is another life, a resurrection, a judgment at
the end of the world ; because thereby you would be obliged to
reform your conduct, and you dread the consequences of it. But
are the consequences of your libertinism less to be feared, or less
dreadful ? God, independently of your will, created you without
you ; and without you, and in spite of you, he will rise you to life.
Your resurrection will not depend upon your belief; but the hap-
piness or the misery of your resurrection will depend upon your
belief, and upon your former life. Now what a surprise and de-
spair will seize you, at that last day, if you rise again, to hear the
melancholy, solemn decree of your reprobation ; if you rise again
to go forth from the shades of death, into the dark abyss of hell ;
if you rise again to consummate, by the re-union of your soul and
body, your damnation, because, in a matter of such importance,
you would not follow the wisest and most secure rule, which is, to
believe and live righteously !

I say, to live righteously ; and this is the misfortune not only
of libertines who believe not, but of sinners who do believe, and
live as though they believe not. And, indeed, what will it avail
us to believe, if we lead not a life conformable to our faith ? What
do I say ? if our life is in opposition to our faith ? To believe a
resurrection that will bring us before the supreme Judge of the
living and the dead, and take no pains to gain the favour of this
dreadful Judge ? To believe a resurrection that will produce us
before the eyes of the whole Avorld, and will make us known, such
as we are, and live in sinful habits, in vicious practices, now hidden
and secret indeed, but which then, revealed and published to the
whole universe, will load us with shame, disgrace, and ignominy ?
To believe a resurrection that must open a way for us to another
life, either eternally happy, or eternally miserable, according to the
good we shall have done, or the evil we shall have committed, in
the present life, and do no good in the present life that may pro-

'70 ON THE RESURRECTION OF OUR LORD.

cure us a happy immortality, and commit all the evil that may
draw the most terrible condemnation upon us, and lead us to a
miserable eternity ? What will it avail us, I repeat it again, to
believe in this manner ? Or rather, is not to believe in this man-
ner, to be more culpable, and stand convicted by ourselves ? It is
you, ye women of the world, it behoves to consider seriously this
point of your religion, and to profit by it. Little concerned about
futurity, you think of nothing but the present. Totally neglectful
of your souls, your whole care is about your persons. Alas ! you
lose them by endeavouring to preserve them. This, you think
not of; but this you will think of too late, indeed, when at the
sound of the last trumpet, this body shall revive from its own ashes,
and you shall hear from the mouth of God himself these formidable
words : " As much as she hath been in delicacies, so much torment
give ye to her." Apoc. xviii. Although you have idolized it, and
used every art of decoration, death hath condemned it to be the
food of worms, and the fresh life I have given it, will make it the
food of flames, the sensation of which will be grievous and excru-
ciating, in proportion to its pleasures, and to the degree in which
you cherish it. " As much as she hath been in delicacies, so much
torment give ye to her."

To conclude, beloved hearers : happy the Christian who believes
and expects a glorious resurrection, because he puts himself, by the
practice of good works, in a condition to deserve it. This is what
animated the great St. Paul, what comforted the rising and perse-
cuted church, what, through a course of ages, upheld so many mar-
tyrs, so many solitaries, so many recluses and cloistered religious.
For, (said they,) we suffer hardships, we mortify our bodies, we deny
ourselves the pleasures which the world affords, but it is to good
purpose. And, forasmuch, as we are assured, that the soul
survives the body, and that at the close of time the body will be
reunited to the soul, that they may commence together an immortal
life, we have reason to rejoice in the thought, that then we shall
be paid by a sovereign felicity, for all we have quitted upon earth,
and all the sacrifices we have made to God. This should inspire
all those pious souls who hear me, with the same zeal and the same
ardour : I say more, this should sanctify every Christian here to
whom I address myself. Upon this ground they ought to form
their resolutions ; it is impossible they should form them upon a
better. If, during this solemnity, they have not performed their

ON THE COMING DOWN OF THE HOLY GHOST. 71

duty to God, this ought to induce them to do it sincerely, speedily,
and thoroughly. If they have complied with the precept of the
church, and by that means have returned into the way of God, and
the path of rectitude, this should be a motive to walk in it con-
stantly. For upon this constancy all depends ; and in order to rise
again in glory, we must, by a holy perseverance, die in grace. But
alas ! who shall persevere ? Permit me, Christians, in concluding,
to adhere particularly to this point. Who, I say, shall persevere ?
Where are those souls to be found faithful to their promises, and
unshaken in their resolutions ? None, but yourself, O God, can
know them, as none but yourself can know the latent springs and
workings of man's heart, or the revolutions of futurity, things
which are always present to you, but which are equally hidden from
us, and into which our weak sight i3 disqualified to penetrate.
Grant us this constancy and perseverance, so necessary to our eter-
nal welfare, and without which, we can hardly hope to enjoy the
fruit of our glorious Redeemer's resurrection.

SEEMON IV.

ON THE COMING DOWN OF THE HOLY GHOST.

" They were all filled with the Holy Ghost" Acts ii.

This, beloved hearers, is the great mystery which was first accom-
plished in the apostles, and which will be accomplished in us like-
wise, if we are, like them, disposed to receive the heavenly gift of
the Spirit of God. For, Jesus Christ, by his death, merited it for
us, as well as for the apostles, asked it of his Father for us, by
asking it for the apostles ; and the solemnity we celebrate, is not,
like the other festivals of the year, a simple commemoration, but
the very mystery of "the coming down of the Holy Ghost." A
subsisting mystery in the church of God ; a mystery that will sub-
sist as long as there are Christians in a condition to partake of it,
and who shall make it their business to renew it in their hearts.
Now, beloved Christians, it depends upon us to be in this category,
as it is not only true, but an article of faith, that by the sacraments
of the new laAV, we all of us receive the Holy Ghost every day ;

72 ON THE COMING DOWN OF THE HOLY GHOST,

and that, in virtue of our Saviour's promises, the same spirit that
descended visibly upon the disciples assembled at Jerusalem,
descends, still actually and verily upon us ; not indeed with the
same splendor and prodigies, but with the same effects of conver-
sion and sanctification, when he finds our soids duly prepared, and
we lay them open for his reception. It is, therefore, Christians,
of infinite importance for you and for me, to understand thoroughly
what the spirit is, which our Saviour hath promised us, and whose
ineffable mission must work in us the same effect it worked in the
apostles. For, wo be to us, if, by our remissness and infidelity,
we put an obstacle in his way ; and, (to use a remarkable expression
of St. Peter,) we contristate the Holy Ghost, and neglect to enter
into the dispositions in which we ought to be, in order to partici-
pate of his graces.

O thou divine Spirit, thou plentiful source of every excellent
grace, and every perfect gift, communicate a ray of that light to
me, with which the disciples of Jesus Christ, wrhen thou reposed
on them, were penetrated. Grant me one of those tongues of fire
which appeared on their heads, when internally enlightened, ani-
mated, and strengthened, they began to display the greatness of
thy law. Obliged, as I am, to expound to my audience the truths
of salvation, I stand in need of, and humbly implore thy blessed
assistance.

The world, in the wretched state to which, sin hath reduced it,
is not a capacity to receive the Holy Ghost. It is the most pal-
pable and dreadful sign which Jesus Christ hath given us of the
reprobation of the world ; and in pronouncing this curse against it,
lie gives no other reason for it, than that the world, in the height
of its infatuation, knows not the Holy Ghost : " The Spirit of
Truth, whom the world cannot receive, because it neither seeth him
nor knoweth him." John xiv. It is incumbent, therefore (con-
cludes St. Chrysostom) on the preachers of the gospel, to make
this spirit known to the world. And this is what I take upon me
to do, in the present discourse, being to set forth not only the most
sublime, but the most edifying and affecting mystery of our religion.
When St. Paul, on his arrival at Ephesus, asked the disciples whom
he found there, " whether they had received the Holy Ghost since
they believed ;" (Acts xix.) surprised and confounded at such a
question, they ingenuously confesssed, that " they had not so much
as heard whether there were any Holy Ghost." Acts. xix. How

ON THE COMING DOWN OF TlIE HOLY GHOST. 73

many Christians, or more properly, how many worldlings, to their
eternal shame, live at this day in the same ignorance, and perhaps,
in an ignorance still more criminal ? For, it is not sufficient, in
order to obtain the blessing of salvation, to know that the Holy
Ghost is the third person of the most adorable Trinity ; that he is
consubstantial with the Father and the Son ; that he proceeds
eternally from the one and the other : these are articles of belief,
which inform us what the Holy Ghost is in himself, and with re-
spect to himself. But further, beloved hearers, it is meet we should
know what he is in regard to us, what he should produce in us,
for what end he was sent to us, what we ought to do in order to
receive him, and by what means wre may judge whether we have
received him. Now, how many unhappy Christians are there,
who, busied only with the things of this life, were never at the
pains to learn all this ; and, more blameable than the disciples at
Ephesus, might at this day make this shameful avowal : " We
know not whether there be any Holy Ghost !" How should we
have received the Holy Ghost, since we do not so much as know
what the Holy Ghost is ? Be that as it may, beloved brethren,
here is the idea I would give of this matter ; an idea taken from
the mystery we are celebrating. This Spirit, of which the apostles
received the first-fruits and plenitude, was to them, and is propor-
tionably to us, a Spirit of Truth, a Spirit of Holiness, and a Spirit of
Fortitude. Mind these three particulars : —

1st. He is a Spirit of Truth, because by replenishing us with his
light, he teacheth us all truth.

2ndly. He is a Spirit of Holiness, because by uniting himself with
us, he destroys whatever he finds in us not only impure and
carnal, but imperfect and earthly, if opposed to holiness.

3rdly. He is a Spirit of Fortitude, because he enables us to do,
and undergo every thing, for God, by inspiring us with a
supernatural and heavenly virtue, and a courage superior to all
difficulties.

These qualities of the Holy Ghost are clearly represented to us
by that mysterious and miraculous fire, under the type of which
he was given to the apostles. For fire, which of all the elements
is the most noble, hath the virtue to enlighten, to purify, and to
warm. Now, these are exactly, so far as they regard us, the three
properties of the Spirit of God. As a Spirit of Truth, he enlightens
our understandings ; as a Spirit of Holiness, he purifies our souls ;

74 ON THE COMING DOWN OF THE HOLY GHOST.

and as a Spirit of Fortitude, he invigorates our hearts. As a Spirit
of Truth, he removes our errors ; as a Spirit of Holiness, he with-
draws and withholds us from criminal engagements ; and as a Spirit
of Fortitude, he enables us to get the better of our passions and
weaknesses. As a Spirit of Truth, he gives elevation to, and per-
fects our minds ; as as Spirit of Holiness, he makes a reformation in,
and changes our hearts ; as a Spirit of Fortitude, he awrakens, and
calls forth all our powers by the zeal he excites in us, when it is his
will that wre should act for the glory and interest of God. These
three effects of his holy presence, God discovers to us on this great
day, which effects I shall- make the subject of this discourse.

Part I. To teach truth, is a thing that may wTell accord with
man, because it is a thing not beyond his reach. But to teach all
truth, without exception, to teach it without distinction, to ever)r
kind of person, to be able to teach it all manner of ways, belongs
only to God, and is what every mind, save that of God, is utterly
incapable of. Accordingly, it is the characteristic the most essen-
tial and divine that Jesus Christ, in the gospel, attributes to the
Holy Ghost : " When he shall come, he will teach you all truth ;"
(John xvi. ;) and this same characteris tic it is, that seems to me to
have appeared most particularly on this solemn day, when this Spirit
of Truth descended upon the apostles, and all the disciples assem-
bled together. The arguments for it I am going to adduce, to
which I request you give attention.

St. Augustin, weighing these words, " all truth," says, it apper-
tains to God only to teach all truth, and bring us to the belief of
it. For there are truths which flesh and blood reveal not ; truths,
which startle human reason ; truths, from which our nature recoils ;
humiliating, inconvenient, mortifying truths ; but w^hich, for that
very reason, are salutary and necessary : in a wrord, truths, wdiich
man (to use a scripture phrase) is unable to bear, much more to
relish, or take delight in. If, therefore, it so happen, that he be
sincerely and efficaciously persuaded of it, it must be the effect of
a superior spirit operating in him, and that raises him above him-
self. Now there is no spirit but that of God endued with this
power. The spirit of man (says St. Chrysostom) teaches, and
makes appear to man, wThat -satisfies self-love, what natters vanity,
wrhat excites curiosity, what favours inclination ; all this is his pro-
vince. But whereas, that which combats our passions, and stands
m direct opposition to all the inclinations of man, cannot come from

ON THE COMING DOWN OV THE HOLY GHOST. 75

man, and is nevertheless truth, it must necessarily be the Spirit of
God that teaches it, and makes it appear to us.

In like manner, it is a sure sign of the Spirit of God, to teach
the truth to all sorts of persons. The reason is evident : for,
persons there are so ill-disposed, whether to comprehend the truth,
or submit to it, even when they comprehend it, that none but the
God of Truth can make them capable of it. And, indeed, should
the man of finest parts and clearest understanding upon earth,
undertake to instruct certain persons of slow comprehension and
mean capacities, notwithstanding all his knowledge and perspicuity,
they would know nothing. Let him use his best endeavours to
persuade certain self-sufficient men, notwithstanding all his proofs
and demonstrations, they will not believe him. But when the
Spirit of God exerts his power over them, neither the stubbornness
of these, nor the stupidity of those, is an obstacle to the omnipo-
tent impressions of truth. The reason is, that this Spirit, who is
supremely and eminently the Spirit of Truth, by communicating
his divine influence to us, surmounts and annihilates all these
obstacles. That is, one of the effects of his presence is, to correct
and amend all the faults of our mind ; and having himself made all
our minds, he knows how to give them wdiat cast he pleases.
Accordingly, though dull, he makes them ingenious and intelligent ;
and, though rebels to the truth, he induces them to pay submission
to it. Masters of another sort are desirous of teachable pupils,
who have in themselves dispositions to'hear the truth which is pro-
posed, and in which they are instructed. But the Spirit of God
hath no occasion for this choice. Disciples of what kind soever,
indocile, heavy, incredulous, perverse, prepossessed, may suit him,
(says St. Augustin,) because he hath the power to make them all
susceptible of instruction : "It is written in the prophets, They
shall be all taught of God." John vi.

To teach truth in a limited manner is the work of man : I mean,
to teach it by lessons and rules, and fix it in the mind to a certain
degree of persuasion and conviction. Thus it was that the Pagan
philosophers impressed gradually on the minds of their hearers the
natural truths they dictated to them, using long discourses and
many words. But to teach in an instant the most profound and
incomprehensible truths of religion ; to teach them so as not to cost
either labour or study ; to teach them, and work such conviction
in teaching them, that persons are determined to sacrifice their

f2

76 ON THE COMING DOWN OF THE HOLY GHOST-

lives and fortunes to them, is to teach them like a God, and in
such a manner as to vindicate perfectly the efficacy and operation
of the Spirit of God. Now this is that, beloved Christians, which
was fulfilled, to the letter, in the persons of the apostles, and one
of the greatest miracles that ever appeared under heaven; the
miracle which hath most of all contributed to the planting of our
holy faith, and of which, for that reason, we ought to preserve an
eternal remembrance.

For was it not a very astonishing prodigy, to see the apostles,
at the moment they received the divine Spirit, as replenished with
heavenly knowledge, and consummated in the science of the
kingdom of God, as they had till then been ignorant, and subject
to gross errors ? Was it not a change by the right hand of the
Most High, to see them in Jerusalem deliver truths, which they
had made profession not only to disbelieve, but to contradict?
While they had no Master but Christ our Lord, (O adorable and
impenetrable mystery !) you know it would seem as if he were not
himself sufficient to make them comprehend the doctrine he came
to settle upon earth. Whatever care and pains he had taken, for
three whole years, to give them a thorough comprehension of it,
every thing that regarded his divine personality was hidden from
them. They were disgusted with his humility, they were scan-
dalized at his cross, they entertained no hopes that he would fulfil his
promises. Instead of the redemption from sin which they ought
to have expected from him, they imagined to themselves a chi-
merical, that is, a temporal redemption, by the hopes of which
they were misguided, and went astray. And when this God-man
addressed a discourse to them on the necessity of sufferings, on
the advantages of poverty, on the happiness of persecutions, on so
great an obligation of forgiving injuries as to love their enemies,
the scripture tells us : " They understood nothing of these things,
and this saying was hidden from them." Luke xviii. The reason
is, that they had not received the Spirit of God, and that none
but the Spirit of God can teach all these truths. But the moment
they received the divine Spirit, these truths, which had hitherto
appeared so contradictory and incredible, are unfolded and laid
open before their eyes. They comprehendthe meaning of them,
they discover the principles of them, they see the consequences of
them. To deny one's self, and carry one's cross, is no longer in
their way of thinking a folly, whereas in it they place all their

ON THE COMING DOWN OF THE HOLY GHOST. 77

wisdom. To love one's enemies, and pardon injuries the most
atrocious, is no longer in their estimation a weakness, or meanness
of spirit, whereas thereby it is that they measure the greatness
and force of the Christian spirit. The riches of the earth are by
them, no longer accounted a good, whereas they deem it a beati-
tude to be poor and in want of all things. They no longer look
upon persecutions as an evil, whereas they are overjoyed to have
been worthy of it. I mention nothing but what we read in the
book of Acts ; and those are the holy and admirable lessons which
this divine Master gave the apostles, and to receive wliich he
rendered them capable, when he came down upon them. Now
when I say that the divine Spirit rendered them capable of all this,
I suppose I shall make you, beloved hearers, conclude with me,
that therefore he is a Spirit who teaches all truth. For, what
may he not teach and evince, who evinces the necessity of self-
denial, self-forgetfulness, and self-hatred ?

But what kind of men, think ye, were the apostles before the
Holy Ghost came to teach them these truths ? Ah ! Christians,
how wonderful is this ! men full of failings ; senseless men, according
to the reproach of Jesus Christ, "and slow of heart to believe ;"
(Luke xxiv. ;) carnal men, unwilling to judge of the things of
God but by the senses, " unless they should see ;" (John x. ;)
self-interested men, who would allow nothing but what was
conformable to their desires ; men, with whom our Saviour himself
could scarce have patience, and to whom he said with an indignant
emotion : " O faithless generation, how long shall I bear with
you?" Mark xiii. For thus it is that the gospel represents them,
and such was their disposition even after the resurrection of the
Son of God ; whereas Jesus Christ, at his departure from them,
and ascending into heaven, reproached them with their incredulity
and hardness of heart. Are these a sort of men, capable of
receiving instructive lessons in the school of the Holy Ghost, and
of being admitted into it? Yes, (says St. Chrysostom,) they are
a sort of men, of whom the Holy Ghost makes choice, in order to
make them his disciples. Were they better disposed, they would
not have been so much to his purpose ; were they more refined
and rational, he would not draw all the glory he means to draw
from their conversion. They must necessarily be men of this sort,
to show what he is, and what he can do. Jesus Christ reproaches
them, at his departure, with the deplorable situation in wliich he

78 ON THE COMING DOWN OF THE HOLY GHOST,

leaves them. This is the ground on which the Spirit of Truth
thought it proper to display his power. These incredulous men
he makes supporters of the faith, and these ignorant men he makes
teachers of all nations ; to the end there be no one upon the earth,
who may not set up for the exalted quality of being disciple to the
Holy Ghost, and of whom the Holy Ghost may not be the master.
For if he taught the apostles, whom will he not teach ?

You ask me to what degree he persuades them, so as to make
them resolve to die for the truth he teaches ; so as to make them
prepare for martyrdom, and inspire them with an ardent desire of
it ? for, it was to that end that these disciples received such a
plenitude of the Holy Spirit. Now, as to what regards persuasion,
they received it in the highest degree of plenitude. If Plato
(says St. Chrysostom) had had the presumption to require of his
followers this testimony of their belief in him, if he would have
had them maintain his doctrine to the effusion of their blood, far
from adhering to him, they would have despised him, and derided his
doctrine, because he persuaded them as a man, and because the per-
suasion which comes from a man falls infinitely short of that force and
efficacy. Make this inference, therefore, and reason in this manner :
When the Holy Ghost reveals to our Saviour's disciples the truths
of the gospel, he at the same time reveals to them, that a faith in
these truths will be an engagement for them of undergoing mar-
tyrdom, and that to believe and maintain such truths will subject
them to the necessity of being dealt with in a cruel manner,
oppressed grievously, and sacrificed like victims. Nethertheless,
he persuades them on this condition. A visible sign, and incon-
testable proof, that it is by the Spirit of God they are influenced.

Think not, however, beloved Christians, that this was never
but once accomplished, or that it was never accomplished but in
the persons of these first disciples. For, St. Luke assures us, in
express terms, that the miracle I speak of was renewed every day
in the infant church ; that the Holy Ghost descended upon the
faithful, sometimes while washed in the waters of regeneration,
sometimes while under the imposition of hands, and sometimes
while the word of salvation was explained : and that thereby, day
by day, " the multitude of believers in the Lord increased." Acts v.
Now that which came to pass in those times, and the 'signs of
which St. Luke mentions, comes to pass, notwithstanding the
perversity of the age, at this day likewise, although in a manner

ON THE COMING DOWN OF THE HOLY GHOST. < W

not so illustrious. This we have seen, ourselves, and admired,
more than once, when libertine worldlings, freethinkers, and
unbelievers, who lived among us, and under our eyes, have
renounced their impiety, have submitted to the yoke and laws of
religion, and have sincerely acknowledged and glorified God.
Thus it was that the world became Christian ; thus it was that the
darkness of infidelity was converted into the pure light of faith ;
and thus it was that the Spirit of God, according to the Spirit of
God himself, "filleth the whole earth." Wisd. v.

But what hath the spirit of darkness done, that enemy to God
and the works of God, and jealous of his glory ? In order to
counteract this miracle, he hath used his endeavours, and even
found means to pervert the universe by a spirit quite contrary to
the Spirit of Truth, that is, by the spirit of the world ; for, it $is
universally diffused, and hath disfigured the whole face of the
earth, which the Spirit of God had revived, and restored to its
genuine state. But this, Christians, I must place in a clearer
point of view : for, it is a vice of our age that cannot sufficiently be
deplored. The whole universe is now-a-days filled with the spirit
of the world ; and we may say, that the spirit of the world is the
ruling spirit which governs every thing. Undoubtedly, it is the
spirit of the world that is consulted in business, that reigns in
conversation, that makes alliances and societies, that regulates
customs. We judge according to the spirit of the world, we speak
according to the spirit of the world, we behave according to the
spirit of the world. Shall I say it? We would square the service
of God, and accommodate our religion, to the spirit of the world :
and because this spirit is a lying spirit, an erroneous spirit, a hypo-
critical spirit, by a necessary consequence, which is but too evident
even from experience, it foilQws from thence, that there is nothing
in the world but what is false : false pleasures, false honours, false
joys, false promises, false praises ; so much concerning external
advantanges: false virtues, false prudence, false liberality, false
justice, false generosity, false probity ; so much concerning the
endowments of the mind ; but what is infinitely more insufferable,
false conversions, false devotions, false humility, false penitence,
false zeal for God, false charity toward our neighbour ; so much
concerning the work of salvation. Hence it is, that men of the
world, filled with its spirit, seem to have no other care or study
but to deceive others, and themselves too ; to conceal what the

80 ON THE COMING DOWN OF THE HOLY GHOST.

are, and make show of what they are not. Hence it is, that
the world, according to the apostle's words, is a scene where all is
done in figure; where there is nothing solid, substantial, or
real ; where flattery is in credit ; where sincerity is odious ; where
passion, supported by fraud and artifice, speaks boldly and without
restraint ; where simple and modest truth is held captive, and lost
in silence. A most pernicious spirit, which, proportionably as it
gains dominion over the world, extinguishes the most shining
lights not only of Christianity and religion, but even of reason.

Nevertheless, I say it again, this spirit of the world is univer-
sally adopted, and gains ground on all sides. We are not satisfied
with having it ourselves, we communicate it to others, and use our
endeavours to make it more and more general. A father fills the
heads and hearts of his children with it, and gives them lessons
and rules concerning it ; he tinctures their childhood with this
spirit, he lays down rules of life for them from this spirit, he settles
them in the world according to this spirit, and he and they are
damned together by this spirit. It is not in the houses of the
great only that this spirit of the world exercises a supreme domi-
nion, but in subordinate stations, and among the vulgar, nay, in
the church and holy places among the clergy. For I see, (says
St. Bernard,) and to my heartfelt sorrow, that all the earnestness
and zeal of many of the ministers of the church, consists in prose-
cuting and making good their right ; in being self-sufficient, and
elated with their dignity ; in enjoying their revenues, and making
an ill use of them. Thus spoke he of his own time. Now it is
well known (adds he) that it is not the Spirit of God, but of the
world, which inspires this mercenary and ambitious zeal. Behold
then how the spirit of the world rules in the very sanctuary. You
will tell me, that even professed religious are not exempt from it ;
and that not unfrequently in the profession they make of renouncing
the world, they retain the spirit of it. I know it, and shudder
when I think of it seriously. But if it be a matter of dread for
me, how can it be for you a matter of security. And if this
unfortunate spirit of the world can blind and mislead a man se-
questered from the world, what have not those to fear, who are
exposed, by the necessity of their station, to all the temptations and
dangers of the world?

Be that as it may, beloved Christians, let us resume the subject,
and by the miracle which the Holy Ghost operated in the apostles,

ON THE COMING DOWN OF THE HOLY GHOST. 81

let us learn what wre are in the presence of God. To judge by
the effects, hath this Spirit of Truth, whose wronders and prodigies
1 have just recounted, been hitherto a Spirit of Truth for us ?
And if he hath not, to what shall we impute it, but to the hard-
ness and depravity of our own hearts ? Whatever profession we
may make of being, as Christians, the disciples of the Spirit of
Truth, are we really persuaded of the truths of Christianity ?
Hath he made us relish them ? Hath he given us a sincere and
efficacious disposition to put them in practice ? We adore these
divine truths in speculation ; but do we conform our conduct to
them ? We speak of them, perhaps, with eloquence and enthu-
siasm, but are our morals correspondent with our words ? We
give lessons to others upon that head ; but are we ourselves fully
convinced of them ? Do we believe with a steadfast and lively
faith, that, to be Christians, it is our duty not only to carry our
cross, but to place our glory in it ? That, to follow Jesus Christ,
we must internally renounce not only all things, but even our-
selves ? That to belong to him, not only we must not indulge
the flesh, but must crucify it ? That, to find grace before God,
we must not only forget injuries received, but to return good for
evil? Do we firmly, and without hesitation, believe all these
points of the evangelic doctrine ? And can we bear witness to
ourselves, that we believe them as fully and constantly in heart,
as we openly confess them in words ? The apostles, the moment
they received the Holy Ghost, wrere ready to lay down their lives
for the truth ; are we ready, I do not say to lay down our lives,
but to destroy our irregular desires and passions ? According to
this rule, is there room to believe, that the Spirit of Truth hath
undeceived us with respect to a thousand errors which occasion all
the misdeeds in the world ? That he hath disabused us of I know
not how many maxims which pervert us ? That he hath opened
our eyes upon certain articles which are so many sources of dam-
nation ? If he hath done nothing of all this, what proof have we
that we have received him ? And if we have not received him,
whom have we to blame for it but ourselves ?
S Perhaps to excuse the criminal infatuation in which we live,
we have the boldness to say, that we want the illuminations of the
heavenly Spirit, and by that means ascribe to him the iniquity of
our errors. But as Spirit of Truth, he hath taken care to remove
all grounds for this pretext, and convince us by the reproach

82 ON THE COMING DOWN OF THE HOLY GHOST.

he so often makes us in the inspired writings, that our errors arise
solely from our resistance to his divine lights ; for he lets us know,
that if we are uninformed, it is. because we are untractable, and
unwilling to hearken to him, and because, regardless of his inspira-
tions, we follow the guileful spirit of the world, wliich corrupts us,
and leads us into perdition : " Stiff-necked, and uncircumcised in
heart, ye always resist the Holy Ghost." Acts vii. Ah ! let us
not, beloved hearers, so far outrage the Spirit of grace, as to
endeavour to justify our conduct at the expense of grace itself.
Preserve us from so fatal an irregularity, O divine Spirit ! and, to
that intent, make us know the things you taught the apostles.
Grant that at last we may become truly your disciples ; and be to
us not only a Spirit of Truth, but a Spirit of Holiness : it is the
subject of the second part.

Part II. As God is absolutely and supremely holy, because he
is essentially and in himself holy ; so the Spirit of God, by a
personal property, is called in the scripture not only the holy,
but the sanctifying Spirit, that is, the source and origin of sanctity
in all persons to whom he imparts himself. It was not, therefore,
without reason, that the Saviour of the world, on the point of
ascending into heaven, and speaking of the Holy Ghost, whom he
was to send upon the earth, made use of a very mysterious expres-
sion, to all appearance, when he told his disciples, that in his
divine Spirit, they would receive a second baptism, and that at the
moment his promises should be fulfilled in them, (and they were
to be fulfilled in a few days,) they should be baptized in the Holy
Ghost: " Ye shall be baptized in the Holy Ghost not many days
hence." Acts i. For, the proper effect of baptism is, to purify
and sanctify ; and the Holy Ghost being come down particularly
to purify the hearts of men, how mysterious soever the expression
may appear, it was very natural, as our Saviour meant it. But
the point is at present to search thoroughly into the meaning of
it ; and whereas this baptism of the Holy Ghost was promised to
the faithful in general, it is your business and mine to scrutinize
and find out — its excellence on one hand, and the obligations
annexed to it on the other. Twto heads of instruction these, the
consequence of which I shall lay before you, and which I beseech
you to keep in remembrance.

1st. It is, therefore, true, that the coming down of the Holy
Ghost upon the apostles, was a kind of baptism, of which they all

ON THE COMING DOWN OF THE HOLY GHOST. 83

felt the salutary impression ; and this is what made Tertullian say,
that those blessed disciples were overflowed with the Spirit of
God. Emphatic words, but in the main literally coincident with
our Saviour's promise : " Ye shall be baptized in the Holy Ghost,"
whereas in the primitive ages of Christianity, they baptized by
immersion, which was a kind of overflowing. Now, what is it to
be baptized with the Holy Ghost, but to acquire, by receiving
him, a celestial and wholly divine purity ? I know, Christians,
that from their first call to the apostleship, the apostles had been
baptized by our blessed Saviour ; and I know that in virtue of this
first baptism, conferred on them, they were already spotless in the
presence of God, according to the testimony of Jesus Christ him-
self: " Ye are clean." John xix. But you know, moreover, that
this first baptism conferred on the apostles, had been the baptism
of water ; whereas the second, of which the Holy Ghost, by his
ineffable mission and immediate presence, was, in a manner quite
particular, the baptism of fire. A difference which the holy pre-
cursor had declared, when speaking to the Jews of the Messiah,
he told them : "Ye shall be baptized in the Holy Ghost and fire."
Matt. iii. A difference which was fully and clearly verified, when
the " Holy Ghost appeared to them in the form of cloven tongues,
as of fire, and sat upon each of them." Acts ii. To what end was
this symbolical fire ? To show, (according to St. Chysostom,)
that as fire hath a virtue infinitely more active, more penetrating,
and more purifying than water, so the hearts of men, by the coming
of the Holy Ghost, were to be purified in a manner much more
perfect than they had been by the first baptism of Jesus Christ.
The apostles in reality, after the baptism of Jesus Christ, though
sanctified and regenerated by this sacrament, were still subject to
great imperfections. According to the account we meet with in
the gospel, they were still ambitious, selfish, jealous ; there were
dissensions among them ; and they fell into weaknesses, from which
the grace, though sanctifying, of the baptism conferred on them
by the Son of God, had not quite preserved them. But no sooner
do they receive the divine Spirit, than they become entirely spiri-
tual men, disengaged from the world, and above every worldly
consideration ; men, not only holy, but of a consummate holiness ;
men totally absorbed in God and regardless of themselves ; in a
word, perfect and irreprehensible men. They are no longer (says
St. Chrysostom) that rude and unshapen gold, such as we see

84 ON THE COMING DOWN OF THE HOLY GHOST.

digged from the bowels of the earth, but pure, unaloyed gold,
tried in the crucible and by fire. Now the fire by which they
have been tried is (says St. Paul) our God himself : not an irritated
God, that pours down, as heretofore, the fire of his wrath upon
the heads of sinners, but the divine Spirit, that bestows with
profusion his gifts and graces, and reduces to nothing, by the fire
of his love, whatever he finds earthly and impure in his chosen
servants : " For, our Lord is a consuming fire." Heb. xii.

Would you know, Christians, to how great a degree of perfec-
tion and purity this baptism of fire went ? Be not scandalized at
what I am going to say, as it is one of the most constant verities
of faith. Perhaps you imagine that this baptism ended in the apostles,
by taking away from them certain attachments, either to the world
or to themselves. It is a great mistake : I have something still more
important to declare to you. This is it : the perfection of this
baptism arose to the purifying of their hearts from a certain kind
of attachment wliich they had had, and still preserved for our
blessed Saviour. Yes, this attachment, too human to the Saviour
of the world, was an obstacle in the apostles to the coming down
of the Holy Ghost ; and, if Jesus Christ had not, in order to break
this attachment, separated from them, the Holy Ghost would not
have been communicated to them : " If I go not away, the Com-
forter will not come unto you." John xvi. Where was the incon-
sistency of the one with the other ? And why could not the apostles
receive the Holy Ghost, while they were attached to their divine
Master ? Hearken to St. Augustin's answer, and draw yourselves
the consequences. Because the apostles, (says this holy doctor,)
in attaching themselves to Christ our Lord, did not, as they should
have done, look upon him with eyes sufficiently pure, and because
they considered him, in the love which they bore him, too much,
according to his humanity and the flesh. True it is, that his hu-
manity was holy, and his flesh consecrated by its hypostatical union
with the Word. But because the heaviness of their understandings
hindered them from sufficiently discerning this mystery, and
because, in attaching themselves to Christ our Lord, their ideas
of him rose no higher than as of a man, though a God-man, the
Spirit of God, whose holiness infinitely surpasses all our ideas of
it, could not, in this state of imperfection, honour them with his
presence. It was, therefore, necessary (continues St. Augustin)
that the apostles should lose sight of our blessed Saviour, in order

ON THE COMING DOWN OF THE HOLY GHOST. 85

to be replenished with the Holy Ghost ; and it was necessary that
the Holy Ghost should divest and banish from the hearts of the
apostles, the too natural, or human affection, they entertained for
their Lord and Master, for it should be a supernatural affection.
Such, I say, beloved hearers, was the excellence of the baptism of
fire in the apostles ; and from thence we should infer, what are its
obligations with regard to us : I mean, how for the Spirit of God
should be to us a spirit of purity and holiness.

And now it is surprising, that from the beginning of the world,
Almighty God protested by an oath, so solemn and so express, that,
"his Spirit should not abide in man, for that he was flesh." Gen.vi.
Is it surprising, that in the extreme horror he conceived of the
corruption of man, he should repent his having created him, should
deprive him of his Spirit, and should make him feel the effects of
his justice, by the universal deluge, which, as I may say, authen-
tically expiated the abominations of the flesh ? No, no, Christians,
there is nothing that surprises me in all this ; and, admitting the
principle I have just laid down, God, according to the ordinary
laws of his wisdom, could not do otherwise. What surprises me is,
that people flatter themselves they may, without losing the favour
of God, keep up in the world certain attachments, fatal attach-
ments, the inexhaustible source of all the misfortunes, all the mis-
deeds, all the extravagancies, all the excesses and passions of men.
People- entertain them, pretending that they are innocent ; and
being authorised, as they suppose, by the custom of the world,
they see nothing in them incompatible with the spirit of holiness.
For this, ye worldlings, is the judgment you give of them ; and
this, perhaps, is the most dangerous illusion you have to guard
against. But use what endeavours you will to deceive yourselves,
and to find excuses, this Spirit of God, whose penetration is infi-
nitely above all your artifices, either will never take up his abode
in you, or will destroy in you all those hellish attachments which
tie you to creatures, and which your self-love would fain justify.
If you were in good earnest, and fully determined (instead of
believing the spirit of the world, that spirit of seduction) to be
influenced and guided by the Spirit of holiness, a spirit of which
you ought, as Christians, to be the living temples, by the sight he
would afford you of yourselves, and the remorses he would stir up
in your hearts, he would make you comprehend the absolute impos-
sibility there is of reconciling him, who is purity and sanctity itself

86 ON THE COMING DOWN OF THE HOLY GHOST.

with these attachments ; especially those which diversity of sexes,
joined to the vivacity of age and constitution, have rendered at all
times so dangerous and so pernicious. As a Spirit of Holiness, he
would convince you, that these attachments neither are, nor can
be, innocent for you, since you find, in spite of you, that they soften
your hearts ; since you cannot deny that they make them susceptible
of stronger sensations ; since you have learned, by experience, that
they excite in them amorous passions; since you know they. with-
hold you from, and even disgust you with, your lawful occupations ;
since from the moment they become attachments, and attachments
of the heart, known for such, the world itself, however indulgent,
will not pardon them ; since they expose you to its censures, give
room for detraction, and serve for a subject of satirical merriment ;
since they are, at least, the most immediate cause of sin ; I say
more, since they are, for the most part, nothing but a disguise and
a refinement of sensuality.

This is what the Spirit of God would let you see and understand,
if you hearkened to him, and were more tractable in following his
secret impulse and operations. But whether you hearken to him or
not, independently of you, it is decreed in heaven, that God will
withdraw his Spirit from the man who lives after the flesh. Now
is it not true, that these attachments take their rise in the lusts of
the flesh ? I know you call them by honourable names, and, to
stifle the remorses they might occasion, would, without scruple,
make them pass in the world under the denomination of becoming
friendships. But the Spirit of Holiness, in the bottom of your
hearts, protests against this supposed decency, and lets you under-
stand that these friendships are condemned by God, which by an
imperceptible, but infallible progression/ lead from that which
is seemingly decent, to that which is actually impure and criminal.
How then, Christians ? The apostles could not receive the Holy
Ghost, while they retained for Christ Jesus an attachment too
human; and you suppose yourselves disposed to receive him,
though you suffer the most lively and ardent passions for mortal
creatures to take root in your hearts ; though you indulge such
tender sentiments for them, that by an immutable consequence
your hearts ever after are affected with aridities in respect to God ;
though you form, and keep up connexions with them, the privacy
of which woidd pervert an angel, had he senses capable of
being affected : though you tamper with them in business and

ON THE COMING DOWN OF THE HOLY GHOST. 87

intrigues, which, to your shame, make the chief occupation of
your lives. No, no, (ought to conclude the worthy Christian,)
no, divine Spirit, I confess that nothing of all this can subsist
with you ; and there would be even a monstrous contradiction
in the concurrence which I would form, or which I might
think myself capable of forming of these things, with purity of
manners, and still more so with purity of heart. Though all
this should not go so far as to destroy the influence of your
Spirit in me by a grevious offence, and though such an attachment
should not absolutely break the link of habitual grace, which unites
me writh you, yet the respect alone for your adorable person, oh,
Spirit of my God ! the idea alone which faith gives me of your
delicacy, concerning the infinite preference which is due to you,
and concerning the supreme and undivided love, which, as God,
you require ; the fear alone of exciting your anger, and provoking
your jealousy, (for you are a jealous God,) should induce me to bid
farewell to every created object. Though it were my eye, I ought
to pull it out, since it would be a cause of scandal for me, and an
obstacle to your graces, and to the participation of your favours.

2ndly. Now this, beloved hearers, is what I called, so far as it
relates to us, the obligations of the internal baptism of the Holy
Ghost. What then ought we to do, in order to fulfil these im-
portant obligations ? And to what should this mysterious baptism
be reduced in practice ? This is it : in order to correspond with
the designs of God, our whole and constant care should be, to cor-
rect and retrench whatever is human in our thoughts, in our desire*,
in our words, in our actions. For, (as St. Paul told the Philip-
pians, after they had received the Spirit of God,) neither our
actions, nor our words, nor our desires, nor our thoughts, should
have henceforward for end, or rule, or object, anything but what
is good, what is laudable, what is instructive, exemplary, and edi-
fying : " Whatever is chaste, whatever is holy, whatever is of
good report." Philip, iv. Our only and continual care must be,
" to mortify by the Spirit, the deeds of the flesh." Rom. viii. Now,
by the deeds of the flesh, the apostle understood not only those
execrable, beastly vices, those monsters of sin, which he forbid so
much as to be mentioned among us, but a hundred other things
which lead to them, and which, through the frailty of human
nature, are dispositions to them ; opportunities sought after, licen-
tious discourses, imprudent liberties, immodest looks, curiosity.

88 ON THE COMING DOWN OF THE HOLY GHOST*

reading, conversations, diversities unbecoming the Christian pro-
fession, too free a use of the bottle and dainties, a soft, sensual,
effeminate life. He understood, ye daughters of the age, those
worldly and affected airs, so contrary to modesty, and the decorum
peculiar to your sex ; those artful nudities, sometimes so shameful
and so scandalous ; that luxury, the parent of pride and haughti-
ness ; that display of vanity ; that idolizing of your persons ; that
immoderate desire of pleasing, and passing for agreeable, which
the corrupt spirit of the world makes light of, but which, doubtless,
the Holy Ghost, if you have received him on this festival, makes
you see the danger, and even the crime. To say nothing of
unchastity, by the works of the flesh, St. Paul understood, in
general, whatever is incompatible with the holiness of the Spirit
of God, especially charity : " The works of the flesh are manifest,
which are, hatred, variance, emulations, wrath, strife." Gal. v.
For if you have not, my brethren, (says he, and may I be allowed
to say the same thing after him ?) if you have not corrected all
these vices ; if you still entertain a rankling and bitterness against
your neighbour; if you are not sincerely reconciled with your
enemy ; if you do not stifle every vindictive inclination in your
hearts ; if friendship is not restored by a sincere and cordial charity,
(whatever opinion you may have of the matter, or of yourselves,)
" are ye not carnal ?" 1 Cor. hi. Now so long as you are carnal,
you cannot entertain a thought of receiving the Spirit of God.

I am mistaken, Christians ; you may entertain the thought, nay,
you ought to entertain it. For how great sinners soever you may
be, God Almighty hath made you a promise of him ; and his oath,
that his Spirit shall not be in man, so long as man shall be a slave
of the flesh, is no let or obstruction to the truth of that other ora-
cle, whereby he declares, that "he will pour out of his Spirit upon
all flesh." Acts ii. And this is a great consolation to weak and
imperfect souls. The Spirit of God will not abide in us, so long
as we are carnal ; but he will come upon us, that we may cease to
be carnal, and this is the miracle wre must beg of him. A greater
miracle than the creation of the world ; or rather, a miracle which,
in the order of grace, is a kind of creation more miraculous than
that of the world. But for this, O Lord, the omnipotence of your
holy grace is requisite. When you created the world, you exerted
your operation upon a nonentity, and this nonentity made no
resistance. Here you operate upon the nonentity of sin, which,

ON THE COMING DOWN OF THE HOLY GHOST, 89

nonentity as it is, rises in opposition to you, and makes head against
you. Send us, therefore, your Spirit in all force and plenitude,
and thereby, O Lord, create in us pure hearts, chaste hearts,
hearts submissive to your holy law : " Send forth thy Spirit,
and they shall be created, and thou shalt renew the face of the
earth." Ps. 1. What strength, my God, what zeal for your glory
will he not inspire ! It is what I shall enlarge upon in the third
and last part.

Part. III. To possess in himself the divine essence, without
being able to communicate it to any other divine person ; to be
produced by the Father and by the Son, without being the prin-
ciple of any other similar production ; in a word, to be steril, God
as he is, in the adorable Trinity, because he is the term of the
Trinity itself, is a characteristic that suits the Holy Ghost only,
and that distinguishes him essentially as Holy Ghost. A sterility,
(say the schoolmen,) which, far from being defective, denotes, and
supposes in him a plenitude of all divine perfections. But, as
faith shows us, that the Holy Ghost is steril in himself, and with
respect to the two other divine persons from which he proceeds ;
so it gives us to understand, that he is active, fruitful, and full of
efficacy and virtue, externally, and in the persons to whom he
imparts his heavenly gifts. For, according to the scripture, the
Holy Ghost is the immediate and substantial principle of the ope-
rations of grace. It is by the Holy Ghost, that we are cleansed
and regenerated in the sacrament of baptism : " Unless a man be
born again of water and the Holy Ghost." John iii. It is by the
Holy Ghost, that we are reconciled to God in the sacrament of
penance: "Receive ye the Holy Ghost; whose sins ye shall for-
give they are forgiven." John xx. It is by the Holy Ghost that
we pray, or rather, it is the Holy Ghost that prays in us : " For,
the Spirit himself maketh intercession for us with unutterable
groanings." Rom. viii. It is by the Holy Ghost that the gift of
charity is diffused in our hearts ; and as in quality of Holy Ghost, he
is himself the subsisting charity by which the Father and the Son
love one another by a mutual and eternal love ; so (say the
fathers) he is the radical charity in the bottom of our hearts, by
which we love God, and from which proceed all the holy desires
we form of God : " The charity of God is spread abroad in our
hearts by the Holy Ghost who is given us." Rom v. Now if
ever this property of the Spirit of God was plainly revealed to

G

90 ON THE COMING DOWN OF THE HOLY GHOST.

us, it is in the mystery we this day celebrate, in which we see
men, (I mean the apostles,) heretofore weak and timid, fired all
at once, by the virtue of this divine Spirit, with a fervent
zeal ; a zeal that made them instantly speak, and openly declare
themselves ; a zeal that determined them to undertake everything ;
a zeal that enabled them to undergo everything for the name and
glory of Jesus Christ. Three dispositions, which the Holy Ghost,
by his presence, operates in them, and which evidently show, that
he is supremely and evidently the Spirit of might, or to speak
more properly, might itself. I crave your attention a moment
longer, and I shall conclude.

1st. Scarce are the apostles "filled with the Holy Ghost, but
they begin to speak," (Acts ii.) and to declare themselves. This
is the first effect of their zeal. But for whom do they declare,
and to whom do they speak ? For Jesus Christ, whose ambassa-
dors, whose heralds, whose witnesses they look upon themselves to
be henceforward. Ashamed to have been, till that* time, afraid
to render him the testimony they owed him ; confounded not to
have had the courage to take his cause in hand, and support his
interests ; provoked at themselves for having dishonoured him by
a defection and a flight full of weakness, and resolved to repair the
scandal given, by the Tervour of their confession, and at the
expense of their lives, what do they do ? Animated with the
Spirit that hath newly come down on them, and given them
strength, they break forth from the room in which they lay con-
cealed ; they appear in public places, enter into the synagogues,
and show themselves openly in courts of justice ; and there, superior
to all worldly interests, they protest that this man, crucified, and
placed, through the injustice of Pilate, in the rank of criminals, is
the Messiah ; that this Jesus of Nazareth is the Lord's anointed,
and that God hath glorified him by prodigies that surpass all the
power of man ; that this Just One, delivered up to death, is the
Author of Life, and that he made it evidently appear by raising
himself from the dead ; that they are ocular and irreproachable
witnesses of it, and that they can no longer resist the force of the
divine Spirit, who hath made himself master of their hearts, and
who speaks by their mouths. Every endeavour to impose silence
on them was to no purpose. God commands us (replied they) to
publish what we have seen, and what Ave have heard ; and it is fit
vre should rather obey God than men. To no purpose are pains

ON THE COMING DOWN OF THE HOLY GHOST. \)\

taken to make them pass for madmen, and persons in drink. If
(says St. Peter) it is drunkenness to fulfil the oracles of the pro-
phets, think of us as you please ; but do you know what Joel hath
foretold ? That Almighty God, in these latter times, would shed
abroad his Spirit upon all flesh. Now this we verify by confessing
Jesus Christ ; and, far from blushing at this drunkenness, we place
our glory in it. Who express themselves, beloved Christians, in
this manner ? Is it men full of zeal ? No, (says St. Chrysostom,) it
is zeal itself; it is the heavenly Spirit that makes use of men, as
organs, to make known the Redeemer of men, to establish the faith
and divinity of Jesus Christ, to confirm his miracles, to authorise his
doctrine, to plant his church and the religion he brought into the
world. For, it is the Spirit (says the blessed Saviour) "that shall
glorify me." John xvi. And he tells his disciples : " It is not ye
that shall speak" for me ; your bare testimony, though true, would
not have sufficient weight : "It is the Spirit of your Father that
speaketh in you." Matt. x.

2ndly. The Holy Ghost not only makes the apostles speak as
becomes apostles, but by the greatest miracle that ever was
wrought, makes them undertake and execute things, so far above
human ability, that it cannot be denied but it is the finger of God
that acts. Hearken to this. These are poor fishermen, destitute
of talents, credit and reputation ; men looked upon as the
" off-scouring of the world;" but who, possessed by this Spirit,
propose to make a change in, and reform the world. What have
they in order to carry their design into execution ? What trea-
sures are they possessed of? By what counsel are they influenced ?
What arms have they on ? No other, O my God, than the virtue
of your Spirit, by which they surmount every obstacle. This
they do, beloved Christians, neither by the evidence of the myste-
ries they declare, as such mysteries are incomprehensible ; nor by
indulgence and abatement of rigour in the doctrine they preach,
as such doctrine wars against the senses ; nor by the charms and
artifices of a studied eloquence, in that their humble profession
had been their sole study. Nevertheless, all submits to them, or
rather yields to the law they promulgate, learned and unlearned,
the most refined people and the most barbarous nations, kings and
subjects, the great and the vulgar. This new law extends by
their ministry beyond the seas ; penetrates into places the most
inaccessible ; is established in provinces, in kingdoms, in empires ;

g2

92 ON THE COMING DOWN OF THE HOLY GHOST.

neither did ever the renowned conquerors, of whom profane history
boasts so much, whose heroic actions it hath so much extolled,
wrhose names it meant to immortalize by such magnificent enco-
miums, with all their power, preparatives, and armies, push their
conquests, I do not say farther, but even so far.

The apostles had many persecutions and contradictions to un-
dergo ; but by a most extraordinary exertion of the power of the
Holy Ghost, they are proof against all that. They despise torment
and death ; they hug their chains; they rejoice in their crosses;
their delight is to suffer and die for Christ Jesus. Here let us
stop : a detail of particulars were an endless undertaking. These,
beloved hearers, these are the excellent, the divine operations of
the Spirit of God, not only in the first disciples of our Saviour,
but in all righteous souls : and by these we shall learn, wThether
we be animated by this Spirit, and whether he hath given us the
fortitude with Avhich the apostles wrere all at once endued.

3rdly. For, to reduce all this to something practical, to believe
that we have received the Spirit of God, and not dare to declare
ourselves openly for God ; to be silent when we should speak ;
to be idle when we should act ; to fear running a risk, and exposing
our persons to danger, wThen we ought to sacrifice ourselves ; to
believe that we have received the Spirit of God, and do nothing
for God, be sluggish and listless in the service of God, and under-
take nothing for the glory of God ; to believe that we have received
the Spirit of God, and never take up a resolution to undergo any
thing for God ; to find whatever wre do for God hard and im-
possible ; to wish never to mortify ourselves for God, never to
conquer ourselves for God, never to controul ourselves for God,
would be a gross error. Let us not suffer, beloved Christians,
so great an infatuation to seize our minds. The Holy Ghost
is essentially fervour and love. Because love, (says St. Gre-
gory,) wherever it is, doth great things ; and if it doth nothng it
is not love. Let us practice, therefore, as much as becomes us,
whatever the apostles put in practice. If we have received the
gift of God and the Holy Ghost, like them, let us speak like
them, and act like them ; and let us, when Providence shall so
ordain it, be in a disposition to suffer like them. Like true
disciples of our Lord and Saviour, and filled with his Spirit, let us
openly and resolutely confess his name ; let us not be ashamed of
the gospel ; let us bear him testimonies, before mankind, worthy

ON THE COMING DOWN OF THE HOLY GHOST. 93

of our faith ; let us show the world what we are, on proper
occasions. Let us not, when the cause of God is in question,
show an unbecoming complaisance for men ; let us not give such
an advantage to impiety, as shall enable her to render us timid and
silent, but let us confound her by a holy, though modest, liberty.
We shall be charged with imprudence ; but the same charge,
and much more injurious, was laid to the apostles ; and yet the
fire of their zeal was not at all abated. Let us not think it
enough to speak ; let us labour for the cause of God with courage,
and let us take part in every thing that regards his worship, his
religion, his law, his church. According to our ability, and in
proportion to our talents, let us lay plans, and resolve on under-
takings ; let us not be disheartened at the greatness of the objects
we shall have to surmount. The Spirit of God will afford us
strength to overcome the world. Contradictions we must bear,
conflicts we must go through ; perhaps it may cost us some perse-
cutions : well, and all this will afford us, like the apostles, conso-
lation and merit. By what will it appear that we have received
the Holy Ghost, if not by the constancy with which we shall
undergo these kinds of trials ?

St. Luke informs us, " that while St. Peter spake, the Holy
Ghost fell on all those who heard the word." Acts x. I would,
beloved hearers, it were in my power to procure the same miracle
for you and for myself! Grant, O Lord, what I say be not a mere
wish. Give a blessing to my words, or rather to your own. Pour
down upon this whole congregation the fulness of your Spirit.
And you, O Spirit of my God, fountain of all graces, author of
all holiness, come, enlighten and strengthen us. Come, sanctify
this house, which is devoted to you, and which would not be
governed but by you, because any other spirit but you, would not
keep up the regularity, harmony, and perfect charity, which have
always maintained the peace of God in it.

94

SERMON V.
t

ON THE WORD OF GOD.

" He that is of God, heareth the words of God." John viii.

There is nothing more forcible, or more efficacious, than the
word of God. 1 mean not only the Word which is conceived in
God himself, and by which he internally speaks to himself, the
increated Word ; but that moreover which he externally produces,
and by wThich he reveals his will to his creatures, whether by
addressing them without intervention, or by employing, to that
purpose, men who are the organs and interpreters of it. This
word it is, which the inspired author of the Book of Wisdom
denominates " omnipotent." Wisd. viii. And, indeed, if we con-
sider the great things it hath done, whether in the order of nature
or of grace, we shall easily discover, that no characteristic is more
suitable to it, than that of omnipotence. This word it was,
according to the scripture, that by its supreme power, drew all
things out of nothing, fixed the pillars of heaven on a solid base,
and bestowed upon the earth its stability and fruitfulness. This
word it is, according to the tenor of St. Paul's expression, which
calls forth the things that, have no being, and that never had a
being, as though they existed ; which, by raising the dead, will
one day make the things that are now no more, sensible of its
virtue ; and which will make them take, as long as they subsist,
whatever movement it will please the great God their Creator
to give them. Insomuch, (says St. Augustin,) that there is not
one of them, which will not, by some extraordinary prodigy,
pay homage to this adorable Word.

Scarce had it fallen from the mouth of Joshua, but the sun
stopped its course. The waters were stilled, so soon as it was
uttered by the Jewish leader. As Elias used it, the heavens
opened and shut. The moment Christ spoke, the tempest was
calmed, and the billows ceased to roar. Such is the power of the
word of God in the order of nature. But this, I affirm, is nothing
in comparison with the wonders, it hath wrought in the order of

ON THE WORD OF GOD. 95

grace. For, it was this same word which converted the world,
which triumphed over idolatry, which subdued vice, and crushed
impiety, which brought to the ground the cedars of Lebanon, and
beat down the pride of the powers of the earth : " The voice of the
Lord breaketh the cedars." Ps. xxviii. Was it not this word,
which, preached by the twelve fishermen, was heard with admi-
ration all over the universe ? which, without art, or aid of human
eloquence, persuaded philosophers, embarrassed libertines, con-
vinced atheists ? In a word, which, by mere dint of truth, (to
adopt an expression of the apostle St. James,) begot thousands of
thousands of Christians to Jesus Christ? " Of his will hath he
begotten us by the word of truth." James i.

How comes it then, (St. Chrysostom asks,) that this word, in
itself so fruitful and divine, should be so feeble and ineffectual, as
it is in this day, in the Christian world ? How comes it, that the
sacred function of preaching, which, according to the natural
course of Providence, should produce good fruit, and in great
abundance, by a woful fatality, to our no small shame, is become,
it seems, one of the most unserviceable employments ? Nay, more,
how comes it, that the Word of the Lord, far from being salutary
in our regard, hath every day an effect diametrically opposite ; and
that instead of being the principal cause of our conversion, it
should, by a tremendous judgment of God, become the origin of
our condemnation ? This is the point which I purpose to discuss
in the present discourse. I mean to lay open the spring from
which flows so pernicious an evil, and by so doing, enable you to
apply the necessary remedies.

O thou, Holy Spirit, whose sacred word I undertake to vindi-
cate, illuminate my mind with a heavenly ray, by the light of which
I may penetrate into the hearts of my hearers, and deeply engrave
in them the sublime doctrines which this great subject engages me
to treat.

It is certain, Cliristians, that the word of God was never more
frequently preached in Christendom, than it is in our days ;
but it is equally true, that this good seed, which is sown in
the church, was never more steril, and that Christians never
drew from it less fruit. There are in these times no preachers
of the gospel, who might not put up their complaints to God,
and bespeak him with Isaias : " Lord, who hath believed our
report ?" Isaiah iiii, It is your word which we have preached ;

96 ON THE WORD OF GOD.

we have appeared as your ambassadors among mankind ; we have
been received, nay, received in an honourable manner ; but did
any of them believe us ? After having wasted our spirits in
endeavours to implant in their minds eternal truths, what was the
success ? Sometimes, indeed, we have been able to disturb men's
consciences, and to stir up in their hearts the fear of your judg-
ments. But what alteration have we seen in their morals ? And
by what have we been able to discern the effect of your holy word.

This, beloved hearers, struck the prophets of old, and strikes
me now with wonder and astonishment. I ask, whence arises,
and to what must be attributed, this fruitless labour of apostolical
men ? Is it to the word itself? To those who preach it ? To
the Christians who hear it ? For it must necessarily proceed
from one of these three. Now it would be the highest injustice to
arraign the word itself; for it is not, at this day, less powerful
than it was in the days of the apostles. To say that it was altered
in process of time, would be falling into the error of modern here-
tics. The church (says Cassiodorus) hath preserved all along,
and will to the end of ages preserve, the word of God as pure as
her faith. We preach the same gospel St. Peter preached, when
by one discourse he converted to the faith three thousand hearers ;
and when the Holy Ghost descended visibly on such of the faith-
ful who heard the word of God, (as St. Luke relates it,) it was
none other than that which we every day impart to you, and which
you hear in our churches. How then ! Is this inordination to be
ascribed to the preachers ? I own, Christians, that all dispense it
not with the same dispositions, nor with the same edification. I
own, with the apostle, that some among them have held it captive ;
that they still turn it to a mercenary purpose ; and that, by a
simoniaeal kind of traffic, they barter it for I know not what credit
and empty reputation in the world. I own that even some of
them have brought dishonour and scandal on the sacred ministry,
by the irregularity of their manners, not unlike the Pharisees, who
were strict in teaching, but wanting in practice : " They say, and
do not."

But, after all, it is neither to the merit, nor to the holiness of
those who expound it, that the efficacy of the word of God is
annexed. It operates by its own intrinsic virtue. And even this
advantage it hath over the sacraments, that it doth not depend
upon the intention of its ministers. If they profane it, they are

ON THE WORD OF GOD. 97

perverted ; and we may say that of it which St. Augustin said of
baptism conferred by schismatical hands : " It is hurtful to those
who give it ill, but profitable to those who receive it well. There-
fore, my brethren, if the word of God fructifies so little among
you, you cannot ascribe the fault but to yourselves. And to come
more close to the subject in hand, I find in most Christians three
usual obstacles to the receiving of benefit from the preaching of
the gospel ; namely, disgust of the word of God, abuse of the
word of God, and voluntary resistance to the word of God ; and
these three obstacles I propose to remove, or at least to encounter,
in this discourse : Disgust of the word of God, which is particu-
cularly observable in slothful souls : Abuse of the word of God,
which is commonly applicable to the vain and self-sufficient :
Resistance to the word of God, with which sinners are always
chargeable. Now, according to the order and division of these
obstacles, I advance the three following propositions, which include
a store of instruction and morality :

1st. I say, that Disgust of the word of God is one of the
greatest and most terrible punishments to be apprehended by a
Christian.

2ndly. I say, that Abuse of the word of God is one of the
most impious and fatal irregularities which can be committed by a
Christian.

3rdly. I say, that Resistance to the word of God is one of the
most immediate dispositions to obduracy and reprobation in a
Christian.

The first hear it, not because it disgusts them. The second hear
it, but not as the word of God, and in this they abuse it. The
last hear it, and hear it, too, as the word of God, but will not
practise it, and in this manner we say they resist it. Hence, with
Christ Jesus, I would infer by a quite contrary rule, that " Blessed
are they who hear the word of God, and keep it." Luke ii. To
be brief; disgust of the word of God, opposed to the beatitude of
those who hear it : " Blessed are they who hear." Abuse of the
word of God, opposed to the happiness of those who hear it as the
word of God : " Blessed are those who hear the word of God."
Resistance to the word of God, opposed to the merit and advan-
tage of those who hear it as the word of God, and practise it :
" Blessed are they who hear the word of God, and keep it."
This shall be the subject of the present discourse.

98 ON THE WORD OF OOD.

Part I. I have told you, Christians, and it is true to say, that
it was the word of God by which it pleased God to sanctify the
world. This was the means, this the instrument which God made
use of for the conversion of souls. Others he might have used ;
but in the ordinary, and even natural course of his wisdom, he
confined himself, in some sort, to this alone, And, indeed, the
apostle tells us, that " Faith cometh by hearing, and hearing by
the word of Christ." Rom. x. Now what the apostle then saith
of faith, with regard to infidels, I may of penance with regard to
sinners, and of perseverance with regard to the righteous : we are
not converted, we change not life, unless we are affected with
eternal truths, and these truths are the word of God. A word,
which, published, and legally announced by the true ministers of
the gospel, strikes our ears first, and forthwith penetrates to the
bottom of our hearts, and gives motion to every the most hidden
spring. A wrord (as St. Augustin judiciously remarks) which
puts us in a right disposition to receive, and serves as a fit vehicle
to convey, all the internal graces which God bestows upon us. A
word, which he obliges us to distribute as one of his most precious
gifts, and which, by a kind of concatenation, draws all those other
gifts along with it, to which the predestination of man is annexed.
Is not this the manner in which the Almighty hath always pro-
ceeded ? And shall we find, by consulting the oracles of scripture,
or rather the experience of all ages, that men have ever risen from
the darkness of sin to the light of grace, by any other way than by
the word which they had heard ? Whence I conclude, that one
of the greatest and most lamentable misfortunes, which a Christian
hath to dread ; or, in other words, that one of the most visible
punishments of God, which a Christian ought to guard against, is
the falling into a disgust of this holy word. For, what a misfor-
tune is it for a Christian to conceive a disgust of that which should
convert him, of that which should save him, of that which should
inspire him with a love of his duty, of that which should heal the
infirmities of his corrupt nature, of that which should reform his
erroneous practices, of that which should inspirit him in case he be
lukewarm, of that which should enlighten him in case he be blind,
of that which should support him in case he be living, of that
which should raise him in case he be dead ? And are not these
the effects of the word of God ?

This, beloved hearers, would be sufficient to make good my first
proposition. But as you expect that I should give you a more full

ON THE WORD OF GOD. 99

and perfect knowledge of it, lend all your attention to what I am
going to say. I examine not at present from what sources so great
and so pernicious errors may flow in the Christian world. Were
I disposed to enlarge upon that topic, I might easily show you,
that in some it proceeds from a secret pride, in others from liber-
tinism : in some from attachment to sensual pleasures, in others
from a lust of temporal gain. For (says St. Clirysostom) how is
it possible, that the word of God, which earnestly recommends
humility, austerity, and evangelical poverty, should coincide with
ambition, sensuality, and avarice ? How is it possible to relish
the thing which lays before us incessantly an obligation of hating
and shunning the world, while our heads and hearts are taken up
with a love of it ? Of this, I say, I might make you sensible, and by
this you would see, that a disgust of the word is of the same nature
with those very tilings, which, according to the fathers, are at once
both sin and the punishment of sin : that is, things, for which
God punisheth us, and by which he punisheth us. A reflection
thus, which at least would confound our want of faith, when on
this head we pretend to plead ignorance, and throw the fault on
God ; whereas all the principles, from which this disgust of the
word springs, so far as they concern us, are voluntary, and there-
fore are so many causes of condemnation. Without, however,
attempting to fathom them, suffice it to see their unhappy conse-
quences. Now both are equally motives of fear, as they are the
most rigorous and fatal chastisements which God inflicts, when the
sinner is doomed, even before he reaches the brink of eternity, to
undergo eternally the weight of his justice.

1st. Do you know, Christians, (this is deserving of all your
attention, and will discover to you, by a very plain and obvious
figure, an important point, relating to the predestination and
reprobation of man,) do you know by what means the anger of
the Almighty was kindled against the Israelites, and how that
obstinate and rebellious people began to perceive that they had
exasperated the Lord ? It was by the disgust, according to the
scripture, they conceived of the manna. It fell from heaven, and
was the food which Almighty God provided them in the wilder-
ness, and winch he took care, himself, to afford them, every day,
in proportion to their wants ; a nourishment, which preserved them
in perfect health ; insomuch, says the text, that " there was not
one feeble among their tribes ;" (Ps. civ. ;) a nourishment, which,

100 ON THE WORD OF GOD.

however plain and simple, had, nevertheless, the rarest and mosfc
exquisite qualities ; which was wonderfully adapted to all palates ;
and which, without preparation, had all the effects of the nicest
dainties. But what came to pass ? Scarce do they refuse sub-
mission to God, and oblige him thereby to withdraw himself from
them, but they take a disrelish to this food : though the same in
reality, it begins no longer to give the same delight ; they gather
it with aversion, and find it in use unsavoury and insipid. Aston-
ished at this change, what say they to each other ? " Our soul
loatheth this light bread." Numb. xxi. Prodigious! This heavenly
manna, heretofore so delicious, is now insupportable. The appetite
flags ; they loathe at it, and pant for grosser repasts ; and the
scripture adds, that at the same time the wrath of God came upon
them. Indeed, it should seem, that depravation of taste (as Origen
and St. Jerom ingeniously remark) was the first effect of the
Lord's vengeance. Now all this, the apostle tells us, was no more
than the shadow of that which in after times was to be fulfilled in
us. For, beloved hearers, this every day happens to, I know not,
how many Christians of the age ; and may heaven grant, that you
be not taught it by woful experience ! The word of God (accord-
ing to St. Augustin) is the true manna ; that is, the spiritual
nourishment which God hath prepared for us, and which, according
to the views of his Providence, should have on our souls the same
effect that the manna in the wilderness had on bodies. And,
indeed, when heretofore our lives were regular, and we took no step
but in the way of the Lord, this word supported us, comforted us,
and bore proportion to our wants and our taste. We heard it with
pleasure, and received it with eagerness ; we were sensible of its
secret and miraculous virtue. But now that our want of fidelity
and morals hath obliged Almighty God to turn against us, we
experience nothing of all that. This divine word affects no longer
our passions, or our reason. Nothing remains but a sad disgust,
which makes us cry out with the Jewish people : " Our soul
loatheth this light food." Hence we neglect it, we refuse to hear
it, we prefer to this duty the most trifling amusements. Hence,
if occasionally we are present at it, whether for the sake of decency
and form, or induced by example, we are no way advantaged by
it. The reason is, that to thrive by food, we must like it, and
relish it ; and that which may be said of corporeal nourishment,
may be said more properly of spiritual aliment.

ON THE WORD OF GOD. 101

Accordingly, God himself declares, that " He hath filled the
hungry soul with good things." Ps. cvi. So that proportionally
as we conceive a holy desire of this word within us, this word will
penetrate into the recesses of our heart, with that plenitude of
graces which immediately follows it : as, on the contrary, he
threatens to dismiss those disdainful souls, who know not the value
of so precious a gift, and to deprive them of all the advantages
annexed to it : " He hath filled the hungry soul with good things,
and the rich he hath sent away empty." Another text hath it :
" The disdainful he hath sent away empty."

2ndly. For this reason, innumerable worldlings hear, the word
of God with extreme indifference, carrying not one thought of
heaven away with them, or of what might incline them to seek
the kingdom of God and his righteousness. They are present at
sermons the most affecting, without being moved, oftentimes dis-
gusted with things which pierce the hearts of others, evidently show-
ing by their insensibility, that they are " the disdainful whom God
hath sent away empty."

But you will tell me : this disgust, for which you condemn us,
and with which you reproach us, is not a disgust, in strict pro-
priety, of the word of God, but of the word of God not well
delivered ; for wrere I to meet with judicious men, animated like
the prophets, with the Spirit of God, and capable to represent,
with force and dignity, the obligations of my state ; preachers,
such as St. Paul wished for, who to zeal of souls should join
knowledge and experience, and by enlightening the mind, should
move the heart, I should hear them with pleasure. Thus the
lukewarm and slothful Christian would vindicate his conduct, by
blaming divine Providence, and thus he pronounces judgment
against himself. For, supposing it true, beloved Christians, that
there were no evangelical men remaining, capable of giving emo-
tion to the heart, and instruction to the head, what more palpable
sign would you have of the wrath of God ? Would it not be to
fulfil his threat to the people ? I will take away from them the
preachers of my word ; and they who shall continue to bear that
name, and perform that office, shall be empty men, as sounding
brass, or a tinkling cymbal. Thus (says the Lord) wTill I work
their wo ; thus will I punish them. I will raise no prophets to
let them knoAV my will ; no one shall possess the divine gift of
touching their hearts : " They shall be without a teacher, and

102 ON THE WORD OF GOD,

without the law." Paral. xv. Would not, I say, the very thoughts
of this malediction afflict you sensibly ? and, seized with a salutary
fear of perdition, to whom but to yourselves could you impute
this melancholy dearth of preachers ?

But however the world be plunged in iniquity, we are not, as
yet, come to that pass. Thanks be to God, there are still in the
church, men of zeal and learning, successors and imitators of
St. John the baptist, who, like bright shining beacons, discover
the truth, and preach it holily, forcibly, and profitably. But
you would have them preach politely and agreeably, and no
more ; I say politely, according to your notions, and agreeably,
according to your taste and inclination ; and as those whom you
hear, how zealous soever they may otherwise be, are not en-
dowed with the gift of pleasing you, you think it a sufficient
handle to absent yourself. Now in this consists your spiritual
infirmity, and the punishment of God ; I mean, that there are
not preachers perfect enough to satisfy your taste and inclina-
tion, and correspond with your delicacy. It is thus that God
begins your reprobation. For, reprobation is as much fulfilled
in your regard, when there are no preachers whom you hear witli
satisfaction, as if there were absolutely none remaining to instruct,
you in your duty; and perchance it had been better for you,
that absolutely there were none, than that you should meet
with none who gain your attention and estimation.

A deplorable situation, and but too common among men of
the world, particularly those who attend the court. The word
of God palls, because no one is capable to give it that zest
which their palates require. If they reasoned right, they would
infer that God was exasperated against them ; that a principle
of religion still remained in them, either vitiated or neglected ;
that the refinement of taste, on which they plume themselves,
is (to hazard the expression) one of the most certain indications
of the evil temperature of their faith ; and therefore, that they
cannot, without the greatest care, ward off the destruction of
their souls. For God, how all-wise and good soever, will make
no providential laws for them, but those which he hath fixed.
Now he hath sanctified the world by the preaching of the gos-
pel ; neither is it credible that he will convert them by any
other means.

I am certain, however, that the treasure of his graces is not

ON THE WORD OF GOD. 103

exhausted ; and that he might, to save them, employ prodigies
and miracles instead of his word. But let them weigh the case
in the scale of equity, and they will find that to expect mira-
cles of God, and to reject his word, is criminal presumption.
What crowns their misfortune is, that they comprehend nothing
of this, are highly delighted with their mental blindness, and
entirely actuated by worldly considerations; as if the scarcity
of preachers (such as they would have them) only proved the
delicacy and justness of their taste ; as if Almighty God would
not show the absurdity of this false delicacy, and false justness
of their taste, by permitting them to serve as an obstacle to
an infinite number of graces, to which their eternal salvation
was annexed, and which depend on the docility of an humble
mind.

I do not say by what injustice, or rather by what unaccountable
means it happens, that the word of God, so holy and so venerable,
should cease to be suitable to the taste of the times, and espe-
cially at court. The mysteries of our religion, explained here-
tofore, and displayed to the people, were the admired topics of
pulpit eloquence. At present, as their faith grows remiss and
languid, they find these noble subjects insipid ; and they who
handle them being forced, in some sort, to condescend to the
wrong disposition of their hearers, either wave them entirely,
or but slightly touch upon them. Were the fathers of the
church to revive, and to preach before this very audience those
eloquent discourses which they delivered to the people, (and
which are still in our hands,) God Almighty knows whether
they would not be deserted. The praises of the saints, the
wonders which the Lord performed by his elect, were affecting
subjects heretofore for the faithful. Hence, the dispensers of
God's word drew certain shining and convictive examples, which
animated, encouraged, and served as models and as rules of life.
How would these examples be received at this day ? Nothing
will serve but a delicate doctrine, a studied doctrine, a doctrine
which shall lay open the heart of man, and shall stand as a
mirror, in which each one may contemplate, not his own vices,
but the follies of his neighbour. And who can tell but this
doctrine will meet in time the same destiny, and lose the only
ingredient that makes it now supportable ? What, in that case,
shall a preacher do to gain over souls? Or by what means

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106 ON THE WORD OF GOD.

St. Paul, with reason, condemns you of profanation, "being guilty
of the body and blood of the Lord ;" and by the same rule I hold
that you profane the word of God, when you cannot, according to
the spirit of your religion, distinguish between it and the word of
man. I shall not attempt to draw, in this place, a parallel between
these two irregularities, in order to make out their excess and
orievousness. A sacrilegious communion you detest and abhor ;
and far from weakening or diminishing in you so just a sentiment,
I would, were it possible, increase and strengthen it. But what
grieves me is, that for all this horror of an unworthy communion,
you have no horror of outraging God, by hearing (if I may be
allowed to use the expression) his word unworthily ; and I pray
the Almighty that the horror of the one, by a natural conse-
quence, may stir up in your heart a detestation of the other.
Tremble, would I say, when you eat the bread of angels with as
little faith, as you would eat earthly and material bread ; for such
proceeding is a crime which you can never sufficiently detest.
But yet would I add, tremble when you hear the word we preach
with as little devotion as if it were an academical discourse, not
making the distinction requisite between it, and that of man ; a
distinction which Almighty God himself makes, and wills you to
make. In the abuse of a sermon there is a kind of sacrilege,
which bears analogy to the abuse of communion. Brethren, (says
St. Auo-ustin,) the word which we hear, is as precious and sacred
in our regard, as the body of Christ Jesus. This he laid down
as an incontestible maxim; winch however rational, needed be
supported by his authority. He, therefore, (says he) is in some
shape as criminal, and as much exposed to St. Paul's anathema,
who abuses and profanes this holy word, as he who profanes
the body of our Saviour by suffering it to fall, and trampling
it under foot.

You must grant, however, beloved hearers, what every day
happens, but to which, perhaps, you have never adverted, and
which you have never made the motive, in the presence of
God, of your shame and sorrow. If people came to hear the
word of God as the wrord of God, would they come through
a spirit of curiosity to examine it, through a spirit of malignity
to censure and ridicule it, through a spirit of interest to pay
their court, through a spirit of vanity, to see and be seen ; shall
I say it, and will it not be offensive to you ? through a spirit of sen-

ON THii WORD OF GOD. 107

SUality to meet the destructive object of their passion, and satisfy
the desires of their carnal heart?

Alas ! Christians, ought we not to blush to be present at,
and hear it with these dispositions ? Ought not this thought,
it is the word of my God that I am going to hear, to be suffi-
cient to strike us with a salutary fright ? Taken up with this
thought, ought we not to resort to it with an humble mind,
a recollected soul, a heart affected and penetrated with lively
sentiments of religion, in the same manner that we should ap-
proach the most awful and august of sacraments, the sacrament
of the altar? For, this is the true and just idea wliich we
ought to entertain of the word of God. When, therefore, you
hear it with contrary views, it is manifestly plain, you no longer
regard it as the word of God, but as the word of man. Such
is the abuse I am endeavouring to reform ; an abuse which can
never be sufficiently deplored. For (says St. Chrysostom) God
speaking as God, would be heard as God ; and when he speaks
by the mouths of his preachers, who are his organs, he requires
that these organs be heard like himself: " He that heareth you,
heareth me; and he that despiseth you, despiseth me." Luke x.

But you, without tracing the matter higher, would hear them
as men, controul them as men, turn them into ridicule and discredit
them as men ; and what you would not do to a servant of the
crown, how mean soever, who should legally declare to you his
majesty's orders, and speak to you in his name, you do with
impunity, and without scruple, to the minister of your God.
And now can you wonder that I appeal to yourselves, and that I
impeach you at the bar of your own conscience, for having a
hundred and a hundred times profaned, and for still daily pro-
faning this holy deposit, with which we are entrusted on your
account, the ministry of God's word.

2ndly. From such profanation, by an infallible consequence,
follows the inutility of the divine ministry. For, the word of
God, received and heard as the word of man, can produce effects
proportioned only to the word of man ; and it is an article of faith,
that the word of man, however affecting, convincing, forcible and
powerful soever it may be, in other respects, is, of itself, but a
useless instrument in regard to salvation. This the apostle ex-
plained to the Thessalonians : "Therefore," says he, "we also
give thanks to God without ceasing ; because when ye had received

h 2

108 ON THE WORD OF GOD.

from us the word of the hearing of God, ye received it not as the
word of man, but (as it is in truth) the word of God, who worketh
in you." 1 Thess. ii. This is the source of all those blessings,
which the Lord has been pleased to shower down upon your
church ; this hath given lustre and renown to your faith, and hath
made it a model for all the churches of Greece and Asia. And
Theophilact observes, that it was, without doubt, the word of St.
Paul wThich so happily operated in the hearts of these proselytes,
but which operated in them as the word of God.

On the other hand, Christians, give me leave to lay before you
a striking instance of the word of God operating, though preached
by St. Paul himself, as the word of man. This great apostle makes
his way to Lycaonia, in order to promulgate the law of God. The
inhabitants give ear to, and are charmed with his words ; they
follow him in crowds, they worship him with frankincense, and
prepare to sacrifice to him as a divinity, not doubting that he was
Mercury and the god of eloquence : " They called Barnabas,
Jupiter; but Paul, Mercury, because he was chief speaker."
Acts iv. This it should seem, was a good disposition for receiving
the gospel. Ah ! Christians, let us rather say, it was an obstacle
to its progress. They heard St. Paul, but they heard him as
man ; else they w-ould not have thought of making him a god.
Therefore his words acted on their minds as the words of a man.
And, in reality, those eulogies and applauses are the ordinary
fruits of the wTords of men, possessed with the power of delivering
their thoughts with accuracy and elegance, perspicuity and pre-
cision, energy and gracefulness ; but more expect not. Oh ! the
unfathomable depth of God's wisdom ! Of this innumerable mul-
titude of admirers, not one infidel doth St. Paul convert ; and of
all these enraptured hearers of the word, there is not one who
renounces his errors to embrace the faith.

And, indeed, this is the case of numberless worldlings at this
day. They corrupt, or, to use a figure which the divine Spirit
hath used, they adulterate the word. Little concerned about the
fruit it produces, they seek only the pleasure, " adulterating the
word." What shall the most zealous preacher do ? Shall he
depict the horror and infamy of sin, the severity of God's judg-
ments, the consequences of death ? They will mind no more than
the justness of his plan, the energy of his expression, the arrange-
ment of his arguments, the beauty of his remarks. Shall he show

ON THE WORD OF GOD. 109

the importance oi* eternal salvation, and the vanity of the fleeting
things of this life ? They will agree that nothing can be said
more sublime, and that it is all noble, rational, and connected ;
but will draw no inference for their conduct in life. They will
admire, indeed, but will not be converted ; dishonouring (says St.
Augustin) the word of God, by the praises which they give it, or
which they rather take from it, to confer them on a man, who
only dispenses it.

In this manner the Jews acted, when the prophet Ezekiel
denounced the calamities, with which, as a righteous punishment
of their crimes, God would quickly afflict them. For the scripture
informs us, that they were pleased with his words, but not moved
by his threats ; and God himself points out the reason: " The
children of thy people still are talking of thee by the Avails and in
the doors of the houses." Ezek. xxxiii. Instead of glorifying my
word, they extol thee. They invite one another to " come
and hear it ;" and in fact they come, but hear it as though " Thou
wast a musical song, which is sung with a sweet and pleasant
sound." Ezek. xxxiii. But observe (says the Lord) that they
are satisfied with hearing the instructions you give, and that they
assume to themselves the unfortunate privilege of neglecting to
practise them: "They hear thy wTords, and do them not;"
(Ezek. xxxiii.) ; because they are thy words which they hear, and
not mine : " They hear thy words." Now your wrord may be
graceful, and may please the ear, but will never have the force to
convert the heart.

Accordingly (says St. Jerom) God's honour requires, that the
conversion of souls, the great work of his grace, should not be
attributed to the word of men, nor to his own, confounded with
that of men. You would hear this preacher, because he pleases
you ; but it is not from that which pleases you in him, but from
simplicity of faith, that Almighty God chooses your 'conver-
sion should arise. It were vain to hope that he would change
this order, and establish for you a particular law. But how will
he punish you ? By your own means. He will suffer the unavail-
ing word of man to fall to your share, as it is that which you seek ;
but his own he will reveal to the truly faithful, who receive it
with tractability and an humble mind ; or, in clearer terms, he
will leave you of this word what is specious and unprofitable, to
which you are attached ; but all that is solid and conducive to

110 ON THE WORD OF GOD.

salvation, he will keep in store for his chosen friends, who seek
nothing in his word but his very word.

Strange and pernicious abuse ! We resort to sermous with a
view to judge of preachers' talents, to compare their merits, to
decry some, to prefer others : and often may be seen in the same
town, in the same court, concerning the ministers of the gospel
doctrine, the same difference of sentiment and opinion, that was
seen heretofore at Corinth concerning the ministers of baptism :
"While one said, I indeed am of Paul, and another, I am of
Apollo." 1 Cor. i. Ah ! (cries St. Paul) beloved brethren, why
this contention, why this partiality ? "Is Christ divided ? Was
Paul then crucified for you ? Or were you baptized in the name
of Paul ?" 1 Cor. i. Have you not been sanctified by the same
God ? Doth not the same God instruct you by our mouths ?
" God exhorting by us." 2 Cor. v. Who are we, (said elsewhere,
St. Peter preaching to the Jews,) to deserve that you should employ
your thoughts about us, or show any distinguishing respect to our
persons ? Why should you regard us, since we only perforin the
office of ambassadors ? " Why wonder ye at this ? Or why look
ye upon us ?" Acts iii. Were I not endowed with this sacred
quality of ambassador from Christ, should I dare, this day, to
appear in this pulpit, in which I have already appeared so often,
before the greatest of monarchs, and so near him, too, and raise
my voice in the midst of the most splendid court in the world,
if, unworthy as I am, I were not convinced, and you were not
likewise fully convinced, that the Lord of heaven hath entrusted
me with his word, and that it is in his name I declare his will ?
" Why marvel ye at this ? Or why look ye upon us ?"

Yet though it be true, that all preachers, in consequence of their
mission, are ambassadors from God, and the organs of his wrill, may
we not make choice of one before another, and be more attached
to one than another ? Yes, Christians ; and a choice of that nature
may be good and profitable ; but then it should be made with a
view to salvation, and regulated according to the rules of prudence.
Thus Ananias the disciple w^as chosen, preferably to all others, to
be the teacher and master of him who was to be the teacher of all
nations. Thus God himself inspired St. Augustin, as yet a sinner,
with a desire of receiving instruction from St. Ambrose, and atten-
tively considering the rules he should dictate. Thus, beloved
bearers, perhaps God hath resolved to work your conversion by the

ON THE WORD OF GOD. Ill

ministry of some preacher, and hath furnished him with grace for
that purpose ; for, things of this kind happen every day, nor is any
thing more ordinary in the ways of Providence.

But if you desire to choose in such a manner, that the honour
due to God's word may be preserved, and you may reap, yourself,
advantage from it, I shall here lay down two important admoni-
tions, which you needs must observe. First, among the ministers
of God's holy word, prefer not one, so as to despise another. For
as they are all of them sent by God, you must honour them all ;
and perhaps your contempt would fall upon one appointed by
heaven to convert a whole people. Now Providence hath ordained,
that there be preachers for this people, as well as for you. Secondly,
in your choice, have nothing in view but your own perfection, and
spiritual advancement : that is, in fixing your choice on a preacher,
be influenced solely by the desire of salvation ; for, things must be
desired to their proper end. Now the word of God hath no other
end than our sanctification. When for bodily health I make choice
Gf a physician, I examine not whether he be orator, or philosopher ;
whether he converse like a well-bred man, or deliver his thoughts
with propriety and elegance : but I require that he have expe-
rience, and understand his business ; I require that he have skill
to find out the nature of my constitution, and can cure my disor-
der ; and this is enough. If, therefore, I meet with a minister of
the gospel, wdiose discourses edify me, who makes an impression
on me, wTho is gifted with the method of moving my heart, who
bears me efficaciously and strongly toward God, such discourses I
ought to hear with unwearied assiduity. This is the man whom
God hath deputed to make me know his will ; this is his ambassa-
dor from him to me. Though nature may have bestowed her qua-
lifications on him with a sparing hand, yet he moves me, and con-
verts me, and that is sufficient, By hearing his minister, I hear God
himself; and my happiness is, that by hearing in his minister God
himself, I draw down upon me the most powerful graces, and raise
a strong fence against that fatal hardness of heart and reprobation,
whither obstinate resistance to the word of God leads, as we now
shall see in the third and last part.

Part III. There are certain tilings, the use of which is pro-
fitable to us in such a manner, that without detriment they may
become unprofitable. But others there are, which, when unpro-
fitable, by a woful fatality become prejudicial. Of this nature are

112 ON THE WORD OF GOD.

aliments and medicines. Food turns to poison, it fail? to nourish ;
and physic is baneful that helps not to cure. Now, beloved Chris-
tians, the same may be said of the wTord of God. In the order of
grace, it is the source of Hfe ; but when it gives not life, by inevi-
table necessity, it causes death. Wonder not (says St. Bernard)
that God, in the scripture, professes it as nourishment and as a
sword. For, it is nourishment to those wrho find it wholesome ;
but to those who receive no benefit from it, it may with equal pro
priety be called a sword, of which the strokes are mortal. And
thus Almighty God (adds the same holy doctor) perfectly verifies
what he said by Ins prophet : "So shall my word be that goeth
out of my mouth, (a word, of which my preachers are the organs
only,) it shall not return imto me void, but shall (notwithstand-
ing the iniquity of men) accomplish what I please." Isaiah lv.

But in what sense are we to vmderstand, that the word of God
is always attended with the execution of the orders of God himself?
Is not the virtue of it perpetually impeded by our refractory spirit,
and Avant of docility? No matter; (replies the angelical St.
Thomas) for, God, in ordaining his word to be declared, hath
two different wills, of which one is substituted in such a manner to
the other, that if the first fail, the second of necessity must have
its effect. His meaning is this : God would have his word produce
grace and salvation ; and this is his first will : but in the supposition
that these effects are not produced, he will have it produce others,
which are justice and WTath ; and this is his second will. It is in my
power to hinder either the one or the other of these two wills from
being carried into execution ; but it depends not on me to stop
them both together, or to obstruct the accomplishment of the one
or the other. That is, I may make it, as I choose, a word of life or
of death, because I may, as I choose, hear it with a rebellious or
submissive mind. But to hinder it from having either one or other
of these two qualities, is beyond my power. And this is what
God tells us every day with great truth : "It shall not return
unto me void, but shall accomplish what I please''* But what are
the effects of that justice which is annexed, as often as we resist it,
io the word of God? They are clearly specified, beloved Chris-
tians, in the sacred page. The sinner's obduracy, and his con-
demnation at God's tribunal — effects, which stand in direct
opposition to the designs of God, in making us participate of his
snored word. For, the view of God, (continues this angelical

ON THE WORD OF GOD. 113

doctor,) was, that it should soften and bend our stony hearts ; but
unfortunately it hardens them by the resistance we make. The
view of God was, that it should work our justification ; but pro-
portionably as this resistance increases, it impeaches and condemns
us, in order, one day to confound us thoroughly before the supreme
Judge. Once more, let me crave your attention.

1st. Sometimes the Almighty, without prejudice to any of his
divine attributes, particularly his sanctity, hardens the hearts of
men. This himself declares : " I will harden his heart, the heart
of Pharaoh " Exod. iv. But the manner in which he who is
charity itself, contributes to this obduration, is a mystery I revere,
but shall not in this place attempt to examine. For me the doc-
trine of faith is sufficient : and the same faith which teaches me,
that the Lord " hath mercy on whom he will," lets me also know,
that he " hardeneth the heart of whom he will." Now I hold that
the worldling is precipitated by nothing into this woful state, more
effectually than by despising the word of God ; and of this I draw
the proof from the example of Pharaoh. Endeavour, dear Chris-
tians, to understand it thoroughly ; and acknowledge that what
visibly happened in the person of that reprobated prince, is in-
wardly renewed every day in those sinners whom St. Paul calls
vessels of wrath and damnation.

The Lord God replenishes Moses with his Spirit ; he puts his
word into his mouth, and tells him: " Thou shalt speak all that
I command thee, and Pharaoh shall not hearken to thee, but I
will harden his heart." Exod. iii. Correspodent with this direful
threat is the effect. The holy legislator faithfully executes the
mandate given him ; but as often as he speaks in the name of his
God, the sacred text adds, that "the heart of Pharaoh is har-
dened." It is the God of Israel (says Moses) who commands you
to set free his people, and deliver them from the bondage in
which you have detained them so unjustly and so long. But who
are you, (answers Pharaoh,) and who is that God, whose authority
you allege ? "Where are the proofs and tokens of your mission ?
You shall bear witness to them, (replies the envoy of heaven) ;
and smiting the ground with the mystical rod, which he held in
his hand, covered Egypt with darkness, and filled the whole land
with those other scourges, which the scripture depicts in such
frightful colours. Is it not surprising, that Pharaoh, notwith-
standing all these prodigies, should obstinately persist in his dis-

114 ON THE WORD OF GOD.

obedience ? No, Christians, it is not to be wondered at, because
it was thereby that God took vengeance for the horrid affront
put upon his word, and because so extravagant and outrageous a
resistance as that of Pharaoh's, ought not to be attended with a
less chastisement. Ah ! never punish us, O Lord, in that manner ;
and rather than give us up to so fatal an obduracy, pour down
upon us every other kind of vengeance. Send us, as you sent to
the obstinate Pharaoh, adversities, calamities, and humiliations.
If we be but actuated ever so little by the spirit of Christianity,
we shall bow down and submit to them without reluctance. But,
O my God, preserve us from that execrable hardness of heart,
which would make us insensible to the influence of your grace,
and to every tiling relating to our eternal welfare. Oh ! banish
far from us a heart of stone.

However, Christians, this is the case. By opposition to God, and
to his divine word, this heart of stone is gradually formed. Ask
me not (says St. Bernard) what a heart of stone is ? It is yours,
if you are not in agitation and terror ; for it must be a very hard
heart indeed, that is not filled with horror, as it hath no feeling of
its own condition. Accordingly, let a minister of the gospel
endeavour by every motive of intimidation, to prevail over and
rouse it, all is labour lost. Nothing affects it, neither promises,
nor menaces, nor rewards, nor chastisements.

2ndly. Wherefore, this word, which ought to be instrumental
towards the sinner's justification, is of no farther use than to for-
ward his condemnation. For, the more precious the talent which
was put into his hands, is, the more criminal he appears for not
having applied it to any good purpose ; the greater efficacy the
word of God had to move and convert him, the more culpable he
is for having destroyed its whole virtue. Upon this account it
was, that our Lord thundered out such terrible anathemas against
the hardened inhabitants of Bethsaida and Chorazin. And it
must (says Origen) have been a cursed soil, indeed, in which so
fruitful a seed as that of God's word could produce nothing. It
was for the same reason, that the Saviour of the world commanded
his apostles to leave towns and villages, where they should not be
hearkened to, and to shake the dust off their feet, at their depar-
ture, in order to convince the unbelieving people, that they were
rejected by Almighty God. In fine, it is in the same sense that
St. Augustin explains that important monition which is given us

ON THE WORD OF GOD. 115

by our Saviour : " Agree with thy adversary betimes, while thou
art in the way with him." Matt. v. This adversary (says the
forementioned father) is the word of God, which, by our resistance
to it, we raise up against us. It combats our vices, our habits,
and our passions. But let us endeavour, in consequence of our
blessed Lord's advice, to bring it over to our side. Let our morals
be strictly conformable to its maxims. Let us hear, love, and
practise its rules and documents, lest "perhaps the adversary
deliver us to the judge, and the judge to the officer." Matt. v.

Yes, Christians, this formidable adversary, this word of God,
will accuse you, will condemn you, will call out to God, and
demand solemn justice, for all the contempt, and all the abuse it
met with from you ; and God, who is always faithful to his word,
will do it to the full. Persons of two kinds will intervene at this
judgment, and will close with the word, in order to second it, to
wit, preachers and hearers : hearers, who honoured it, and were
sanctified by it ; and preachers, who delivered it, and whom God
replenished with his holy Spirit : the former represented by the
people of Nineve, the latter by the apostles. For, you know with
what readiness the Ninevites obeyed, when the prophet Jonas
preached penance to them : " The men of Nineve shall rise up in
judgment with this generation, and shall condemn it : because they
did penance at the preaching of Jonas." Matt. xii. Neither are
you ignorant, that the Saviour of the world promised his apostles,
and in them the faithful ministers of his word, that " they should
sit on twelve seats, judging the twelve tribes of Israel." Matt. xix.

Ah ! my Lord, shall I then be employed in this melancholy pro-
vince ? After having preached so often to this audience ? Shall
I be their accuser ? Shall I be their judge ? Shall I pronounce
reprobation against those I would save at the expense of my life ?
True it is, my God, it would be highest honour to be seated near
you at the bar of your justice ; but this high honour I should gain
at the expense of so many souls, for whom you spilt every drop of
your blood. Perhaps, too, in condemning them I should condemn
myself, being obliged, more than they, to practise those holy truths
I am preaching. Therefore I had rather have recourse, from this
moment, both for them and for myself, to the bar of your mercy.
I will earnestly supplicate you to shower down upon us the abun-
dance of your graces, that by the virtue thereof your word may be
to us a pledge of sanctincation and of life everlasting.

116

SEEMON VI.

ON FAITH.

" Jesus said to the centurion : Go thy way ; and as thou hast
believed, so be it done to thee." Matt. viii.

Is it not surprising, beloved Christians, that the Saviour of the
world, instead of attributing to his omnipotence itself, and to the
virtue of God, the miracles of his omnipotence, should in the
sacred page, for the most part attribute them to the faith of men ?
Powerful in works and in words, he cast out devils, cured diseases,
raised the dead to life. But although of all this he might well
have reserved to himself the glory, while others reaped the benefit,
he gives it wholly to faith ; as though faith alone had operated
through him that which he alone operated for faith: " Go thy
way," says he, " and as thou hast believed, so be it done to thee."
This is the answer which he makes the centurion, who comes to
him, begging that he would restore to health his servant stricken
with a mortal palsy : and this is the answer which he made on so
many other occasions, relatively to so many other persons ; every
where admiring and extolling faith, he who, it should seem, ought
to admire nothing ; every where proclaiming its force and efficacy ;
every where giving to understand that it was capable to obtain of
him anything : " Go thy way, and as thou hast believed, so be it
done to thee."

From these premises, certain heterodox teachers of the two last
centuries drew this false consequence : that the whole business of
man's salvation rests solely upon faith ; an error which the church
of God hath proscribed, as tending directly to destroy among
Christians the practice and necessity of good works. But I,
beloved hearers, shall draw, without running into such an extreme,
a much more solid subject from the gospel ; a subject which is the
groundwork of all Christian morality. And adhering to the words
of the Son of God: " As thou hast believed, so be it done to

ON FAITH.

117

thee," I shall set forth the genuine effects of faith, as it concerns
salvation,

In whatever manner, beloved Christians, I mean to explain this
interesting subject, my design is not to seek ways and expedients
to reconcile the opinion of modern heretics with the doctrine of the
church, in regard to the efficacy and virtue of faith, as I learn
from St. Augustin, that there is no mean between error and truth,
but that it is incumbent on me to confess the one, and to abjure
the other. The opinion, or, more properly, the error of our
modern heretics is, that faith alone is sufficient to justify us in the
presence of God ; that good works, how perfect soever, contribute
in no measure or degree to salvation ; that life everlasting is granted
us merely by way of inheritance, not as a reward ; an inheritance,
which it is not in our power to merit, and of which, without having
acquired a right to it, we enter on the possession. Such is the
language of heresy ; but this is the language of orthodoxy. It is
an article of faith, that faith, of itself, is insufficient to save us ;
that our good works make a great part of our justification ; that
we acquire, in virtue of these good works, a right to the glory
which God prepares for us ; and that his glory, by a marvellous
effect of the grace of Christ Jesus, is at the same time (as St.
Augustin expresses it) the gift of God, and the merit of man.

But waving a controversy, beloved Christians, unsuitable to the
present time and audience, I advance two orthodox and incontes-
tible propositions, which shall make the division of this discourse.
1st. It is Faith that saves us.
2ndly. Oftentimes it is faith that condemns us.
They seem contradictory, at first view. But this seeming con-
tradiction will afford me an opportunity of developing the noblest
and most sublime theological principles and maxims relating to
this important subject. The righteous saved, the wicked con-
demned, by faith. That the righteous will owe their salvation to
faith, because their justification, in a special manner, arises from
faith ; you shall see in the first part. That the wicked will owe
their damnation to faith, because their reprobation proceeds from
faith, unattended with good works ; you shall see in the second.

Part I. It is faith that saves us. This proposition is too ex-
pressly set down in the scriptures to be called in question. But
the point is to know, in what manner, and in what sense, it is true
to say, that it is faith which saves. Whereupon I assert, that we

118 ON FAITH.

are saved by faith two ways — as the perfection of our good works'?
and as the principle of our good works : as the perfection of our
good works, because it is from faith that the efficacy and value of
our good works derive. As the principle of our good works,
because it is from faith that the holy ardour which impels us to
practise them particularly derives to us. The sequel will put these
two reflections in a clearer light. Bend all your attention to the
one and the other.

1st. In what manner soever divines explain the justification of
men, it is an undoubted truth, as the scripture informs us, that
in the sight of heaven our actions draw their efficacy and value
from faith ; so that faith is the perfection, as it were, of our vir-
tues, and all our good works. I cannot be saved, nor pretend to
the reward Avhich God hath allotted me, independently of the merit
of good works. This is indubitable. But I must likewise own,
that my good works can have no merit before God, but by faith.
Faith it is, that must impress them with the seal of eternal life,
which St. Paul excellently denominates " a seal of the righteous-
ness of the faith." Rom. iv. And St. Chrysostoni tells us, that
as a piece of coin which should not be distinguished by the prince's
mark, how valuable soever it might otherwise be, would be deemed
of no value, or use in the common intercourse of trade ; so what-
ever I do, though honourable, laudable, and even great and he-
roical, if I do it not in the spirit, and it bear not wholly the charac-
teristic of faith, it were presumption to suppose it conducive to
salvation. This, beloved Christians, hath always been held incon-
testible in our religion, and ought to be the rule of our whole
conduct. This is what the apostle inculcated to the Jews with so
much zeal. This is what St. Augustin proved against the Pela-
gians with such energy and solidity. This is what the fathers
remonstrated incessantly to the heretics of their times ; and this
is what the preachers of the gospel at this day, more than ever,
should make known to their audiences : that without faith, I say,
a sincere, humble, obedient faith, whatever we do is of no utility
toward a blissful eternity.

Observe, Christians, my way of reasoning. The Jews put their
trust in the works of the law ; that is, in the sacrifices which the
law of Moses commanded them to offer ; and provided that they
inviolably observed this law, they were thoroughly convinced, that
all the promises made to Abraham would be fulfilled in them.

ON FAITH. I [i)

You are mistaken, my brethren, (St. Paul tells them;) you will
not be saved by the practice of your law, but by the faith of Christ
Jesus. Immolate whatever victims you please, purify your bodies
ever so much, make what professions you will of an exact and
religious worship, if all these observances, and all these ceremo-
nies, be not sanctified by faith, they are to no purpose. You have
been justified by faith, and faith it is that must give you access to
the throne of God. Thus, this apostolical man spoke to them.

The Pelagians depended on their natural good works, which
they thought God regarded in the distribution of his favours, call-
ing some and not others ; making choice of some in preference to
others, for the good works of nature, to receive this grace of voca-
tion and election. And (with St. Prosper) it must be acknow-
ledged, that this error had something extremely specious in it.
But it was still an error ; and the great St. Augustin was raised,
by God, to encounter and destroy it. No, (cries this incomparable
doctor,) the case is not so. The natural good works, on which you
rely, are of no effect in regard to salvation. They incline not God
to grant us his grace ; neither will he consider them to all eternity.
The merit of our lives is annexed to faith ; and nothing without
it can bring us to him.

In short, the heretics of almost every age of the church, have laid
great stress on their good works ; and by a blind presumption,
flattered themselves that they lived in their sect more holily than
the Catholics, were more reformed, more austere, more addicted
to the pious exercises of charity and penitence ; and to judge only
by the exterior, their pretensions were sometimes not ill founded.
But the fathers answered, that their boasts were groundless, their
faith being unsound ; that all their vaunted works of piety, how
shining soever, were dead works, and all their virtues chimerical
phantoms, as however fruitful they had been with faith, they were
barren without it; that in no field, save in the field of the
universal church, could they reasonably hope to gather good fruit ;
that whosoever should sow in any other field, would be a loser and a
squanderer ; for here I make use of their own expressions :
that it was in this church, which being universal, was the
only depositary of true faith, God, according to the testimony of
David, was willing to be praised : " With thee is my praise in the
great church ;" (Ps. xxi. ;) that out of it he gave ear to no praise
or prayers ; and that if any one presumed, with a corrupt faith 1

120 ON FAITH.

to appear at his altars, in order to perform the duties of religion,
it was to him he addressed, in a special manner, these tremendous
words: " What hast thou to do to declare my justice ? or that
thou shouldest take my testament in thy mouth ?" Ps. xlix. That
good works, unaccompanied by faith, far from being a fund of
merit to sectaries, would rather be a cause of confusion before God,
as he not only would be well pleased or satisfied with the good
which they did, unless they believed what they were bound to
believe, but would judge them more rigorously for not having
believed what they ought to have believed, although they did the
good they were bound to do ; in a word, that in the Christian
world, it was not by the substance absolutely of works, but by the
quality of faith, that God discriminated the righteous from the
wicked. All this is taken from St. Augustin; wherefore he
inferred, *that a Christian, who should practise whatever is most
holy, whatever is most perfect, in his station of life, but should
still be deficient in integrity of faith, would be eternally the object
of divine reprobation.

Such was the language, beloved Christians, of those great men,
whom God in his wisdom hath given us for teachers ; and such
the origin of the frightful irregularity, into which innumerable
haughty minds, seduced by the demon of infidelity, have fallen.
Ah ! Christians, who can conceive this, and form a just idea of it ?
Who can, for instance, ascertain how much merit the heresy of
Calvin hath destroyed ? How many good works it hath rendered
ineffectual ? What virtues it hath corrupted, and what admirable
fruits of grace it hath destroyed in the presence of God, which
the true faith would have brought to maturity ? For, in short,
let it be owned (though it were but to adore the unfathomable
depths of God's judgments) ; let it be owned sincerely (and by
the testimony we shall bear to a truth which doth not concern us,
let us convince ourselves feelingly and efficaciously of another, in
which our all is at stake) ; let it be owned, that in those unfor-
tunate sects, which schism hath raised up, some good hath been
done, at least to appearance. In the midst of those tares, the
enemy that had sown them, affected to make a good grain appear.
Some were modest, charitable, abstemious. It is, nevertheless,
incumbent on us, from the tenets of our religion, to believe that
as they bore not the sign of the living God on their foreheads,
that is the sign of faith ; how wonderful soever their deeds might

ON FAITH. 121

have been, God told'thenVperpetually : " I know you not." They
prayed, it is true, but their prayers were reprobated ; they fasted,
but God disregarded their fasts ; and had they made their com-
plaints to him, and asked the reason ; had they said, like the Jews :
" Wherefore have we fasted, and thou seest not ; have we humbled
our souls, and thou takest no notice ?" Isai. lv. God, ever righ-
teous, and ever certain that his proceedings are righteous, would
have made them this answer, founded in reason, and filled with
indignation : " Behold, in the day of your fast, your will is found ;"
(Isai. lv. ;) your pride, your obstinacy, your rebellion, your dispo-
sition of heart, directly opposite to that submission and obedience
of the understanding, which the purity of my church's faith
required.

And, indeed, when they appeared, at the instant of death, before
Almighty God, and produced their good works performed in heresy,
how inclined soever he is to reward, he was obliged, in his justice,
for the gravity of their sin, to reject and reprobate them, and by
the mouth of his prophet to pronounce this melancholy, dreadful
sentence : true it is, " ye have sown much ; (but your misfortune
is, that) ye have brought in little : ye looked for much, and lo ! it
came to little." Agg. i. Ye hoped to be greater gainers than
your brethren, who, without refinement, followed the beaten track
of faith ; but by grasping at a shadow, ye have lost the real and
substantial proof which ye might have acquired. " Ye brought
into the house, and 1 did blow upon it." Agg. i. Ye heaped
up a treasure, but a treasure of dust, which the winds swept away,
and scattered in the air. And "for what reason? saith the Lord
of hosts. Because (continues he) my house is left waste, and
ye have every man hastened into his own house." Ago-, i.
Because ye have abandoned my house, the church, and retired to
houses of your own making ; because ye have wantonly set up
churches after your own fancy ; because ye have sucked in the
poison of innovation, and hearkened to uncommisioned teachers
and preachers ; and because, by an unaccountable and capricious
infidelity, ye have adopted their sentiments, and preferred their
conduct to the universal rule which I had established. This,
says the Lord, (by the mouth of his prophet,) this is the worm
which spoiled and corrupted all your works.

Now, what Almighty God, beloved Christians, said at that
time, we may well say at this, and apply it to ourselves. For,

122 ON FAITH.

although among Catholics, or rather among those who bear that
name, there are no declared heretics ; you know what numbers
there are whose faith may at least be doubted, inasmuch as it is
not complete and pure. True it is, that they have not quitted
the pale of the church ; but they may remain in the pale of the
church externally, and want her faith. They may be in the com-
munion of the body of the church, and not of her spirit. They
are good livers, you tell me ; and chanty obliges me to close with
your assertion, , notwithstanding some instances that might render
their sincerity equivocal and questionable. But let them, if you
please, be angels or martyrs, with respect to morals, if nevertheless
they are wanting in purity of faith, humility of faith, sincerity of
faith, plenitude of faith, I will answer with St. Paul, that they
are hateful objects in the sight of heaven; because, " without
faith it is impossible to please God." Heb. xi. And I will add
with St. Cyprian, that it is faith, not their blood, which God
requires.

If, beloved Christians, we be fully persuaded of this important
truth, in how great estimation shall we hold the precious gift of
faith ? With what care shall we preserve it ? We shall not only
live in apprehension of losing it, but of hurting its beauty by the
smallest blemish, and of letting its chastity (as St. Ambrose ex-
presses it) suffer contamination in any shape. For, this holy
father considered faith, as a virgin whom the slightest stain dis-
honoured ; and such were his words, in speaking of St. Paul, and
of the primitive Christians, whose conduct that great apostle
inspected : " He feared lest they should lose the virginity of faith."
In all polemic debates whatever, instead of so much reasoning and
examining, instead of pursuing either our prejudice or our interest,
we shall beware of forming any other resolution, than that of pay-
ing filial obedience, and showing a perfect attachment to the
church ; that is to say, than that which stops all disputes and divi-
sions ; than that which the fathers have always and above all
things earnestly recommended ; than that which will preserve us
from all delusions, and all devious steps ; than that on which God
showers down his blessings, being obliged, himself, to direct and
protect us, and willing to work miracles, rather than permit us to
wander blindly, and be lost in the mazes and intricacies of error.
We shall frequently offer up the same prayer to God, that the
apostles did to Christ : " Lord, increase our faith ;" (Luke xvii. ;)

ON FAITH. 123

purify our faith, corroborate our faith ; for I know, my God, that it
is faith must save us, not only because it gives value to all the good
works which we practise, and is itself, as it were, their intrinsic
excellence ; but farther, because it induces us to practise them,
and is the very fountain from which they flow.

2ndly. And truly these are two different things, to act, and to
act well. Accordingly, though faith be a necessary condition for
the perfecting of our works, as Often as we act ; it is no good con-
sequence, that therefore it carries with it the peculiar virtue of
impelling us to action. I am not endued with the power of doing
the works of salvation without faith. This is the first proposition
I laid down. But it differs widely from this other ; so soon as I
have faith, I feel myself warmed, and impelled to perform the
works of salvation. Nor is anything better adapted to inspire us,
on this head, with the zeal and activity which we admire in the
saints, and in which Christian fervour essentially consists. Now,
in this other manner it is that we work our salvation by faith.

For, only figure to yourselves, my brethren — (it is a comparison
of St. Bernard's, and a very natural one it is) — figure to yourselves
faith, and suppose it to the righteous, as the first mover is to the
universe. That orb, which we call the first mover, hath so great
a superiority over all the others, and influences them so powerfully,
that he impresses them with his own movement and action ; and
while he rolls over our heads, makes them roll along with him,
according to his impulse. Were this first mover to stop his
course, the progressive motion of every other celestial body would
cease ; but as his movement is continual, that of the inferior orbs
is never interrupted. It is just so with faith. Faith, in the soul,
and in all the operations of divine grace, is the first mover. It is a
virtue superior to all the rest ; so that all the rest are subordinate
to it, and act not relatively to eternal life, but as they are impelled
by it. What I do for God, I do it in consequence of my having
faith, and proportionably as I have it. If I have great faith, I
am then determined to do great things for God. If I have but
little faith, I sink into sloth, and do but little for God. If I have
no faith at all, I shall infallibly do nothing at all for God.

This doctrine is plain and obvious, from our own experience ;
but St. Paul goes farther. He informs us, that faith is not only
the impulsive cause that all virtues operates in us, but the efficient
of all our virtues ; and that all supernatural aud divine virtues are

i2

124 ON FAITH.

nothing, in strict propriety of speech, but the instruments of faith ;
a truth which he declares, in his epistle to the Galatians, in deci-
sive terms, when he tells them that " faith worketh by charity ."
Gal. v. Weigh well these words. He says not that charity
works by faith, but that faith works by charity, loves by charity,
pardons by charity, relieves by charity ; as though charity had no
function peculiar to itself, and that whatever it did, or it under-
took, was the work of faith. Now if it be faith, when we love God
or our neighbour, that operates, (two duties, in which the whole
compass of the law is included,) can any one doubt that it is not
faith which radically saves and justifies us ?

And hence it arises, that the same apostle, by a train of deduc-
tions, (which cannot be pondered with too much care,) easily attri-
butes to faith alone, the most wonderful and heroic effects of all
the other virtues. He admits (as I may say) but this one virtue
in the Christian religion, and comprises in faith all Christian vir-
tues, as we find that St. Augustin comprised them in charity.
But St. Paul's theology is here more explicit than that of St.
Augustin ; for hear how he speaks in his excellent epistle addressed
to the Hebrews. He proposes (in order to excite our zeal) the
example of the patriarchs of the Old Testament ; and concentrating
their eulogy in one point of view, makes us clearly understand,
that all the great and good things they did, were done by faith :
that " Abel, by faith, offered to God a sacrifice more excellent
than Cain's ;" that " Abraham, by faith, offered Isaac when he
was tried ;" that " Moses, by faith, forsook Egypt ;" (Heb. xi. ;)
and so on of many others. But how? (says St. Chrysostom.)
Was it not his ardent charity for the people, that made Moses with-
draw from the land of Egypt ? Was it not the piety and religion
of Abel, that made him so liberal, and offer up so many victims
to God ? Was it not obedience that impelled Abraham to yield
submission to the decree of heaven, and form the resolution to
sacrifice his only beloved child ? Alas ! all this (replies the holy
doctor) was brought about by faith. Abraham, I own, obeyed
God ; and the obedience he paid him was more than human ; but
it was faith that obeyed in him, that stifled in his heart all the
sentiments of nature, and made him piously cruel to his own blood.
The reason is, that Abraham consented to the death of Isaac, and
disposed himself to carry the order of heaven into execution, in virtue
(to use the language of scripture) of that which he believed against

ON FAITH. 125

all belief, and of that which he hoped against hope itself: " Who,
against hope, believed in hope." Rom. iv. And for this reason,
(the scripture adds,) that " it was therefore imputed to him unto
justice ;" (Rom. iv. ;) that is, he believed, and was, therefore, jus-
tified. The text says not, that he believed, and therefore obeyed
God, went out of his house, gained the top of the mountain, pulled
off Isaac's clothes, lifted his arm, and forthwith was justified ; but
only that he believed, and was therefore justified : not after the
manner of florid declaimers, who eke out an argument with a chain
of inferences, but of close reasoners, who draw the last consequence
from the primary proposition. Abraham believed, and was there-
fore justified ; because, in reality, whatever else contributed to pro-
mote his justification, is, as in its principle and first cause, included
in this one word — believed.

Upon this account it is, that the Council of Trent, desirous to
give an exact idea of faith, declares that " it is the commencement,
the foundation, and the root of our justification." Mark well these
three characteristic words, which are linked in such manner, and
bear such analogy one to another, that the one signifies always
more than the other, as more is imported by foundation than com-
mencement, and by root than foundation. For, commencement is
that which holds the first place in the order of things. But besides
the foundation being the part by which the edifice commences, it
is that which sustains it, and bears all its weight. Now to sustain
is more than to begin. In like manner, although the root is the
original of the tree, and bears its whole weight, it also produces all
its branches, blossoms, and fruit. Now to produce is more than
to sustain ; and these are the three characteristics of faith. It
is the first of all our virtues. Further, it is the support of all our
virtues. Neither is this all ; it produces in us all our virtues.
That is, Christians, if I be righteous, not only I begin by faith,
and am upheld by faith, but I act and live by faith, according to
that oraculous expression of St. Paul : " My just man liveth by
faith." Heb. x. Oh ! what it is, beloved hearers, to be the just
of God ? How many may be called, at this very time, the just of
men, who are criminals and sinners in the presence of God ? But
my just man (says the Lord) hath no other life, in quality of just
man, than the life of faith ; I acknowledge no other. " My just
man liveth by faith."

And, in effect, if I live righteously, my whole life is of necessity

126

ON FAITH.

a life of faith. Whether I deliberate or act, fear or hope, seek or
shun, it is by the impulse of faith. It is faith that makes me love
my enemies, without which I should hate them. It is faith that
makes me hate worldly pleasures, without which I should court them.
It is faith that makes me forget injuries, without which I should
indulge the ranklings of animosity, and take revenge. It is faith
that makes me bless God in sufferings, makes me value poverty,
makes me choose an austere penitential life, without which I should
hold them all in abhorrence. Therefore, faith is the source and
origin of all good, is my life and salvation : " My just man liveth
by faith."

But if this be the case, how comes it to pass, that in the Chris-
tian religion, in the centre of the faith, that faith so spread all over
the earth, so many Christians are, nevertheless, absorbed in the
gulph of damnation, and so few arrive in the harbour of bliss ?
This, my brethren, this, I must own, is one of those difficulties,
those mighty difficulties, which filled the fathers of the church
with astonishment, and which seems to have held St. Augustin
himself, with all his intellectual light, in suspense. This difficulty,
however, I might elude, by contesting the principle on which it is
founded ; namely, that the faith is spread throughout all the world
in the same degree that we are pleased to suppose it. No, no,
would I say, it appears to be very far from evident ; and for the
honour and credit of the faith itself, I had rather question that it
is so general, than grant that, being so general, it produces
among us so little fruit. True it is, the preaching of the gospel
is carried into every known part of the earth ; but I would it
were the same with regard to faith ! for, faith differs widely from
the preachng of the gospel. The one is external grace, inde-
pendent on us; the other, an infused virtue, which we ought
to cultivate, and preserve in our hearts. This preaching of the
gospel, this external grace, by a favourable disposition of divine
Providence, is very common ; but I have great reason to fear that
faith is very rare. Christ asked his disciples, if, when he should
come, there would be faith upon the earth ; either not believing
(according to St. Chrysostom) that there would be any left, or
foreseeing in his wisdom, that there would be but little : " When
the Son of man cometh, shall he find, think ye, faith upon the
earth ?" Luke xviii. Now is not this word of our divine Saviour
more than ever verified in these our days ? Though the Son of

ON FAITH. 127

God had not spoken in that manner, would not the life which
Christians lead, be more than sufficient to make me doubt of their
faith ? and from the knowledge, however little, which I have of
the world, might I not conclude, at least suspect, that a secret and
disguised leaven of infidelity hath effected a general corruption in
their hearts ? For (as St. Bernard further observes) it is hard to
conceive that the generality of men should act quite differently
from their own belief, and that so monstrous a contradiction should
appear in their conduct, as that of living in the manner they live,
and still retaining the faith in their hearts. In this supposed
system, there is something so forcible, that it scarce can possibly
be long maintained. When I see a Christian as passionate, as
sensual, as ambitious as a pagan, and even more so than a pagan ;
instead of saying, as is commonly said on such occasions, that
man belies his faith, I should almost say, that man is absolutely
destitute of faith, because if he had any, it is inconceivable to me,
that he should belie it so universally, and so constantly, and that
believing one way, he should act another. When I see a woman,
a lady of fashion, tranquil in her vices, licentious in her converse,
loose in her communications, and scandalous in her intrigues ;
instead of saying (according to the ordinary language of the world)
the faith of that woman is weak and languid, steril and fruitless, I
would ask and say, is there a spark of faith remaining in that
woman ? because I am persuaded that more would not be neces-
sary to give her a horror of her state, and induce her to relinquish it.
In this manner should I reason ; and it would be both for the
interests and honour of faith. For it would be more to its honour,
that most men should be reputed ungodly and faithless, than be
deemed to have a faith that should resist nothing, surmount
nothing, perform nothing ; what do I say ? that should suffer them
to fall into shameful vices, and utter abominations. And if it be
urged, that those very sinners, who on one hand give the reins
to their inordinate passions, and on the other loudly protest that
they have faith : I know, would I say, that they loudly protest
it ; but the point is to know, what dependence may be had on their
protestations, and were it not better to bring them to the test
which St. James required : " Show me thy faith without works."
James ii. If, therefore, dear Christians, you who, perhaps, pique
yourselves on that which you have not, would ascertain me of your
faith, make it good by your works ; for so long as 1 find, that your

128

ON FAITH.

daily practice runs counter to your words, and I see no works, I
shall have no reliance on your asseverations. And truly, beloved
hearers, is not this what we are come to by the iniquity of the
times ? What assurance or conviction is there of the faith of
Christians ? How can it be determined, whether they have it, or
have it not ? Who knows what they are ? Is not this the deplo-
rable situation of that which is called the world ? Enter into the
stately places of princes, examine the lowly dwelling] of the cot-
tager, be present, if possible, at the secret counsels and schemes of
politicians, take a survey of the manners in routs and assemblies,
cast your eyes round in churches and holy places, every where
you will doubt that there is no faith, because you will no where
find anything but scandal and depravity of manners : " Shall he
find, think ye, faith upon the earth ?"

But I shall insist no longer on this topic. The libertine, per-
chance, might avail himself of it, and use it as a pretext to abide
by his notions. For, one of the libertine's pretext is, that there is
no faith, or real relief; whereby he pretends to impute his wicked-
ness to what seems reasonable — a want of persuasion, not a corrup-
tion of heart. Be it, therefore, admitted, that of the vast number
of Christian people who are lost in the world, there are many, in
fact, who preserve the faith. Be every tiling granted that can
be granted : to wit, be it granted, that their faith subsists.

Be this their comfort, that it is in their power to keep it entire
amidst all the excesses of a criminal life. The church disputes
not this advantage with them ; nay, she maintains them in the
possession of it by an express decree of the Council of Trent, which
declares, that destruction of faith is not a consequent, on all occa-
sions, of a vicious life. Let us join issue with her. One may be
a Christian, and a bad man ; one may have the faith, and act
against it. But shall we, in that case, be saved by faith ? So far
from it, our faith will condemns us, as I am going to make appear
in the second part.

Part II. We ought not to wonder, beloved Christians, that
the same faith which saves us, should- be that which condemns us
in the sight of God. In this it doth only what Christ himself
doth. Though the author o£our salvation, through the ill use we
make of his merits and graces, oecomes the author of our reproba-
tion. So faith, which was given us for our justification, becomes
instrumental toward our condemnation, according to the difference

ON FAITH. 129

of our behaviour to it, and the various treatment it receives from
us. But, why doth it condemn us ? and how doth it condemn
us ? Two important points these, which remain to be elucidated,
and which call upon you for more than ordinary attention.

1st. I say, that faith, when we square not our lives to its
maxims, condemns us, because we hold it (according to the expres-
sion of St. Paul) in injustice ; because (to speak in the language of
St. Ambrose) we deprive it of its fairest fruits, good works ; and
because (in the mind of St. James the apostle) we occasion its
death in our very hearts. Now are not these so many affronts
which we offer it, and for which, if I may venture so to speak,
it will take vengeance by condemning us.

Mark my assertion : we hold it in injustice. They are the
teacher of the Gentiles own words : " Who hold the truth of God
in injustice." Rom. i. Now it is by faith that the truth of God is
in us ; and so long as we lead a disorderly life, it cannot be denied,
that we offer it violence, and hold it in close subjection and bon-
dage. The reason is, that we refuse it the liberty of acting in us
in the manner it would and it ought to act. In the infancy of
Christianity, (St. Bernard remarks,) when persecutions raged, the
faith was free, while the faithful were in chains. But although
persecutions are now no more, the faithful enjoy a liberty they
abuse, and the faith is enchained, as it were, and held captive.
Oh ! how great reason for shame and condemnation ! In prisons,
and in dungeons, the martyrs proclaimed the faith with which
their hearts were replenished, and, in spite of tyranny, confessed
publicly the name of Jesus Christ. Strange ! that now the church
is in peace, the faith of Christians should no longer enjoy the same
liberty, but that Christians themselves should become its perse-
cutors, and exert more cruelty towards it than infidels, as they
bring it into slavery, a slavery to which the power of infidelity
could never reduce it : " Who hold the truth of God in injustice."
Mind the word injustice ; for, St. Paul says not barely, that we
hold our faith captive ; but that we hold it captive in injustice ;
which is the most shameful and invidious of all servitudes. This
faith, indeed, is extremely holy ; but we make it reside in extremely
tepid and criminal souls. It is extremely chaste ; but we make it
dwell in extremely sensual and voluptuous souls : " We hold the
truth of God in injustice." What, therefore, does faith do ? All !
beloved hearers, may I here be permitted to use this figurative

130 ON FAITH.

mode of speaking. Our faith thus treated, thus dishonoured and
profaned, rises up against us, demands justice of God, and cries
out to his tribunal. Nor can it be doubted that he hearkens to
and sides with it, to our utter destruction.

In this particular, we are the more culpable and deserving of
censure, because we destroy and bring to nought by our vicious
lives, its finest fruit, and most blessed fecundity. For, as we have
seen, faith is the origin of all our virtues, a fruitful origin, which
continually produces new fruits of grace, or is capable to produce
them. Of this assertion the proof is obvious. To say nothing of
the patriarchs in the old law, and of their wonderful works,
which the great apostle hath so accurately sketched out in hia
epistle to the Hebrews, call to mind the great things which have
been done in the new, by so many martyrs of both sexes, and so
many pious solitaries and penitents ; which still are done by so
many holy cloistered religious, and virtuous souls in the wide
world. Revolve with yourselves whatever you have heard of their
bloody flagellations, their protracted prayers, their watchings and
labours, their abstinence and fasts, their zeal and fervour, and of
the wonderful constancy with which they practised, to their latest
breath, the whole compass of evangelical perfection. These are
the fruits of faith ; and these it may easily produce in us with our
own concurrence. For although the fervency of the faithful be
relaxed, the virtue of faith is no way diminished. It ever proposes
to us the same truths, and in the same truths the same motives to
excite and impel us. But, beloved Christians, as we live after the
spirit of the world and the flesh, we nip these fruits in the very
bud. Faith we want not ; but active as it is, it makes us not more
vigilant, not more exact in the observance of our duty, not more
addicted to the works of godliness. It is listless and steril, because
we put a stop to all its actions.

Nay, more : we are the death of it, according to the expression
of St. James the apostle. For, faith is quickened by good works,
which, as I may say, are its vivifying spirit. As the body, then, is
dead, the moment the enlivening soul is departed, faith, in like
manner, should be deemed extinct, if not accompanied with the
good works by which it was animated : " For as the body without
the spirit is dead, so faith without works is dead also." Jaci. ix.
And to take it in a plain and natural sense, without figurative
expressions, we may affirm that nothing conduces more directly or

ON FAITH. 131

speedily to infidelity and licentiousness of belief, than licentious-
ness of manners. Now as you have wickedly murdered your faith,
what can you in reason expect but a severe and rigorous sentence ?
Think, beloved hearers, think seriously, what it is to have mur-
dered your faith. It is a grievous crime, for which you will one
day be called to account, and obliged to undergo correspondent
penalty. Then shall this faith, now dead in your heart, either
through the slothfulness or viciousness of your life, revive all at
once, rise up against you, and appear before God to your conviction
and condemnation.

2ndly. 1 say to your conviction ; for you desire to know, not
precisely why, but how it will condemn you. And indeed, it is
easy to make this point sufficiently clear. I shall do it by evincing
the truth of the three following assertions : that you might have
lived like a Christian : that you ought to have lived like a Chris-
tian : that you have not by any means lived like a Christian.
Convinced of these, you will be unable to reply, and must, against
your will, subscribe to the sentence of eternal reprobation pro-
nounced against you.

Faith will convince you that it was in your power to have lived
like a Christian, because nothing was wanting to that end, neither
knowledge nor assistance. Not knowledge, inasmuch as it served
you, itself, for a teacher, revealed to you all truths to enlighten
your understanding, and, without intermission, raised tumults and
alarms in the bottom of your heart ; sometimes it stirred you up
by hope, sometimes it restrained you by fear, sometimes it engaged
you by a holy love, sometimes it attracted you by a solid advan-
tage, always it instructed you and impelled you to rectitude. Not
assistance, inasmuch as you had, in the Christian religion, all the
succours of grace : so many sacraments to purify you, to strengthen
you, to reconcile you to God, to feed your soul, and make you
more and more virtuous ; so many ministers of the Lord, deposito-
ries of the law of God, to instruct you in it, dispensers of the
treasures of God to distribute them to you, filled with the Spirit
of God to communicate it to you, invested with the power of God
to sanctify you ; so many good counsels, pathetic and vehement
exhortations, salutary examples ; in a word, so many means, to
enumerate which would be an endless task, and the use of which
would have infallibly saved you. Now, to have known, and to
have been able, are the whole reasons why the wicked servant

132 ON FAITH.

shall be the more severely judged, the more rigorously condemned,
and the more grievously punished.

You are still more deserving of God's chastisements, because
faith will convince you not only that you ought to have led a
Christian life, but that such was your duty. For, your word was
engaged. You had made that promise in the face of the altar,
and over the sacred font of baptism. You had solemnly renounced
the devi land all his works, the world and all its pomps, the flesh and
all its sensual desires. All this was promised and vowed in your
name ; and so soon as you were arrived at sufficient maturity, you
ratified, yourself, the same promise and vow to God. Now a pro-
mise to God cannot be insignificant ; and of all contracts, there is
none more inviolable than that which is made with so great a
master. The moment, therefore, that you submitted to the faith,
you submitted to the law. That is, the moment you were
honoured with the character of Christian, and began to bear that
sacred name, you were consequently, and indispensably obliged
to perform all the duties of a Christian, and were responsible for
them to your faith and to your God.

But to put this matter in a clearer light, and to examine it
more narrowly : of all contradictions, is there none more absurd,
than to act more contradictorily to what we believe, or believe con-
tradictorily to what we do ? And of all infidelities, is it not one
of the most criminal and monstrous, to have renounced, in the
presence of God, to hell, and to the works of darkness, which are
so many sins proscribed by the law, and to commit them with
impunity, voluntarily, and habitually ? To have renounced the
pomps and vanities of the world, and to make them our idols ?
To wish for nothing else, to pant after them perpetually, to seek
them without ceasing, and to take no pains but for that end, and
with that view ? To renounce the flesh, and live after the flesh,
hearkening' but 'to passion, and blindly following the lures and
suggestions of corrupt nature.

Of this, however, will faith convince you ; and it is the last tes-
timony which it will bring against you : I mean, that notwith-
standing it was quite in your power, and your incumbent duty, to
lead a Christian life, yet your manner of life was directly the
contrary. For, developing all these principles and maxims, it
will compare them with your life ; or developing your life, it will
compare it with all these principles and maxims. Now what an

ON FAITH. 133

opposition ! A faith which teaches us to despise terrestrial and
perishable things ; and a life taken up in procuring, preserving,
hoarding them, by every manner of means, just or unjust, which
an insatiable and unbounded avarice inspires. A faith which
informs us, that it is our duty to be humble, and to decline the
honours of this world, and its shadowy greatness ; and a life
employed in cares, in projects, in intrigues, sometimes very cri-
minal, and all this to scrape together a wretched fortune. A
faith which inculcates mortification, penance, and self-abnegation ;
and a life spent in gaming, at plays and routs, in parties of plea-
sure, and beastly voluptuousness. A practical and active faith,
and a life devoid of all Christian works. Is this to be a Christian,
or to live like a Christian ? To do nothing of all that faith com-
mands, but every thing it forbids ? Such are the reproaches
which you may expect from your faith ; and after such reproaches,
reproaches so founded as to preclude subterfuge, what can you
look for but judgment without mercy ?

And now, beloved hearers, I shall dismiss you with a reflection
which cannot take up your thoughts too much. It must needs be
that my faith save me, or that my faith damn me. There is no
medium. If my faith be not the origin of my justification, it will
infallibly be the cause of my reprobation. It depends upon myself
to make it the means of my salvation, because it depends upon
myself to make use of it in the manner in which I ought, and
which God requires. But if it should not, through my own fault, be
the means of my salvation, or if I should render such means unpro-
fitable, it is out of my power to liinder it from being the means of
my damnation, because it is a talent put into my hands by God
himself, a talent for which I am accountable to him, and which I
am bound to turn to the advantage he expected. It would, there-
fore, be a great and fatal mistake, to class my faith with indif-
ferent things, wMch can do no harm when they do no good. If
my faith bring me not to the supreme good, it will plunge me into
the greatest of all evils. It lies at my option to take which I
please ; but I must of necessity choose this or that. What do I
say ? Is there room to deliberate ? Can I hesitate a moment,
inasmuch as to fence against a woful eternity, and to gain the
fruition of a sovereign felicity, is the point in question ?

Ah ! Christians, let us often ruminate on the heavy charges
which faith will bring against us, and the galling reproaches with

134 ON FAITH.

which it will load us, before God's tribunal. Scarce do we now
bestow a thought upon them ; but so soon as the pageantry of the
world shall vanish, and faith stand forth in opposition to us, in the
presence of God, what answer shall we make ? For this crisis,
beloved hearers, we should make preparation every day of our life.
It will cost you, it is true, some trouble, some subjection, some
violence, some efforts ; but a temporal constraint is much more
eligible, than to run the risk of never-ending woes. For, allow
me to repeat what I cannot explain with too much minuteness,
nor you can hear with too great attention : if ever you be lost, it
is faith that will administer your greatest torment. No longer
shall you enjoy the glorious benefit of this supernatural and divine
faith, which is one of the most precious gifts of heaven. Of that
favour will God divest you. But you will still have the remem-
brance and character of it, and the knowledge which it used to
communicate to you ; and all this will be your greatest punish-
ment. I say, you will have the remembrance of the faith that
taught you such solid truths, which you despised ; that gave you
such sacred rules of conduct, which you did not put in practice ;
that promised you such great and everlasting rewards, which you
neglected to merit : and this remembrance will give you greater
anguish than all the fire of hell together. You will wear the cha-
racter of tliis faith, that is, the character of baptism, which will be
a sign for the ministers of God's justice, the infernal spirits, thereby
to discern you, among myriads of the reprobate, and to exercise
over you, with greater violence, the fulness of their rage. You
will still have the knowledge which this faith gave you ; and that
knowledge will make up for the deficiency of this faith : insomuch
that you will believe as the devils believe ; that you will tremble
like them, and despair like them, that for you, as for them,
your belief will be the cause of your eternal shame.

It were, therefore, more desirable to have never had faith.
Yes, my brethren, it were more advantageous to have never had
faith, than to have profaned and tarnished it by a criminal life.
But even to do that will be out of your power ; for, it will, in spite
of you, be eternally true, that you had been a Christian ; and you
will be forced, eternally, to undergo punishment, for having been
one nominally and theoretically only, devoid of morals, and without
good works.

But in order to prevent this stinging reproach, and this dreadful

ON FAITH. 135

chastiseme^;, you ask : to what resolution must we come ? To
none other than to keep the faith, and to live conformably to its
documents. It instructs us in things repugnant to the senses ;
but we must submit to them. It tells us that the world is our
greatest enemy ; let us, therefore, shun it. It lays on us an obli-
gation of hating and denying ourselves ; let us labour to acquire
this self-denial, and put it in practice, as much as is needful. It
commands us to mortify the flesh by the spirit, and to curb its
desires ; let us generously and constantly struggle against it. It
warns us to be humble in the height of greatness, to be poor in
affluence, to be mortified in the midst of ease and conveniencies ;
let us use our endeavours toward carrying all this into execution.
In the assistance of grace, and in the motives of faith, we shall
find wherewithal to animate and strengthen us, and make all things
easy to us Let us beg this assistance of God with confidence,
and he will grant it liberally. Let us place these motives conti-
nually before our eyes, and they will ever uphold us. Then shall
we deserve to hear from the mouth of our Lord and Saviour, the
words addressed to the centurion in the gospel : " As thou hast
believed, so be it done unto thee." The talent with which I
entrusted you, you have turned to good account, and have made
your faith active, and productive of good works : come, and enjoy
your reward. You have walked in the path which it pointed out
to you, with steadiness and perseverance : come, and take posses-
sion of my heavenly kingdom, to which it invited you, and in
which you shall enjoy everlasting felicity.

136

SERMON VII.

ON THE CHRISTIAN RELIGION.

" Certain of the Scribes and of the Pharisees answered him,
saying : Master, we would see a sign from thee. Who answering,
said to them : An evil and adulterous generation seeketh after a
sign ; and there shall be no sign given them, but the sign of the
prophet Jonas." Matt. xii.

It was curiosity, but a presumptuous, a captious, a malignant
curiosity, that prompted the Pharisees to put this question to the
Saviour of the world. A presumptuous curiosity, as, instead of
prevailing with the Son of God, by an humble supplication, to
grant as a favour that which they petitioned, they seem to insist
upon it, as if showing their desire gave them a right sufficient to
obtain their will : " Master, we would.'' A captious curiosity, as
by what we read in another gospel, they proposed this question
with a view to tempt him, and lay a snare in his way : " Others
tempting him, sought of him a sign from heaven." Luke xL A
malignant curiosity, as their sole design was thereby to ruin him,
being determined to turn even his miracles against him, for which
they impeached him as for so many crimes, and which at last they
made use of, in order to load him with calumnies, and crush him.
For, hence it is, that our blessed Saviour made answer with a zeal
full of wisdom on one hand, and indignation on the other ; that he
satisfied their curiosity, only to reproach them, at the same time,
with their hardness of belief; that he treated them as an evil and
adulterous generation ; in fine, that he cited them to the bar of
heaven, because he foresaw that the prodigy which he should
show them, but to which they would pay no manner of regard,
would but serve to embarrass them : " The men of Nineve shall
rise up in the judgment with this generation, and shall condemn
it." Matt. xii.

Tliis, beloved hearers, is the whole purport of that passage from
which my text is taken ; and this example of that hypocritical set

ON THE CHRISTIAN RELIGION. 137

of people, is nothing more than what daily happens between God
and ourselves.

My meaning is this : we want that God would make us see
miracles, to confirm us in the faith ; and he shows us such as we
profit not by, such as we are utterly insensible to : miracles, 'which
render, by the use we make of them, our hardness of heart the
more criminal, as they are voluntary, and proceed, like that of the
Pharisees, from the perversity of our own will, and the corruption
of our own hearts. Now this is that which our Divine Master con-
demns in these supposed freethinkers of Judaism ; and for this he
will likewise condemn us, if we fall into the like track of infidelity.

I find in Tertullian a noble saying, and perfectly characteristic
of the Christian profession : " That since the promulgation of the
evangelical law, curiosity is impertinent, and can, for the future,
be of no utility ; much less can it be necessary, as nothing remains
but to believe in the word, and submit our reason to the dictates
of faith." Thus he explains himself. But for my part, Clnistians,
I am bold enough to carry it still farther, and to add, that though
it were allowable in the Christian religion to make new researches,
and to argue upon topics relating to faith, and upon the mysteries
it reveals, we should find in Jesus Christ, and in his holy gospel,
not only wherewithal to convince our understanding, but to satisfy
our curiosity in every manner. The reason is, that Christ our
Lord hath shown us in his person such shining prodigies, which
display such evidence, that no reasonable mind can question them ;
and because, if we be not affected with them, it must arise only
from our ill disposition, for which we shall answer, and which will
draw down upon us all the rigour of God's judgment.

This, beloved Christians, is the important matter I purpose to
speak to in this discourse. Give me leave to address myself to the
divine Spirit, most humbly beseeching him, that through the inter-
cession of the Mother of God, he would deign to grant me the
necessary knowledge and illumination.

It was not without reason, that the Pharisees, with a view of
finding out if Christ were the Son of God, desired of him a pro-
digy which should come from himself: " Master, we would see a
sign from thee." For, it must be allowed (as St. Augustin
:es) that there are two different kinds of prodigies. Some
coi:j from God, others from man. Some raise admiration, being
le testimonies of the absolute power and will of the Creator ;

K

138 ON THE CHRISTIAN RELIGION.

others cause horror, being the melancholy effects of the viciousness
of the creature. Those we revere, and denominate miracles ; these
we deem monsters, in the order of grace. Let us see a prodigy
(say the Pharisees to Jesus) which comes from yourself. But what
doth this adorable Saviour do ? Be attentive, I pray you ; for
herein is placed the ground- work on which this instruction is raised.
Of these two different kinds of prodigies, thus distinguished, he
lets them see one, which could proceed only from the God of
heaven, an evident miracle, the faith of the Ninevites converted by
the preaching of the prophet Jonas ; but at the same time lays
another before them, of an opposite nature, which could not ori-
ginate but in themselves ; the prodigy of their infidelity. Now,
beloved hearers, we need but contemplate these two sorts of pro-
digies, in order to see ourselves in the persons of the Pharisees,
and oblige ourselves, by taking a comparative view of our own
state with theirs, to grant that, perhaps, the reproach of our Saviour
is not less suitable to ourselves, than to these false teachers of the
law ; that in the same sense in which he understood it, we are not,
perhaps, less an evil and adulterous generation than they were ; and
that he might, with equal reason, summon us to appear at that
tremendous bar, to which he cited them in these words : " The
men of Nineve shall rise up in judgment with this generation."
For I maintain, (and in two propositions I shall give you the divi-
sion of this discourse ;) I say, I maintain, first, that Jesus Christ
in the establishment of his religion, hath shown us a more authentic
and convincing miracle, than the conversion of the Ninevites, and
that miracle is, the conversion of the world, and the propagation
of the gospel. Secondly, that day after day, we oppose to this mira-
cle a prodigy of infidelity, much more monstrous, and much more
culpable, than that of the Pharisees.

Both these are prodigies : the one supernatural and wholly di-
vine, and that is the conversion and sanctification of the world by
the preaching of the gospel ; the other but too natural and too
human, but nevertheless a prodigy, and that is our infidelity.
Both these import a right of condemnation, which God, in his
judgment, will produce against us, if we be at no pains to prevent
it by passing judgment on ourselves from this very moment. A
miracle of faith, a prodigy of infidelity. A miracle of faith, which
God hath made plain and obvious to us, and hath placed continu-
ally before our eyes ; a prodigy of infidelity, from whicli to pre-

ON THE CHRISTIAN RELIGION. 1 3<)

serve yourselves you take no care, but which, on the contrary, you
cherish in your hearts. A miracle of faith, which will cause in
your breasts a kindly shame, by displaying the excellency and
grandeur of your religion ; a prodigy of infidelity, which, after
being the source of your present depravation, will perhaps be the
cause of your eternal reprobation. Both the one and the other
require and deserve particular attention.

Part I. In order, therefore, beloved Christians, to enter into
the spirit of our Saviours words, and to touch the point which I
am going to enlarge upon, wre must thoroughly comprehend this
mighty miracle of the conversion of the world, and establishment
of Christianity ; which I look upon (with St. Jerom) as the mira-
cle of faith. And because it is indubitable, that this miracle will
be one of the most invincible proofs which God (if ever we should
be reprobated) will make use of against us ; you and I must, this
day, form a just idea of it, capable to awaken the most lively sen-
timents of religion in our hearts. It is a great subject, I owrn ; it
hath exhausted the eloquence of the fathers of the church, and
exceeded the extent of the human understanding. But let us ad-
here to the simple and unadorned exposition which St. Chrysostom
hath made of it in one of his homilies : and that we may the bet>-
ter comprehend the truth of this matter, let us fonn our judgment
by that wThich he hath represented as the type, or figure of it ; I
mean the conversion of the people of Nineve, and the prodigious
and miraculous effects resulting from the preaching of Jonas ; and
thus I proceed :

Jonas, a fugitive, but, for all his flight, unable to flee from the
power and will of God, who sends him, overwhelmed with shame,
and touched with repentance, receives, on the part of the Lord, a
fresh order to repair to Nineve. He goes. Though a foreigner
and unknown, he preaches, and declares that he is sent by God.
This great city, and all its inhabitants, he threatens with a total and
impending destruction. No more time allowed than forty days ;
no other proof to ascertain his prediction than his very prediction :
and this people, abandoned to vices of every kind ; this people,
who seemingly disregarded both God and law ; this people, refrac-
tory to the remonstrances and documents of all the other prophets,
relying on his word, and changed by the Almighty hand of the
Most High, hearken to him with respect, enter into themselves,
endeavour to appease the wrath of God, perform the most austere

k 2

140 ON THE CHRISTIAN RELIGION.

and exemplary penance. Neither age, nor sex, nor estate, is ex-
cepted. The king himself (says the inspired historian) comes
down from the throne, to weep and humble himself. The children
are comprised in the law of fasting, enacted by the prince. Every
one girded with rough hair-cloth, and sprinkled with ashes, shows
signs of a speedy and efficacious sorrow. In fine, so complete is
the reformation of manners, that the prophecy is fulfilled to the
letter, "and Nineve is overturned," (as according to an apposite
thought of St. Chrysostom,) it is no longer that abandoned and
dissolute Nineve, which was held by God in so great abomination :
but a new and holy Nineve, raised by the ministry of a single man
on the ruins of the other, a man replenished with the Spirit of God,
who sanctified and rent the hearts of thousands. This (says our
Saviour to the incredulous Jews) is the miracle which will con-
demn and confound your impenitence. And I say to every Chris-
tian who is hardened in his libertine ways : this is the miracle
which the divine Spirit proposes as the figure of another more aston-
ishing, more beyond the power and reach of man, more capable to
work a conviction in our hearts, and lift them up to God. Give
ear attentively, and without prejudice, to what I shall advance,
and you will readily grant it.

The miracle performed by the preaching of Jonas, was a sign
for the Jews ; but here is for you another, which I look upon as
the miracle of Christianity. Happy should I be, should I be able
to engrave it deeply in your minds ! I mean the conversion, not
of one town or province, but of the whole world, by the preaching
of the gospel, and by the mission of a greater man than Jonas, a
God-man, Christ Jesus : " And behold a greater than Jonas here."
Matt. xii. Let us drop the consideration of his Godhead for a
moment. We examine not at present what he is, but what he
did. To be brief, Christians, he did what we never can sufficiently
comprehend, but what we for ever should seriously consider. Give
me grace, O Lord, to display this matter in the strongest light,
by a recital as affecting, as exact and faithful !

Jesus, the son of Mary, and the reputed son of Joseph, whom
the Jews regarded as the son of a mechanic, " Is not this the car-
penter's son?" (Matt. xiii. ;) undertakes to make a change through-
out the universe, and to substitute for idolatry, superstition and error,
the pure worship of the living God. A design worthy of him ; a vast
an immense design, the success of which I shall lay before you.

ON THE CHRISTIAN RELIGION. 141

For this end, of whom did he make choice ? Of twelve unpo-
lished, ignorant, weak, unaccomplished disciples, but so filled with
his Spirit, that in a day, in a moment, he endows them with all
the necessary qualifications for this great work. In fact, these
men, so unrefined, (or to use his own expression,) so slow of heart
to believe, by the virtue of the Spirit which he sends them from
heaven, are fired with zeal, and replenished with faith. These
fishermen, these weak men, who were looked upon (says St. Paul)
" as the refuse of the world, the off-scouring of all;" (1 Cor. iv. ;)
well stored with the grace peculiar to their apostleship, share
among them the conquest and reformation of the world. Their
only arms are patience, their only treasure poverty, their only coun-
sel simplicity ; and yet every tiling yields to them. They preach
mysteries incredible to the human understanding, and they are
believed. They declare a gospel diametrically opposite to man's
inclinations, and it is received. They declare it to the great, to
the learned, to the wise of this world, and submission is paid to it.
The great receive the law from the poor, the learned are convinced
by the ignorant, the voluptuous and the sensual are instructed by
these new preachers of the cross, and undergo the burden of mor-
tification and penance. Of all these, is formed a body of Chris-
tians, so holy, so pure, so distinguished for virtues of every kind,
that paganism itself is unable to refrain from paying them a tribute
of admiration.

This is not all : and what I have to add, methinlis, should
appear still more surprising. For, the Christian faith is scarcely
promulgated by the twelve apostles, and spreads its influence, but
it feels the iron rod of persecution from a thousand enemies. All
the powers of the earth rise up against it. Dioclesian, the mighty
master of the world, makes a politic point of reducing it to nothing.
But in spite of his efforts, and the violence of so many other per-
secutors of the Christian name, the faith is established, unshaken
and immoveable, on a solid basis. Thousands of martyrs stand
forth, and defend it by the effusion of their blood. People of all
ranks value themselves on becoming victims to it, and on immo-
lating themselves for it. Innumerable virgins bear to it the same
testimony, and suffer in their tender and delicate bodies, with joy,
the most cruel and excruciating torments. It spreads, it multiplies
not only in Judea, where it took its rise, but to the extremity of
the earth, where, in the days of St. Jerom, (it is he who remarks

142 ON THE CHRISTIAN RELIGION.

it as a kind of prodigy,) the name of Jesus Christ was revered and
adored, not only among barbarians, but civilized nations ; at Rome,
where the religion of a crucified God, in a short time, is the esta-
blished religion ; in the palaces of emperors, where God, with a
view to settle his church, raises fervent Christians in the midst of
iniquity ; in short, (and take special notice of this,) in the most
enlightened of all ages, in the age of Augustus, which the Lord
made choice of to display the more conspicuously the character of
his law, a law, 'which was destined to overthrow, alone, all the
wisdom of man, and all the pride of reason.

Let us own, (with St. Chrysostom,) beloved hearers, that though
the Christian religion had met with, in the world, all the necessary
favour and support from its infancy ; though it had commenced
without storm, persecution, or distress ; yet a thousand other indi-
cations and circumstances evidently demonstrate it to be the work
of God. But that it should be established in persecutions, or
rather by persecutions; that it should never have been more
flourishing, than when most violently attacked ; that the blood of
its propagators (as one of the fathers of the church expresses it)
should be the source of fruitfulness ; that the greater its losses were
by fire and faggot, the greater should be its acquisitions by the
gospel ministry ; that the cruelty exercised against some proselytes,
shoidd be a powerful attraction in the call of others ; that by the
sufferings, death, and resignation of its members, tliis body of
Christians should have so great, so speedy, so marvellous an increase,
is one of those prodigies, beloved brethren, at which human wisdom
must acknowledge the narrowness of its own limits, and pay lowly
homage to the power of the Deity. This is a wonderful, a sub-
sisting fact, a fact that displays itself before our eyes, and to which
we bear witness. For, in spite of hell, we see the world become
Christian, and submitted to the worship of the God-man, at whom
the Jews are scandalized, and the Gentiles scoff : " This is the
Lord's doing, and it is wonderful in our eyes." Ps. cxvii.

And to the intent that we may be impressed with a stronger
idea of this wonder, the same heavenly Lord hath renewed it in
these latter ages of the church. You know that full well. Francis
Xavier, alone, and unattended by ought but the word, and the
doctrine he preached, converted in the east an entire new world.
They were pagans and idolaters, and he formed them to the same
holiness of life and manners, inspired them with the same ardour

ON THE CHRISTIAN RELIGION. 143

for martyrdom, and made appear in them whatever appealed the
most heroical and most striking in ancient Christianism, so perfect
and so venerable. And how did he compass it ? By the same
means, (notwithstanding the same obstacles,) with the same success.
As if God had taken pleasure in exhibiting, once more, in this
renowned successor of the apostles, what his omnipotent hand had
operated by the ministry of the apostles themselves ; and had been
willing to give us, by these examples, fresh credentials for all that
we have heard of past ages.

Now, I hold, beloved hearers, that after this, we have no right
to ask miracles of God ; and that we outgo, in incredulity, the
Pharisees themselves, if we have, like them, the presumption to
say, " We would see a sign." The reason is, that the conversion
of the world, such as I have described it, however imperfectly, is,
beyond all doubt, a perpetual miracle. Whereupon there are
three reflections to be made, or three circumstances to be remarked.
A miracle, which surpasses all other miracles ; a miracle, which
presupposes all other miracles ; a miracle, which verifies, in the
order of Providence, all other miracles. And by a melancholy,
but yet inevitable consequence, a miracle, which, if it becomes not
a means of our instruction and conversion, must make us deserving
of God's chastisements. My God ! that I am not endowed with
one of those tongues of fire, which descended from heaven on the
twelve deputed to propagate your word, and that my breast is not
filled with the same spirit that actuated theirs, in order to impress
so sublime a truth on the hearts of all !

Yes, Christians, the conversion of the world is a perpetual
miracle, which infidelity will never be able to destroy. In this
light it was always considered by all the fathers of the church,
particularly St. Augustin, whose judgment, in this place, we may
make, without danger, the rule of our own. For that great man
shut the mouths of the pagans by this way of reasoning : " Since
you are so opinionated as to refuse credit upon any authority to
the other miracles, which for us are incontestable proofs of our
faith, grant at least, therefore, that in your own system, there is
one which you must admit, and that miracle is, the conversion of
the world to the religion of Jesus without any miracle. For,
things which are not, and which could never be, would be the
miracle of miracles. And to what, therefore, (continues St.
Augustin,) shall we attribute this work, the sanctification of the

144 ON THE CHRISTIAN RELIGION.

world, if we have not recourse to the infinite virtue and power of
God ? The honour of it cannot be justly ascribed either to the
strength and refinements of the human understanding, or to the
bland insinuations and charms of eloquence. For although the
apostles had been as renowned for eloquence and learning, as they
really were otherwise, it is well known what human eloquence and
learning are capable of; or, rather, it is but too well known how
ineffectual both the one and the other are, when reformation of
manners is the point in question. The example of Plato, who
with all the credit and esteem which his philosophy had procure
him in the world, could not prevail upon one town or village
live after his maxims, and be governed by his laws, demonstrativ
shows, that St. Peter proceeded upon principles infinitely more
exalted, when he brought kingdoms and provinces under the obe-
dience of the gospel.

The faith was not planted by force or violence ; for, the first
admonition which the disciples received from their Master, was,
that " he sent them forth as lambs among wolves ;" (Luke xix. ;)
and so well they understood it, that, without resistance, they let
themselves be slaughtered like innocent victims. Mahoinetanism
was established by conquests and arms; heresy, by rebellion
against lawful power ; the law alone of Jesus by patience and
humility. It was neither the mildness of this law, nor the relaxa-
tion of morals, that occasioned its progress; for in this law, how
reasonable soever, there is nothing but what is humiliating for the
mind, and mortifying for the body. It is easy to conceive how
paganism should spread in the wc rid without miracles, as it coun-
tenanced the indulgence of all the passions, and authorised vices
of every kind, and as nothing is more natural to the human heart
than to close with these ways. But how is it conceivable, that
a law winch commands us to love our enemies, and to hate our-
selves, should meet with so many, and such strenuous abettors ?
Caprice, in this, can have no share ; for caprice, how blind soever
it be, could never induce the heart of man to forego revenge, to
renounce pleasures, and to crucify the flesh. The conclusion is
evident : that a God only as powerful as ours, could so happily
conduct, and crown with success, so great an undertaking ; and
that, therefore, Christ Jesus, the oracle of truth, had reason to
infer, though he spake in its favour, that " it was the Lord's doing,
and was wonderful in our eyes."

ON THE CHRISTIAN RELIGION. 145

1st. I said that this miracle greatly surpassed all other miracles.
And can it be called in question ? If (according to the opinion
of St. Gregory pope,) the particular conversion of an inveterate
sinner is of greater estimation in the presence of God, and, in that
sense, is more miraculous than the resurrection of the dead, how
shall we estimate the conversion of so many avIio were educated,
and, as it were, engrafted in idolatry ? But to make this compa-
rison still more intelligible : there are in the world, nay, in the
Christian world, men, at this day, devoid of religion. You know
it well ; atheists in belief, and in manners too ; so confirmed in
perversity, that all the miracles which have ever been wrought,
would scarcely reclaim them. Perhaps your intercourse and con-
nexions with them are but too frequent. How great an effect,
therefore, of the Almighty's arm, and what a miracle was requisite
to gain over to Christ, a number almost infinite, I do not say of
such libertines, but of libertines more obstinate in a high degree,
and more determined to impugn the grounds of conversion, whose
change, nevertheless, hath been the glory and honour of the Chris-
tian religion ! What would you say — (this will put my meaning
in a clearer light, and will convince you of what I call a miracle
that exceeds the very notion of a miracle) — what would you say,
if, by virtue of the sacred word which I am preaching, some incre-
dulous person, of whose return to God you despair for evermore,
were converted in your presence ; so that, renouncing his liber-
tinism, he should declare himself openly, and all at once, and should
actually begin to live like a Christian ? What would you say, if,
constantly inflexible for many years together, he withdrew from
this audience, deeply penetrated with a holy compunction, and
resolved to repair, by a holy repentance, the scandal of his deism ?
Could any miracle affect you more ? Now I say that this miracle,
which, perhaps, might affect you, but would certainly surprise you,
is precisely that which hath a thousand and a thousand times been
seen in the Christian world ; and that one of the most ordinary
triumphs of our religion hath been to subdue these haughty, obdu-
rate, refractory spirits ; to compel them to return into the way of
the Lord, and to make them tractable, pliant, and submissive as
tender babes ; that it began by these means, and that, notwith-
standing the united powers of darkness, even in these our days, it
gives us illustrious examples, when it pleases the Lord, whose arm
is not shortened, to lay open the treasures of his holy grace, and

146 ON THE CHRISTIAN RELIGION.

therewith to replenish these vessels of mercy, whom he hath pre-
destinated to enjoy his glory. Recent examples there are of this
kind, which we have seen and admired. And oy this alone, do I
not adduce a more cogent argument, than if I had entered into a
long detail of so many miracles, which take up so much of our
sacred histories, and we find are authorized by constant tradition ?
2ndly. I added (and this appears still more convictive) that this
miracle necessarily presupposes all other miracles. For, in short,
(says St. Chrysostom, and after him St. Thomas, in his summa
against the Gentiles, what could have induced the primitive Chris-
tians to embrace a law, odious, according to all worldly maxims,
and repugnant to the dictates of flesh and blood ? The apostate
Julian reproached the apostles with levity and credulity, pretend-
ing that their attachment to the Son of God was not found in
reason. But to judge in that manner (replies St. Chrysostom)
must not one be equal in wickedness to Julian ? For was it levity
to follow, and adhere to a man, who, as a pledge of his promise,
gave sight before their eyes, to " the blind from their birth," and
restored to life " the dead of four days ?" Being so mistrustful
and selfish as they were, and as the gospel informs us, would they
have quitted all to follow Christ, if they could in the least have
supposed or suspected that his miracles were fictitious ? How
could they behold them, and not believe in him ? After so shame-
fully abandoning him in his passion, after being scandalized in him
so as to renounce him, would they have returned to the charge,
and declared in his favour more openly than ever, if the miracle of
his resurrection, so authentic and undeniable (as St. Jerom speaks,)
had not now revived their fallen faith ? Would they have gone
with pleasure to dungeons and torments ; have cheerfully under-
gone crucifixions and the lashes of scorpion whips, have been the
confessors and martyrs of this glorious resurrection, if the strongest
evidence of such a miracle had not dissipated all their doubts ?

How was St. Paul transformed, in a moment, from a persecutor
of the church to a preacher of the gospel ? Could this miracle
have been wrought without another ? Would this man, so zealous
a defender of the Jewish law, so passionately fond of the traditions
of his fathers, ever have deserted them, to be the disciple of a
sect, whose downfall and ruin he had undertaken, if God on a
sudden had not thrown him on the ground, in his way to Damas-
cus, filled him with dismay, and inspired his heart with new

ON THE CHRISTIAN RELIGION. 147

sentiments ? Did lie not acknowledge, himself, in the synagogue,
that he owed his conversion to the fear he was in of being rebel-
lions to the light which surrounded him on all sides, and to the
terrifying voice with which he was thunderstruck ? " Saul, Said,
why persecutest thou me ?" And did he not conceive from that
very moment, an ardent desire of laying down his life, and of
undergoing hardships of every kind for the glory of that Jesus
whose enemy he had been ? Was it simplicity ? Was it preju-
dice ? Was it worldly interest ? But is it not certain, that St.
Paul's disposition was entirely otherwise, and that breathing,
nothing at that very time but blood and carnage, he could not be
withdrawn from the ancient law, of which he was one of the prin-
cipal pillars, nor brought over to the new, winch he meant to
destroy, by any other means, than the miraculous impulse, and
divine effort, which struck him to the ground, and bore him away ?

We read of St. Peter, not without astonishment, that the very
first time he preached to the Jews, he converted to the faith, three
thousand men. But what should surprise us ? cries St. Augustin.
They saw a poor fisherman, void till that time of every kind of
knowledge, save that of liis business, in a masterly manner explain
the most sublime and abstruse mysteries of the kingdom of God,
speak all sorts of languages, and make himself understood, at the
same instant, to as many nations as a great ceremony had assembled
from every corner of the world. This great miracle St. Luke
hath related, and at a time, too, when he could not have had the
effrontery to publish it, if it had not been true beyond all dispute,
as he would have had against him, not one or two witnesses, but
the whole earth ; for, such an imposture w^ould have lost him all
credit, and would only have served to put down the religion of
which he thereby designed to make known the excellence and
holiness. Admitting, I say, the authenticity of this miracle, is it
strange that so many Jews were converted ? And it is not more
surprising, that any there should be among them so blind, so per-
verse and headstrong, as to remain hardened in their incredulity ?

It is with some difficulty we comprehend the extraordinary and
almost innumerable miracles which St. Paid wrought among the
Gentiles ; but in preaching to the Gentiles, did he not, as the
mark and seal of Iris apostleship, add illustrious miracles ? Was
not tins the testimony he bore to them, himself, writing to the
Corinthians, and beseeching them to call to mind the wonderful

148 ON THE CHRISTIAN RELIGION.

works he had performed among them ? If all these had been
counterfeit miracles, would he have had the assurance to speak in
this strain ? Would he have appealed to themselves, and have
called them to witness ? Would he not have exposed, by such
manifest forgery, his ministry to discredit, and have frustrated the
plan which he meant to pursue ?

What induced St. Augustin to adhere so closely to the Catholic
church ? Did he not confess that it was, in great part, the power
of miracles ? What needed he more than those which he had
seen with his own eyes ? Than the famous miracle which was
wrought at Carthage in his own time, in the person of a Christian,
suddenly and supernaturally restored to health, by the intercession
of St. Stephen, at which this great saint protests he was present,
and of which he hath left us, in his excellent book of the " City of
God," an account ? What though his faith had till then been
wavering, would not this alone have been sufficient to corroborate
and settle it for ever ? Shall we say that St. Augustin was a
weak man, and that he fancied he saw what he did not see ? Shall
Ave call him a cheat, who imposed upon the world b}^ a fabulous
narrative ? But as neither supposition can be reasonably adopted,
must we not conclude with Vicentius Liriensis, that as the mira-
cle oi our religion helped to convert the world, so the conversion
. cue world is one of the most infallible and strongest proofs of
the miracles of our religion.

ordly. And here, Christians, we cannot too much admire the
wisdom of the great Creator, who doth not oblige us to believe in
miracles which are above reason. For, in our regard, the conver-
sion of the world, founded in so many other miracles, is an eternal
miracle, a miracle which justifies all other miracles, of which it is
only the consequence and effect. And for this reason, we may say
to the Almighty, with Richard of St. Victor, "Lord, if Ave
believe erroneously, we are deceived by you." Yes, my God, if
we were in error, we should have a right to impute it to you ;
and howeA^er you be God, Ave might make you responsible for all
our aberrations, because religion is raised on a foundation that
could only have been laid by you ; because this religion in Avhich
Ave liATe, to say nothing of its holiness and irreprehensible purity,
is confirmed by miracle:, Avhich can be attributed to you, and to
no other cause.

True, my brethren : but likeAvise these miracles will put us to

ON THE CHRISTIAN RELIGION 149

confusion at the judgment of God ; and in a particular manner the
mighty miracle of the conversion of the world to the faith of Christ
Jesus. These pagans, these idolaters, enrolled among the faithful,
will rise up against us, and will become our accusers : " The men
of Nineve shall rise up in judgment." And what will they allege
to our condemnation ? Ah ! Christians, what will they not allege ?
And what ought we not ourselves to allege against ourselves ?
Indeed, if we bring ourselves, in any degree, to a reasonable
account, it must needs be, I do not say shameful, but terrible for
us, in the presence of God, that this faith should have given rise,
throughout the world, to such admirable virt1 ie3 and should now
be among us so feeble and drowsy ; that it should have produced,
in corrupt paganism, so much godliness, and perhaps have as yet
caused in us no change, no return to God, no renunciation of sinful
practices. If our minds be illumined with the least ray of light,
ought we not to tremble, to shudder at the thought, that this same
faith hath been settled so successfully all over the earth, and is not
as yet thoroughly settled in our hearts ? We profess it in words,
we give outward signs of it, we are Christians in all that concerns
ceremony and external worship, but are we so in heart ? And yet
it is particularly in the heart that faith must fix her abode, in order
to come forth and quicken our works.

W hat a galling reproach (if we have not stifled every senti-
ment which grace is wont to inspire) that faith hath surmounted
all human power conspired against her, and hath not removed the
insignificant obstacles that obstruct our conversion ! For, what
stops our progress ? A foolish passion, a sordid lucre, a point of
honour, a fleeting pleasure, difficulties magnified in the mirror of
imagination, which our faith, though victorious, is unable to con-
quer. With how great reason should I own my fault, if I did
but consider in the presence of God, and in the bitterness of my
soul, that this same faith shoidd stand her ground, and even gather
strength, amidst bloody persecutions, and that I made her every
day vail to trivial persecutions, which the world raises against
her in my person : that is, to a word, to a jest, to a worldly con-
sideration, or, rather, should I say, to my own weakness and
pusillanimity ? For here lies my guilt, here lies my shame. Had
I but the courage to declare myself openly, and disregard the
world, long since had I been addicted to the service of God. But
inasmuch as I stand in awe of the world, and cannot resolve to

150 ON THE CHRISTIAN RELIGION.

give it displeasure, I there stop short, find, against my inclination,
keep my faith captive, and suffer her to languish in the bondage
of sin.

Ah ! my God, what answer shall I make when you show me that
this faith, which disproved the errors of idolatry and superstition,
could not rid my mind of I know not how many erroneous prin-
ciples and maxims with which I am prepossessed ? What shall I
alleo-e in my own behalf when you show me that this faith, which
brought down and subjected the pride of the Cresars to the humi-
lity of the cross, could not tear from my heart that worldly vanity,
that secret ambition, that love of myself, which hath been my
destruction ? What, in short, shall I say to you, when you show
me that this faith, which sanctified the world, could not sanctify a
certain world within me, a world more pernicious than the great
one that surrounds me ? Shall I have wherewithal to sustain the
weight of these accusations ? Shall I throw it upon you, O Lord ?
Shall I arraign Faith ? Shall I say that she made not sufficient
impression, and that I wanted conviction to be sufficiently affected ?
Ah ! Christians, perhaps our infidelity is risen to that pitch as to
try to gain credit by this pretext. But this pretext it is that will
make our guilt more palpable : for, . the very infidelity into which
we are fallen, God will place before us, as a prodigy we have
opposed to the miracle of faith ; a prodigy which comes not from
God, but from ourselves, and which I am going to enlarge upon in
the second part.

Part II. To be an infidel without ever having had any know-
ledge of the Christian religion, is a case, how dreadful and deplo-
rable soever, in which there is nothing, if rightly considered, sur-
prising or prodigious. Thus (says St. Chrysostom) infidelity in a
pagan may be blindness of mind, a criminal blindness ; but it cannot
at all times be said that this blindness, though criminal, is a pro-
digy. To conceive, therefore, rightly the prodigy of infidelity,
we must imagine it in a Christian, who, according to the various
irregularities into which he hath fallen, either renounces his faith,
or corrupts his faith, or belies and contradicts his faith ; renounces
his faith, by a licentiousness of belief, which makes him refuse to
submit his understanding, and which fixes in his mind by little and
little ; corrupts his faith, by a secret, or over attachment to hete-
rodox opinions that impugn it, and destroy its unity, purity, and
integrity ; belies and contradicts his faith, by irregular manners and

ON THE CHRISTIAN RELIGION. \5l

a vicious life, which bring upon it dishonour, reproach and scandal.
Three deviations these from rectitude, which in a perverted Chris-
tian have something I know not how monstrous in them, and which
I call, on that account, not merely irregularities, but prodigies of
irregularity. Three situations these in religion, in which to consi-
der only what may, and what ought to pass for an evident prodigy,
man affords the Deity unquestionable reason for his condemnation.
Bend all your mind to these three reflections.

1st. To begin with that which is most scandalous, the licen-
tiousness of belief, which grows upon them into custom, and the
nature of which is to renounce the faith. Is it not astonishing,
beloved Christians, that persons brought up in the centre of Chris-
tianity, persons who prize themselves, in other respects, for the
extent of their capacity, and the prudence of their conduct, should
lay aside all religion, and inwardly withdraw from the precepts of
faith, without any possibility of assigning one reason, I do not say
absolutely solid and convincing, but even capable to satisfy their
own understandings ? Is it not inconceivable, that, without exami-
nation, without knowledge of the matter, through warmth of
temper, through passion, through levity, through vain ostentation,
shameful attachment to infamous pleasures, with less wisdom than
thoughtless children, in an affair, too, of the greatest moment, an
affair which regards their eternal lot, they should quit that faith,
of which they have received the character by baptism, and in virtue
of which they bear the name of Christian ; that faith so necessary,
supposing the truth of it, and to which they allow salvation is
annexed ; that faith, by which alone, as they are well apprised,
they can hope to find grace, if there be any room for them to hope
for grace ; that faith, according to the quality of which they grant
their eternity will hereafter be decreed, if ever they should hear
the decrees of God ? Can this be imagined ? Such, however, is
the woful disposition of almost all the libertines of the age.
Observe, and you shall view them in this portrait.

Should anyone among them, upon mature deliberation, after long
application, all things considered, and weighed in as exact scales
as possible, take up a resolution to relinquish the faith, I should
deplore his misfortune, and should think it the most terrible ven-
geance which God could pour out upon him, as he never punishes,
according to the scriptures, with greater severity, than when he
permits the heart of man to fall into blindness : " Blind the heart

152 ON THE CHRISTIAN RELIGION.

heart of this people." Isaiah vi. But still in all this there would
be nothing prodigious. In his veiy blindness there would be some
vestiges of candour and uprightness, which would make him pitia-
ble, if not pardonable. But they whom I address (and in this
number I comprehend almost all the freethinkers of these times,
in the midst of whom, and with whom we live) are convinced suf-
ficiently, that they did not arrive at the summit of libertinism by such
means, and that their resolution to renounce the faith derived from
motives of a different nature. And besides (give me leave to make
this remark) how criminal and how inexcusable soever they may
be, I can find them a resource and a kind of consolation, as men
more easily return from libertinism founded in no principle, than
from one which proceeds, by false reasoning, from a particular
opinion, and a positive and consummate want of religion. But be
that as it may, the kind of infidelity which I am now impugning,
and which seems the most general, must own that it labours under
this difficulty : that it is evidently rash, and destitute of proof.
For, ask a libertine why he ceases to believe what he once believed,
and you soon will find, that in what he alleges in his own defence,
there is not the shadow or appearance of solidity. Ask him, whether
by strength of reasoning he hath found a demonstration against
the infallible revelation to which he had submitted. Oblige him
to tell you with frankness, if ever he examined the matter : if ever
he sought the truth with a candid and pure intention, and took
proper measures to come to the knowledge of it ; if ever lie com-
muned with, and consulted persons capable to undeceive him, and
resolve his doubts ; if ever he read what the fathers have written
upon religious topics, which he cannot relish, because he doth not
understand them, nor makes it his business to weigh their argu-
ments ; if ever he seriously attempted to dive to the bottom of diffi-
culties ; in a word, if he always did all those things which every
judicious and prudent man, in the like conjuncture, ought to do,
in order to receive instruction, and clear up these points. Let him
be interrogated upon each particular, and let him give you his
answer without reserve. He will own that he never took so much
pains, nor made so much inquiry. All this, however, he ougl: ': to
have done, before he ventured to take so bold; so dangerous a step,
as that of withdrawing from obedience to the faith. And yet,
Christians, he withdrew from it, and withdrew, too, at a much
more easy and compendious rate. He took the resolution, at the

ON THE CHRISTIAN RELIGION. 153

risk of whatever might be the consequence, to believe no longer,
without conviction, nay, without reflection ; without ascertainment,
or any fixed rule, how far to proceed in the dreadful gulf into
which he plunged. This I call a prodigy : and tell me, is it not
every day accomplished in numberless worldlings ?

But you will object : as this libertinism results not from reason,
by what other means can a Christian be perverted to that degree
as to become an unbeliever ? Ah ! beloved hearers, I say it again,
his perversion arises from a thousand circumstances, directly con-
trary to a wise conduct and the rules of prudence, but which I
take to be the greater prodigies, as they run counter to and clash
with reason. A prodigy of infidelity : he renounces his faith — and
(and here I shall adduce no proof but that of your own experience,
your own knowledge of the world) he renounces his faith through
a spirit of singularity, to have the ridiculous advantage and satis-
faction of thinking differently from other men, of saying what no
one ever said before, of contradicting what all the world allows ;
to represent a religion to himself as he lists, a God after his mind,
a Providence just such as he would have it to be : forming chime-
rical systems, which he raises up or pulls down, according as the
present humour affects him ; following blindly his extravagant
ideas, and thereby not well knowing either what he believes, or
believes not ; rejecting to-day what he yesterday maintained, and
perpetually, in the view of opposing God, at cross-purposes with
his own understanding. A prodigy of infidelity : he renounces
his faith through a sentiment of pride, fantastic pride, disdaining
to submit his short-sighted reason to the word of God, though he
deem it a virtue, and even finds it necessary, to submit it every
day to the words of men : confessing, in many temporal affairs,
that he stands in need of being governed by another, but vainly
pretending, that in his researches for eternal truths, he is clear-
sighted enough to regulate his conduct ; humbly acknowledging
his insufficiency relatively to the least secrets of nature, and boldly
deciding in whatever regards the mysteries of God. A prodigy of
infidelity : he renounces his faith from the joint motives of con-
venience and despair, because it importunes him, interrupts his
pleasures, thwarts his designs, upbraids him with injustice, and is
the only means by which he can ^deaden the stings and remorses
that gall his heart. He chooses to be destitute of all faith, rather
than be actuated by a faith that would incessantly censure and con-

L

154 ON THE CHRISTIAN RELIGION.

demn him ; and by a strange depravation of reason, which is always
consequent to sinful courses, he believes things to be not what
they are, but what he could wish them, and what he imagines
it his interest they should be ; as if it depended on him
that they should be either one thing or the other, and that
truth and falsehood were to be determined by his affection. He
renounces his faith through prejudice, valuing himself upon this,
that he is not prepossessed with regard to all other things, though
particidarly so in religious matters ; taking no offence at the empty
figments and paradoxical opinions of a wildy presumptuous, new-
fangled philosophy, and naturally disposed to scrutinize and
censure, wdth critical nicety, the decisions of the church ; appre-
hending perpetually too great credulity, and never apprehending
too little belief; alleging, to exculpate himself on this head, that
simplicity is weakness, and not wiping off the imputation arising
from a still greater weakness, wilfulness ; in a word, avoiding, as
narrowness of mind, what would be equity with regard to faith,
and taking that for clearness and strength of understanding, which
I denominate obstinacy against faith. For, not to expatiate on
oilier kinds of libertinism, analogous to this, from what I have
said, you may conceive how libertinism makes daily progress, and
how faith loses ground.

The libertine not only abandons his faith, but, what should
appear to you still more strange, he abandons it against reason, and
in spite of reason ; and whereas, according to the sacred history,
the merit of Abraham consisted in believing even against faith,
and in hoping even against hope, the freethinker's crime is to be an
infidel even against reason, and a deserter of the faith even against
prudence. For, the faith Avhich we profess is grounded upon mo-
tives, which, considered separately, might well hold the place of a
weighty reason ; but which, united, and taken all collectively, irre-
fragably demonstrate that they have something in them exalted
and divine. And, in reality, they have appeared to be forcible, as
to affect and convince the chief personages of the world, What
doth the libertine do ? He steels his breast, and makes open oppo-
sition to all these motives. To instance only in that which I choose
for the groundwork of this discourse, and which is drawn from
miracles. He is told that God confirmed our faith by illustrious

miracles

The falsity, however, of these miracles, and the want
of veracity in all those witnesses who report them, and declare

ON THE CHIUSTIAN RELIGION. 155

they give ocular testimony, lie undertakes to prove. And as there
are some, among these miracles, that are evident and incontestible,
of which only I speak, and to which all preachers ought solely to
adhere ; miracles of the first and highest order, on which Christi-
anity is essentially founded ; miracles acknowledged by the very
enemies of the Christian faith, verified by all the proofs that render
facts authentic, and winch cannot be contradicted, without having
recourse to untenable suppositions ; (for example — that the evange-
lists were impostors and madmen : impostors, who agreed to lead
us into error, and madmen, who, in order to support their impos-
ture, delivered themselves up to the most cruel torments : that St.
Paul imagined falsely he was struck from heaven, and cast upon
the ground in his way to Damascus ; and that he knavishly imposed
upon, or rather that he jeered, the people of Corinth, when he bade
them call to mind the miraculous deeds he had wrought in their
presence : that St. Augustin must be a man of mean understand-
ing, to let himself, like others, be borne away by the tide of popular
error, when he imagined, and protested he had seen at tCarthage
that which in reality he had not seen) — as there are, I say, miracles
of this nature, and as the libertine is unable to elude the force of
them, otherwise than by such extravagant notions, he gives them
admission, however extravagant ; he adopts them, and that which
he would blush to say, he blushes not to think, and boldly gives
the lie to what is most holy and venerable in antiquity. Now, is
anything more deserving of the name of prodigy ? O my God, is
it then true, that impiety can pervert the heart of man to so great
a degree, and involve it, by estranging it from you and your ways,
in such horrible darkness ?

I should never have done, should I try to pursue so ample a
subject through all its parts, and discuss it minutely in its full
extent. I shall, therefore, say only a word or two of the second
prodigy : that is, of the corruption of faith by a secret concurrence,
or even public adherence, to the opposite errors, particularly heresy.

2ndly. Tertullian confesses it was beyond his power, whenever
he attempted it, to find out the depth of this abyss, and fathom the
unmeasurable judgment of God. And yet I affirm, that in this
abyss certain irregularities were not perceptible in the days of
Tertullian, which have been so glaring in these later ages. For,
without attempting to analyze heresy, which the fathers have re-
garded as a monster composed of whatever an ungovernable and

l2

156 ON THE CHRISTIAN RELIGION,

perverse mind is capable of producing, suffice it at present to
borrow the great reflection of a great cardinal : to wit, that among
so many, who, of late years, have corrupted the purity and inte-
grity of their faith, few there are, whose sincerity and uprightness
will plead their excuse, I don't say before God, but even before
men ; and consequently whose apostacy was not a kind of prodigy.
I should need no more than to set forth the heresy of the last
century, and what story relates of it. I should need no more than
to point out Catholics without number, who, following the crowd,
and carried away with the torrent, declared publicly for Calvin's
sect, some without knowing, or being at any pains to clear up dif-
ficulties and controverted points ; others, perhaps positively, con-
vinced and assured of its erroneous principles. How many of them
abhorred the doctrine of that heresiarch concerning reprobation, yet
listed under his banners, and were his zealous partisans ? But if
it should be urged : why then did they adhere to him ? Why !
Another prodigy this, Christians, and equally surprising. I should
give for answer, and the testimony of history would make good the
assertion, that in this procedure they were influenced by scanda-
lous and unjust motives : some by vexation, and hatred to the
church, and a general spirit of opposition to her sentiments ; per-
sons, who in the days of Anus would infallibly have heen Arians,
and in the time of Pelagius would certainly have been Pelagians i
others by a particular spleen and antipathy, impugning the truth
for no other reason, than because such truths were held by their
enemies ; and determined to defend it, if their supposed enemies
had undertaken to impugn it : some by interest, others by a factious
spirit ; some by curiosity, and to be thought of consequence ;
others by a wretched ambition to be seen at the head of a party :
the great, by policy, making it a reason of state ; the vulgar, by
necessity, as they depended on the great : the women, by a sordid
desire of appearing learned and penetrating : the men, by a com-
plaisance for them still more fond, so as to regulate, by such caprice,,
their religious observances : the little wits, by hopes of gaining
the reputation attached to novelty ; the men of geniu3 by fear of
incurring the ill-will, and of being exposed to the shafts and malice
of innovators. Friends were drawn in by friends, and neighbours
wrought upon by neighbours. The populace were induced by no
other reason than the general prevalence, and because all the world
went that way. Every one was directed by the impulse of passion.

ON THE CHRISTIAN RELIGION. 157

Are not these prodigies, nay, prodigies capable of staggering our
faith, if the prediction of the apostle, in so dangerous a temptation,
had not dissipated our fears, by warning us not only that all these
tilings would in time come to pass, but that they were necessary
for the separating of the elect of God from the reprobate : " There
must be heretics, that they who are approved may be made mani-
fest among you." 1 Cor. xi.

3rdly. But not to insist any longer on this, let us conclude,
Christians, with the last prodigy, which concerns ourselves, and
which is neither a renouncing to faith, nor a corruption of faith,
but a dreadful contrariety between our life and our faith. My
meaning is this : we are Christians by profession, and live like
pagans ; we have faith in theory, and in practice our conduct is
nothing but infidelity ; we have one mode of belief, and another
of action. In every other respect, our actions and affections are
conformable to our opinions and knowledge of things ; for we love
and hate, we slum and seek, we undergo and undertake, according
to the insight we have into them. In nothing but what concerns
the salvation of our souls do we act perversely. We shun what
we judge is our sovereign good, and we seek what we judge is our
sovereign evil. We profane the thing which we know to be
adorable, and idolize that which we heartily despise. We abhor
what would save us, and cherish what destroys us. Were we real,
and not merely nominal Christians, and lived agreeably to the faith
we profess, our life, it is true, would be a continual miracle, but
yet in that there would be nothing prodigious. Were we pagans
by profession, and destitute of faith, and lived in conformity to the
flesh and the senses, hoAvever lost we might be to all hope, in such
irregularity there would be nothing unnatural. But the prodigy
is, that we want no faith, yet live like infidels ; a prodigy which
the faithless will not admit, ridiculously pretending that life and
creed have an interchange of influence, and that we live as we
believe, and believe as we live, in order to attribute their irregular
demeanour to their want of conviction, and not to the perverse
disposition of their hearts. But to remove this error would be no
hard matter, as to possess faith, and to act against it, is not more
difficult than to possess reason, and to act against it. Now, is not
this, by their own confession, what they do every day ?

Ah! Christians, let us stop the progress of these prodigies.
Let us be consistent with ourselves. Let our morals and our faith

158 ON THE LAW OF CHRIST.

keep equal pace. Otherwise what have we not to fear on account
of this faith so profaned, this faith so scandalized, this faith so dis-
honoured ? Let us make it instrumental to a sincere repentance,
if we have forsaken its ways. Let us make it instrumental to our
perseverance, if we are already penitent, or have never swerved
from our pious resolutions. Let us go on with the help of these
divine lights, and let us not put them out by delivering ourselves
up to our blind passions, and carnal appetites ; for, nothing more
exposes us to lose the faith, than the indulging in a sensual and
voluptuous life. By these means it was, that thousands of repro-
bates lost it ; and by these means it is, that they still persist in
their libertine ways. Ah ! my Lord, you have many chastise-
ments in the treasures of your justice, by which you may inflict
due punishment for our trespasses. Strike, my God ! and if in your
wisdom you should find it necessary to afflict us with all temporal
calamities, pour your vengeance on our heads ; but preserve our
faith. Nor is this enough. Enliven and rouse this drooping faith,
this expiring faith, nay, this faith dead without good works. In
the same degree that it shall live in us, we shall live by it, and in
the end it will lead us to everlasting life.

SEKMON VIII.

For the Second Sunday in Lent ; or for the Feast of the Transfiguration of our

Lord, August 6. ,

ON THE LAW OF CHRIST.

;< TVJiile he yet spake, behold, a bright cloud over shadowed them,
and behold, a voice out of the cloud, which said: This is my
beloved Son, in zvhom lam well pleased : Hear ye him" Mat. xvii.

This is the mystery, beloved Christians, of which the apostle
speaks in his epistle to the Hebrews, where he tells them, that
" God who at sundry times and in divers manners, spake in times
past unto the fathers by the prophets, hath in these last days
spoken unto us by his Son." Heb. i. It is in the transfiguration
of our blessed Saviour, which is the subject of this day's gospel,
that this declaration of St. Paul is palpably verified. God
Almighty had given his law, of which the interpretation and pro-

ON THE LAW OF CHRIST. 15!)

mulgation were intrusted to Moses on Mount Sinai to mankind.
In process of time lie had raised up prophets to explain it to
the people, to let them know the precepts of it, to expos-
tulate with them on their having transgressed it, to make
them yield submission to it, and induce them, partly by threats
and partly by promises, to fulfil it. But neither Moses nor the
prophets were more than forerunners to God-made man ; and the
law which they published, was only a disposition to the holy and
new law, which the Redeemer of men was to bring into the world.
It was upon that account he appeared between Moses and Elias —
the one a lawgiver, the other a prophet, and appeared environed
all round with light. I say, it was to teach us, that all the figures
of the old law being now dissipated, and all the prophecies having
received a full and perfect explanation, no one henceforward,
except himself, deserves to be hearkened to, or can be our master.
Wherefore, Christians, let us hearken effectually to this new law-
giver, and let us obey the voice of heaven, that tells us, " Hear
ye him." In the view of inspiring you with this sentiment so just
and so necessary, I purpose this discourse for your instruction on
the Christian law.

When St. Paul says, that " it pleased God by the foolishness of
preaching to save them that believe," (1 Cor. i.) wo must not
imagine, that the Christian law contains anything dissonant to
true wisdom and right reason. For (as St. Jerom remarks) the
same apostle, after having spoken in that manner, declares, never-
theless, that his ministry requires he should " speak wisdom among
the perfect." Forasmuch as I hold, however unworthy, the same
place which the great teacher of the Gentiles held, and I preach
the same law which he preached to them, I have a right to tell
you, beloved Christians, as he told them, that the evangelical law,
of which I am speaking, is of all laws the most reasonable and
most wise : this is my first proposition. I stop not there, but in
order to engage your thoughts the more, I add further, that this
so wise and so reasonable a law, is, at the same time, of all the
laws, the most amiable and mild : this is my second proposition.
Thus the law of Christ ought to be considered in two points of
view ; in respect to the head, and in respect to the heart. In
respect to the head, it contains nothing undeserving of our esteem ;
in respect to the heart, it contains every thing deserving of our
love. In this manner I take upon me to encounter two false prin-

160 ON THE LAW OF CHRIST.

ciples which have been, at all times, adopted by the enemies of the

Christian religion, in order to make it equally contemptible and

invidious : contemptible, by making us believe that it clashes with

good sense, and the rules of prudence ; invidious, by representing

it as a law too difficult, and destitute of unction. Now with these

two errors it will be proper to contrast twro characteristics of the

gospel lawr — that of reason, and that of lenity.

'~ That it is a law in the highest degree reasonable, you shall see

in the first part.

_~ That it is a law in the highest degree amiable, you shall see in

the second.

These two important truths, I shall make the subject of your
attention.

Part I. To consider things as they are in themselves, and as
they regard that reasonable duty which subjects the creature to the
Creator, we are not allowed to carp at, or scan, or critically examine
the law which Jesus Christ brought down from heaven, and which
he came, himself, to publish to the world. For since the legisla-
tors of this world have it in their power to enact laws without
being responsible for what they do, and since their will and good
pleasure are authority sufficient to issue Gut orders, without being
accountable to the people for them, it is but just and reasonable
that we grant the same privilege, and render the same homage, to
him who is not only our legislator and Master, but our Saviour
and God. It imports us, therefore, to submit to this law, and not
subject it to our censure ; to observe its dictates with a perfect
fidelity, and not canvass it through a presumptuous curiosity.

Nevertheless, Christians, it hath so fallen out, that no law was
ever more criticised, and, by a necessary consequence, more op-
pugned, or more condemned, than the law of Christ ; and we may
say that of it which the divine Sphit say3, in Ecclesiastes, of the
world in general, that, God, it shoidd seem, by a particular provi-
dence, "gave the world over to their disputations." Eccles. iii.
For, this law, quite holy and venerable as it is, hath been, if I
may venture so to express myself, a standing problem in every
age,^ since its first institution. The pagans, and, even in the
Christian religion, libertines, led astray by the false fight of worldly
wisdom, have censured and condemned it, as too sublime, and
beyond the reach of human ability : that is, affecting, as it were,
an overstrained perfection, and beyond the limits prescribed by

ON THE LAW OF CHRIST. 161

reason. And, on the other hand, many among the heretics of old,
borne away by prejudices conceived in their own imaginations, have
objected to it, as too natural, and too human : that is, as leaving to
man too great liberty, and not carrying far enough the strict and
rigorous obligation of the precepts established therein. The former
have accused it of indiscretion, the latter of remissness. Some
(as St. Augustin reports) have complained, that it laid on its vota-
ries a chimerical and senseless obligation of disengaging from the
tilings of this world ; and, others, intoxicated with a rash presump-
tuous spirit of reformation, have reproached it with using too much
indulgence, and requiring too little. Now, beloved Christians,
what think ye should I conclude from all this ? Without diving
farther into the matter, I should conclude, that therefore the
Christian law is a just law, a law conformable to the universal rule
of God's Spirit, inasmuch as it steers a middle course between
these two extremes. For, whereas to deviate into the one, or the
other, is an inherent characteristic of the spirit of man, and
whereas the inherent characteristic of the Spirit of God (according
to the maxims of St. Gregory, pope,) is a wise moderation, it
follows, by a consequence almost infallible, that a law which men
have dared to condemn, at the same time, of excess and deficiency,
is exactly that which is perceived in the divine coalition of wisdom
and reason, a coalition that makes it what the royal Psalmist
denominates u the spotless law of the Lord."

And, indeed, (adds St. Augustin) — this is a very important
remark — if the law of Jesus Christ had been perfectly calculated
to the minds of the pagans, it would, as I may say, upon that very
account, have ceased to be reasonable ; and if libertines had ap-
proved of it, we ought to consider it as liable to suspicion, for that
it would have pleased, and still would please, men of vicious hearts
and corrupt morals. To be that which it ought to be, an irre-
proachable law, it is necessary that it should not coincide with their
taste ; and the very excess which they attributed to it is its justi-
fication. The same I say proportionably of heretical ringleaders,
prepossessed with false zeal, and actuated by pride. These would
have drawn into narrower limits a law already sufficiently con-
tracted. They undertook to reform (as Vicentius Liriensis rightly
observes) that by which they ought themselves to have been re-
formed ; and it was necessary, that the law of Christ, lest it should
be carried to a boundless severity, and that it might be circum-

162 ON THE LAW OF CHRIST.

scribed by a reasonable worship, by which it differs, and St. Paul
distinguishes it from all others, should not be submitted to their
notions, and that they should find deficiencies in it, to let us see
that there was no deficiency in it.

If it were my province only to make an apology for the duties of
Christianity, what I have now said might be deemed sufficient ;
and without saying more, I should think I had completely fulfilled
my engagement. But I proceed farther, and it behoves me, Chris-
tians, as much as possible, to put you in a condition of paying,
without contradiction or resistance, entire obedience to the divine
Master whom the God of heaven commands us to hear : " This is
my beloved son, hear ye hiin." It is proper you should be made
to entertain an affection and attachment to his law ; and to that
intent I shall endeavour to give you a clear and comprehensive
knowledge of it. Wherefore, I acknowledge that the law of
Christ is holy and perfect ; but I maintain, at the same time, that
this perfection is not overstrained, as the spirit of the world is
willing to insinuate. I acknowledge that it is moderate, holding
the right mean between two extremes, and as such, proportioned
to the weakness of man : but I maintain that in its moderation
there is nothing improper, as the spirit of heresy would gladly
persuade ns. Now these two verities, rightly conceived, engage
me efficaciously to practise this law; destroy all the prejudices
which libertinism or self-love might frame in my mind against this
law ; determine me to live like a good Christian, because nothing
appears to me more reasonable or upright than the institutes
of this law. What a crowTd of advantages, beloved Christians,
for you and for me, were we thoroughly possessed with these
sentiments !

1st. The law of Jesus Christ (says St. Chrysostom, treating
of the same subject) is perfect indeed ; but in such a manner, as
not to give umbrage to human prudence the most delicate ; and
to reject it as a law carried too far, is to do it an injury, and be
grossly ignorant of its intrinsic worth. Whether we consider the
obligation it imposes on all states in general, or the rules it lays
down for each in particular, it is ever impressed (if I may so speak)
with the seal of supreme reason that directs it, and gives evident
demonstration that it originates from the counsels of God himself.
For (continues St. Chrysostom) wThat is there so singular in the
Christian law, that sense the most refined ought not to approve of?

ON THE LAW OF CHRIST. 163

It obliges the Christian man to renounce himself, to mortify his
spirit, to crucify his flesh ; it requires that he stifle his irregular
passions, forego his interest, bear affronts and ill usage without
revenge, let his property be taken from him without reclaiming it ;
it commands him to do two things, to all appearance the most con-
tradictory, or at least the most paradoxical, one to hate his kins-
folks and friends, the other to love his persecutors and foes ; it
declares it a crime for him to seek riches and greatness ; a virtue
to be humble ; a beatitude to be poor ; a cause of joy to be perse-
cuted and afflicted : it prescribes rules for his thoughts and desires ;
it wills him on such and such occasions to pull out an eye, and cut
off a hand ; in a word, it reduces him even to the necessity of spilling
his blood, and of suffering death, nay, the most cruel death, when-
ever the honour of his religion requires it, and the point is, to prove
the reality of his faith. Now, beloved hearers, all this is reason-
able, and so reasonable, that if the gospel-law did not require it,
how interested soever I might be in the case, and how corrupted
soever might be my heart, I should hardly be able to refrain from
admiring the gospel-law. Let us come to particulars, and examine
them separately.

It is reasonable that I renounce myself. Of this I can entertain
no doubt, unless I am forgetful and quite ignorant of what I am.
For since I am nothing, of myself; but vanity and falsehood ; since
whatever is in me that is good, is foreign, and not my own ; since,
of myself, and in my own nature, I am made up of wretchedness,
intellectual darkness, passion, and irregularity, is it not consenta-
neous with sense and reason, that, seeing myself such, I should
conceive an abhorrence of myself, and disengage from myself?
And this is the interpretation of that great commandment of our
hTessed Saviour, " Let him deny himself." He doth not require
that I give up my real interest, or the real charity which I owe
myself, but inasmuch as there is a fictitious justice which I con-
found with the real ; a fictitious charity which flatters and seduces
me ; a fictitious interest which dazzles and ruins me ; and inasmuch
as all this is precisely that which I call myself; he requires that,
in order to get rid of all this, I get rid of myself, by renouncing
myself.

It is reasonable that I mortify the flesh, because, otherwise, it
would rebel against my reason, and against God himself; that I
captivate my senses, because, otherwise, the liberty which I should

164 ON THE LAW OF CHRIST.

allow them, would lay me open to a thousand temptations ; that
I chastise my body and bring it into captivity, because otherwise,
freed from the holy yoke of austerity, I should fall into a criminal
and shameful effeminacy.

It is reasonable that I be forbid to take revenge ; for, what
would be the consequence, if every one were allowed to satisfy his
resentments, and to what excess would a blind and precipitate
passion lead us ? It is reasonable not only that I forget injuries
already received, but, moreover, that I be ready to undergo fresh
ones ; and that in a thousand conjunctures, in which the weakness
of human nature would make me lose charity, if I obstinately per-
sisted in supporting my pretensions, and claiming my right to the
utmost extent of law and justice, I desist from my pretensions,
and give up my claim. The reason is, that charity is a good of a
superior order, and that I ought not to hazard it for any other ;
and that there is nothing which I ought not to sacrifice, in order
to preserve divine grace, which is inseparably connected with
the love of my neighbour. It is reasonable that this love of my
neighbour extend to my very enemies the most mortal ; since, to
say nothing of that greatness of soul, that heroical and Christian
greatness, which so nobly appears in the love of our enemy, and
in the services we render him, we are taught by faith, that this
man, though my enemy, is still my brother : and that I should
myself, were I God's enemy, expect that he would, in his good-
ness, grant me mercy and grace. For, why should I not forgive,
as I expect forgiveness from God for my offences ? It is reason-
able, which may seem at first view surprising, that 1 hate my
friends, my relations, and even those to whom I owe my life, when
those to whom I owe my life, or when those with whom I am
united by all the ties of blood and friendship, are lets and hinder-
ances to my salvation. For, reason then requires, that I keep
away from them, that I shun them, that I abhor them : "If any
one come to me, and hate not father and mother, he cannot be my
disciple." Lukexiv. A saying (says St. Gregory) which doth
not abolish the duty which children owe their parents, who, abu-
sing the power they have over their children, act the part of devils,
by leading them into the way of perdition. How then ! (says
Tertullian,) setting forth the propriety of this gospel maxim, the
Roman soldiery, to be incorporated into the army, were obliged
to make a kind of abjuration of father and mother to their com-

ON THE LAW OF CHRIST. 165

manders ; and this severity of ' discipline was considered as just and
necessary. If, therefore, Jesus Christ makes us yield obedience
to the same law, in certain conjunctures, namely, when the attach-
ment of a son to his father, of a wife to her husband, is incom-
patible with the interests of God, and the obedience due to him,
can we say that too much is required of us ?

But why pull out an eye ? Why cut off a hand ? Give the
answer yourself, oh divine Saviour, and in one word satisfy human
wisdom with respect to the harshness of this expression. It is, that
it were better (says he) enter into life with one eye, or one hand,
than be condemned eternally to the torment of fire : that day by
day, to the shame of God's servants, a man of the world, through
worldly wisdom, shall pull out an eye, shall cut off a hand, accord-
ing to the meaning of our blessed Saviour ; that is, shall tear him-
self from everything that is nearest and dearest to him, and with-
draw himself from everything he loves the most tenderly, in order
to avoid a scandal he apprehends may be hurtful to his fortune ;
that a woman of the world, whose conduct in life is still regulated
by the dictates of reason, shall not hesitate a moment to break off
an engagement, how tempting or profitable soever it may be, so
soon as she finds it may bring the least stain upon her reputation..
As though God had intended that the slaves of this world should
dictate a lesson to the children of light ; or rather, as though he
meant it as an apology for that precept of the gospel, " If thy eye
scandalize thee, pull it out."

This is not all. Why must our desires be considered as crimes,
and a lascivious look be reckoned adultery ? St. Jerom will in-
form you. The reason is, that Ave are not allowed to desire those
things which it is not allowable for us to seek ; and that any law
which suffers desires to go unpunished, is an imperfect law, fitter
to make hypocrites, than righteous men ; because it is impossible
to reform man, if his heart, in the first place, be not reformed.
Why is a state so mean and abject as that of poverty, raised to a
beatitude ? " Blessed are the poor in spirit." Form your judgment
of it by your own sentiments. The reason is, that involuntary
poverty is as much despised, as voluntary poverty, of which Jesus
Christ speaks, is respected. And, furthermore, experience clearly
shows us, that none enjoy happiness in this world but the poor in
spirit, as the ordinary spring of our vexation is, an eagerness for
the things of this life.

166 ON THE LAW OF CHRIST-

In fine — (and this is the capital point) — why must the weak
children of Adam, notwithstanding their weakness, be reduced to
the dreadful alternative, either of apostatizing and 'being anathe-
matized, or of enduring, at certain times of persecution, the most
rigorous martyrdom ? For in this it is, that the law of our God
may appear, to the wise ones of this world, overstrained in its prin-
ciples. It commands us, under pain of eternal damnation, to be
habitually disposed to suffer even death, rather than so much as
disguise our faith. Now is this (say you) reasonable ? And I
answer, can you doubt it ? And to be convinced of it, what more
is requisite, than the first principles of natural reason. The ques-
tion is asked : whether it be reasonable rather to expose ourselves
to certain death, than betray the faith we owe to God ? But give
me leave to ask, whether it be not reasonable, that a subject should
be ready rather to lose his life, than betray the fidelity he owes
his sovereign ? That a man of honour should be in a disposition,
rather to suffer everything, than commit a base perfidious deed ?
That a military gentleman should rather sacrifice his person on a
thousand dangerous occasions, like a victim always on the point of
being immolated, and of receiving the deadly blow, than fail in his
duty ? He not only thinks it agreeable to reason, but makes a
point of it, and places his glory in it. How then, my brethren,
(cries St. Augustin,) is it a folly to die a martyr to God, and a
virtue to die a martyr to the world ? Shall reasoning man find it
hard to own the obligation of the one, while he approves and autho-
rises the obligation of the other ? No, no, Christians ; there is
nothing in it that is not proof against the keenest censure. Let us
be but reasonable, and we shall avow, that the law of Christ is
more so than we are. Let us candidly submit to what reason dic-
tates, and nothing will seem harsh in the gospel-law. For if it
seem harsh, it is because it makes us submit to reason, and forbids
passion to interfere. Be pleased to take notice. I do not say that
the Christian law adds nothing to reason ; this is an error of the
Pelagians ; but I say it adds nothing that doth not perfect, that
doth not elucidate, that doth not purify and embellish reason ; and
that reason herself would have established it, had she been, of her-
self, clear-sighted enough to discover its excellence and utility.

I know, beloved hearers — (and thus I pass on to the second
verity, which, far from weakening, will corroborate and effectually
confirm the former) — I know, and grant, that there have been.

ON THE LAW OF CHRIST, 167

at all times, in the world, men of a particular cast, who, intoxi-
cated with their own chimerical notions, have carried this perfection
of the Christiandaw beyond its true bounds. Mind my meaning.
This is not unworthy of your reflection. I know (what St. Augus-
tin hath already observed) that the perfection of the gospel, not
rightly understood, and supported by a false, untoward zeal, hath
given occasion, in course of ages, to the most obstinate and ran-
corous heresies. And to descend to the particular kinds : I know
that from the first planting of the church, there have arisen sects
(as the apostle calls them) of the perfect and enlightened, of whom
some condemned matrimony, others the use of flesh-meat ; some
reiterated penance, others, the flying from persecution ; reprobating,
by their self-assumed authority, whatever seemed to them not
sufficiently holy ; and taking, to that end, upon them the business
not only of reformers, but of sovereigns and legislators. I know,
that one of the dreams of Pelagius was, to confound the counsels
with the precepts ; and to pretend, for instance, that without a real
and effective renunciation of all temporal property, there was no
salvation ; not admitting that a Christian was allowed to possess
anything, without a kind of apostatizing and belying his profession.
I know that some, upon this principle, have gone so far, as to cause
disturbance in civil society, charging with irregularity the estab-
lished custom of claiming one's right by due course of law. These
words they took to the letter, " Of him that taketh away thy
goods, ask them not again ;" (Luke vi. ;) and not foreseeing the
dreadful consequences that must follow from it, or the handle it
would give to rapacity and avarice, they forbade the Christian to
reclaim his property upon any score, no, though it were wrested
from his hands by violence. I say, I know all this ; and I likewise
know, that these wrong notions of Christian perfection have been
generally an occasion of the Christian law being despicable to pa-
gans, insupportable to libertines, and a scandal and cause of lapse
to wTeak and timorous minds : (another remark is this of St. Augus-
tin ;) despicable to pagans, who, forming by that their judgment
of our religion, have rejected it as extravagant, though the work
and master-piece of the wisdom of God : insupportable to libertines,
who are glad, in matters of obligation and duty, that things are
exaggerated, as it gives them a pretext to believe nothing of all it
teaches, and more especially to do nothing of all it prescribes, and
to hold that too much is required of them, as it affords them an

168 ON THE LAW OF CHRIST.

opportunity of refusing all : a scandal and a cause of lapse to weak
and timorous minds, who from these errors have regulated their
consciences, and whom their wrong consciences h|ve made to com-
mit many crimes. For, these are the effects of this supposed per-
fection, when not commensurate with the rules of faith. But all
this, beloved Christians, is not the perfection of the Christian law,
because there is nothiug in all this which the Christian law hath
not disavowed, and even stigmatized. As it hath protested against
all the mitigation that could hurt its purity, so it could not suffer
the severity of its maxims, in order to give it a false varnish and
gloss of holiness, to be carried too far. Whatever appearance of
reformation it might have observed in heresy, it adhered inviolably
to this great rule, " a reasonable submission ;" (Rom. xii. ;) to the
intent (says St. Jerom) that the keenest infidel might have
nothing to object to it, and that the most refined reasoner should
find nothing in it to leave him dissatisfied.

For let us but attentively consider this law, and the farther we
dive into it, the wiser it will appear, whether it restrains our plea-
sures, or allows certain commendable and moderate recreations ;
whether it condemns our undertakings, or permits certain rational,
and often necessary cares ; whether it curbs our ambition, or leaves
us the liberty to think of ourselves, and seek, by lawful means, a
settlement in the world ; whether it blames our luxury, or approves
of a Christian decency and becoming appearance : we shall discover
throughout the same admirable characteristics of wisdom. It is,
therefore, perfect ; but in such a manner, that its perfection gains
the heart by convincing the head ; accommodates itself to all states
and conditions in life ; far from causing disturbance or trouble,
regulates everything, amends everything, preserves everything in
good order ; inspires humility without meanness, generosity with-
out pride, liberty without licentiousness ; keeps all the motions
and affections of the soul in a proper equipoise ; in a word, the law
is perfect, and therefore cannot exceed the extent of these two
words — prudence and truth.

2ndly. I must observe, moreover- that as by a disposition of the
divine Providence, there is nothing overstrained in its perfection,
so there is nothing mean in its moderation. What occasion would
there be to insist on this point, if we did not live in an age in which
the word of God must be a preservative for everything — against
everything ? No ; the law of Christ is moderate without mean-

ON THE LAW OF CHRIST. 169

ness. Whatever endeavours the ring-leaders of heresy may have
used to decry it in this respect, it hath clearly shown the purity of
its tenets, and hath made their attacks conducive to its glory. In
vain did Tertullian reproach it with indulgence in the forgiving
of sins ; in vain did he declaim against the Catholics of his time,
and styled them, " carnal ;" in vain did he represent the church as
a field laid open to every kind of licentiousness : his invectives
served only to show the asperity and bitterness of his zeal, and
made no impression, save on the minds of some weak persons.
True it is, that the Christian law drives no sinners to despair ; but
without driving them to despair, it inspires them with a fear
much more salutary than despair ; and without making any dimi-
nution in their confidence, checks their presumption. True it is,
that it makes not damnation the eternal consequence of every trans-
gression ; but it doth not fail, on a thousand occasions, to lay open
the danger in a manner capable to strike the saints themselves
with terror. True it is, that it makes not every sin deserving of
eternal pains ; but it raises a horror even of offences the most
venial, in the breast of every one that loves God, and is tho-
roughly desirous of salvation. True it is, that it makes a distinc-
tion between precepts and counsels ; but at the same times declares,
that a contempt of the counsels is an immediate disposition to a
transgression of the precepts, and that one is an almost infallible
consequence of the other.

Now, I own, Christians, that of all the motives winch display
the truth of the holy religion I profess, this is one of the most
powerful. St. Augustin said, that a thousand reasons attached
him to the faith ; and he drew them up in such a manner, as might
convince the most refractory spirit. But to me it appears, that
this wisdom, so pure and divine, of the Christian law, hath I know
not what in it particularly affecting ; for I say, with Abbe Rupert :
as there is a God, and his existence is ascertained by proofs the
most palpable, and the most evident ; and as our duty obliges us
to honour this God by a peculiar worship, and an exercise of reli-
gion, I cannot be mistaken in embracing this religion, in which I
discover a large store of wisdom and holiness, that cannot come
but from above, and is incontestably superior to man. If it were
a worldly wisdom, it might dazzle me : but were I but ever so
little careful to scrutinize it, and acquire a competent knowledge
of it, I should soon find out one weakness or other that would un-

M

170 ON THE LAW OF CHRIST.

deceive me. There is but one religion wise like ours, that is, of
which the wisdom is holy, of which the wisdom is fixed on the
basis of all virtues, to which I must vail, because it is undoubtedly
the work of God, and nothing can be brought in opposition to it.
I cry out with more reason than St. Peter, " Lord, it is good for
us to be here." Ah ! my Lord, it is happy for me, a happiness I
cannot sufficiently esteem, to have known your law and to have
embraced it. To this I must adhere ; and that I may never de-
viate from it, I must be ready, like your martyrs, to sacrifice my
fortune, and spill my blood. " Lord, it is good for us to be here.'*
St. Peter begged leave, in a transport of joy, to remain on Mount
Thabor ; but because in begging it, he had only a temporal happi-
ness in view, and not the never-ending blessedness of the life to
come, the evangelist adds, that "he knew not what he said."
Luke ix. For my own part, my God, I perfectly comprehend
what I say ; and it is owing to the thorough knowledge I have of
it, that I earnestly beseech I may always remain steady and un-
shaken in obedience to, and the practise of, your law. "Lord, it
is good for us to be here." In following it, I fear not, I shall go
astray, for that of all laws it is the most reasonable and wise in its
maxims, as it is the most amiable and mild by its unction ; and
this I shall make appear in the second part.

Part II. The greatness of God imports a sovereign right of
commanding men to do great things, and likewise of requiring
great services of them ; but it likewise imports, that the great ser-
vices wdiich it requires, not only shall not overwhelm them with
the heavy weight of their difficulties, but shall become pleasing,
and even comfortable. For (as the learned Cossiodorus speaks)
the glory of a master, so great as God, is to be served in such a
manner, as that the very obligation of serving him shall become a
blessing and happiness. Those who have endeavoured to explain,
according to their own notions, the law of Christ, have run into
error, by adhering too closely to one of these principles, without
sufficiently attending to the other. It is true, Jesus Christ, our
supreme Lawgiver, hath proposed his law to us as a yoke and a
burden ; but at the same time tells us, that this burden is light,
and this yoke easy. Matt. xi. How comes it, that by an admi-
rable contrivance of his wisdom, he hath only invited those to take
upon them his yoke and burden, who, from other cause?, were
already loaded and fatigued, promising to relieve them, and never-

ON THE LAW OF CHRIST. 171

theless promising no other relief, than that of laying on them his
yoke and burden ? " Come unto me, all ye who labour, and I will
refresh you." Matt. xi. It is a mystery, which seems, at first
view, to imply an impossibility, and a contradiction ; but the truth
of it appears from the fulfilling of it. It is a mystery confirmed
by the constant experience of all the righteous, and even of all the
wicked, as nothing is more capable to relieve a sinner, loaded with
the heavy weight of his crimes, and wearied with the galling sla-
very of the world, than to take the yoke of Christ upon him, and
thoroughly submit to it.

In order, therefore, to frame a comprehensive and clear notion
of the evangelic law, we must never separate these two things,
which it hath so holily and divinely united — the yoke and easiness.
And yet this separation men have made, who, prepossessed by
self-love, considered only the words, "yoke and burden ;" and in
order to have some pretext for their malevolence, not joining to
them that unction and ease which Jesus Christ hath added, have
represented to themselves the Christian law as a dismal, heavy, in-
supportable law, made only to mortify them, and by this means
have disgusted themselves and others too. Like those Israelites,
who, having discovered the land of promise, inspired the people
with a horror of it, by the frightful colours in which they painted
it. For their report was, that " the land through which they had
gone to search it, was a land that ate up the inhabitants thereof,
and that in it they had seen monsters." Num. xiii. No artifice
more dangerous and subtile than this hath the enemy of our salva-
tion put in practice, for the perdition of souls, and to render in
them all the seeds of Christianity ineffectual. But to employ it
against a Christian well instructed, and grounded in his religion,
and sincerely disposed to observe every point of the law to which he
professes obedience, would be labour lost. The reason is, that
such a person may guard against it easily by this thought, with
which his faith protects him ; that the more perfect the law of
God is, the more the unction which accompanies it, makes it ami-
able, and easy to be put in practice ; and whatever the flesh and
the world may suggest to him to the contrary, he will always recur
to this sentiment of David : " How sweet are thy words to my
taste !" Ps. cxiii. How sweet, O Lord, is your law to those who
have a relish of it ! And how gross and sensual must be the man
who hath no relish of it ! And, indeed, if David could speak in

m 2

172 ON THE LAW OF CHRIST.

this manner under a law so rigorous as that of Moses, it would be
not only a shame, but a crime, not to say as much of the Christian
law, inasmuch as it 4is a law of grace and charity. Be pleased
to observe, beloved Christians, these two qualities, which are essen-
tial to the law of Christ — it is a law of grace, and it is a law of
charity. This is what enables you to observe it, notwithstanding
all the difficulties of its duties, and what will make your excuses
void in the presence of God. Be pleased to take notice :

1st. It is a law of grace, by which Almighty God infallibly
affords us wherewithal to fulfil that which he commands us ; or,
rather, by which Almighty God himself fulfils in us that which
he requires. What would you have more ? That which hinders
you from fulfilling the law, and even makes you despair of ever
fulfilling it, is, you say, the vicious disposition of your heart, and
that flesh of sin which perpetually rebels against the Spirit. But
suppose, my brethren (replies St. Chrysostom,) that God should
apeak to you in this manner : O man, I will now take from you
that heart and will give you another ; your strength is that of a
man only, but I will impart to you that of a God. It is not you
alone that will act, that will combat, that will resist; I myself will
combat within you, will triumph over your evil inclination and
corrupt flesh. If God should speak to you in this manner, and
make you this offer, would you dare to complain ? Now in how
many parts of the inspired writings hath he made you this promise ?
Was it not to you he said by the mouth of the prophet Ezekiel,
I will take from you that obdurate heart, and I will replace it with
another, a docile heart, and submissive to my law ? Is it not an
article of divine faith, that this promise regarded those who were
to live under the law of grace ? And do not you live under the
law of grace, having been regenerated in the laver of life ? What
then should you fear ? That God will not be as good as his word ?
This were to call his faithfulness in question. That, notwith-
standing the word of God, you shall find it too hard to observe
his law ? This were to call his power in question.

Lord, (cries St. Augustin,) command what you please, provided
you give me that which you command : that is, provided you give
me strength by your grace to execute what you command by your
precept. Spare me not, O God ; regard not my delicacy, nor con-
sider what I am ; for as it is you that must conquer in me, it is in
you, not in myself, I must place my confidence. Exert, therefore,

ON THE LAW OF CHRIST. 173

your supreme dominion, load me with the whole weight of your
commandments, oblige me to undergo whatever my senses or my
self-love abhor most, make me walk through narrow and thorny
paths : with your holy grace I shall proceed cheerfully. I speak
of it (adds he) from personal experience. For, it was you, my
Lord, that broke my chains, and I wish to publish it, for the
interest of your glory, and the justification of your law, to all
mankind. You could do anything in me, and I could do anything,
assisted by you. With what felicity did I relinquish those shame-
ful pleasures, to which I had been so long a slave ! And how
pleasiug was it to abandon that which I once was in so much dread
of losing ! I fancied I saw in your law and in myself unconquer-
able monsters ; but so soon as my heart was touched with your
grace, I perceived they were only imaginary monsters ; and for
this reason, I take in the whole circle of your service, without
exception, and without reserve. Thus spoke St. Augustin : and
if such be the force of divine grace, with what face can we tell the
God of heaven that his yoke is oppressive and hard to bear?

But I have not the grace which upheld St. Augustin, and
induced him to act. Perhaps, Christians, you have it not ; but
do you put yourselves in a condition to have it ? Do you take
the measures requisite to obtain it ? Do you beg it of God ? Do
you seek it in the fountains in which he hath placed it, which are
the sacraments ? Do you clear your hearts of the bad weeds which
are an obstacle to its taking root ? Is it not strange, that though
you do nothing to facilitate the observance of this law, you still
should dare to complain of its difficulties, instead of imputing them
to yourselves, and to your want of resolution ? God, beloved hearers,
will put this criminal irresolution to shame, by removing the mis-
take which gave occasion to it, and which you made use of as a
pretext. For he will tell you with more reason than he told his
people : it is not the rigorous precepts of the law that can, or that
ought to plead your innocence ; the command I laid on you (this
is the purport of God's own words in the holy scriptures) was
above neither your reach, nor your strength. It is not placed in
the high heavens, so that you might say, who can aspire to it ?
Neither is it to be sought in a distant land, so that you might ask,
who can think of coming at it ? So far from it, it was close by you
— it was in your heart ; it was so to be found in your state of life,
that it might have been done with all ease. The reason is, that

174 ON THE LAW OF CHRIST.

my holy grace, at the same time, was annexed to it. Now God,
by these words, meant only to remove all our pretexts, when we
plead exemption from the observance of his law, and consider it
only in itself, and in a partial view, not considering the relics and
aids with which it abounds.

For, to say that these relics and aids are wanting at the very
time wre beg them ; to say that all the great promises which God
hath made us, showering down upon us the plenitude of his Spirit,
do not include wdiereAvithal to go through the performance of his
will with joy and comfort ; to say that the pre-eminence of the
law of grace over the written law is reduced to nothing, and that
the whole effect of the redemption and death of our blessed Saviour,
hath been to enhance the weight of his yoke, would be so many
blasphemies, beloved Christians, against the goodness and fidelity,
of God. In what then are we deficient ? In two things : a sincere
faith, and a lively hope ; the one, to make us adhere to God, the
other, to make us put our trust in him. For by uniting ourselves
with him in this manner, we should change our weakness, as the
prophet speaks, into invincible strength : " They who hope in
the Lord, shall change their strength ; shall take wings like eagles ;
shall fly, and shall not fail." Isai. xl. But because we keep at a
distance from him, we are always in a languishing, weak condition,
ever oppressed with disgust and melancholy, ever in low spirits
and despair ; as if the gospel of Christ were not a law of grace,
and the law of grace had not removed all obstacles and difficulties.

2ndly. What if I should say, that this law of grace is, moreover,
a law of charity and love, of which the proper effect is, to lenify
every thing, making them not only possible but easy, not only
supportable but agreeable ; and to take from the yoke its whole
weight, and, if I may venture so to speak, the heavier it is, make
it so much the lighter. A paradox which St. Augustin explains
by a very natural comparison, and which I may use, after that
father. You see the birds ; they have wings, of which they bear
the weight ; but the very thing of which they bear the weight, is
what makes them nimble, and the more weight they bear, the
nimbler they are. Take away, therefore, his wrings from a bird,
and you disburden him ; but by disburdening him, you put it out
of his power to fly. On the other hand, restore him his -wings ;
let him be but burdened with them afresh, and he will rise aloft.
The reason is, that while he bears his wings, his wings bear him.

ON THE LAW OF C UK I ST. 175

He carries them on the ground, and they cany him through the
air. Such (says St. Augustin) is the law of Christ. We carry
it, and it carries us : we cany it, by obeying it, and putting it in
practice ; but it carries us, by exciting us, strengthening us, and
encouraging us. Every other burden is a dead weight, but this
hath wings.

But to wave this figure, beloved Christians, and to speak more
home to the purpose. Almighty God, the supreme Creator, pos-
sessed three qualities with respect to his creatures : that of Master,
which subjected us to him in the quality of slaves ; that of Re-
warder, which brought us over to him in quality of mercenaries ;
and that of Father, which attaches us to him in quality of children.
Now according to these three qualities, (it is a reflection of St.
Bernard,) God Almighty hath delivered three statutes to mankind ;
one, of authority, as to his slaves ; another, of hope, as to his mer-
cenaries ; and another, of love, as to his children. The two first
were statutes of suffering, but the last was a statute of joy and
consolation. And the consequence was, (St. Augustin tells us,)
that men have groaned under these statutes of labour and fear,
which could not, however, induce them to love that which they
practised ; whereas Christians have found a relish in the law of
grace, that rendered it amiable, and an unction that made them
observe it with pleasure. Self-interested and covetous, under the
two first laws, men feared a God an avenger of their avarice ; but,
notwithstanding this fear, they ceased not to commit the most ini-
quitous violences, to deprive^ others of their property, or, if ability
failed, at least to covet them. Whereas in the new law, they have
been lovingly attached to God, assuming human nature, and
although he appeared poor in this world, yet for love of him, far
from appropriating that to themselves which did not belong to
them, they have distributed their fortunes among the poor, and
by a voluntary cession divested themselves of every thing.

The lovers of the world cannot comprehend this ; and yet they
might easily comprehend it by themselves, and by their own senti-
ments. They know not what we say, when we speak of the marvel-
lous effects of charity in the human heart ; but let them judge of
it by that which even the love of the world does in themselves.
To what law doth not the love of the world, which they idolize,
hold them in subjection ? Doth it not subject them to the law of
duty, which is just but painful ? To the law of sin, which is

176 ON THE LAW OF CHRIST. "

unjust and shameful ? To the law of custom, which is extravagant
and unaccountable ? To the law of worldly consideration, which is
cruel and tyrannous ? To the law of fashion, which is disgusting
and tiresome ? Nevertheless, because they love the world, what-
ever is in the service of the world most troublesome, most inconve-
nient, most disagreeable, most grating, become easy to them.
They find nothing hard, to satisfy the duties of the world, to con-
form to the customs of the world, to observe the fashions of the
world, to deserve the favour of the world. Now let them love
God, as they love the world ; let them, instead of adhering to the
world, adhere to God ; and the law of the Lord, which seems im-
practicable, will change its nature, if I may so speak with regard
to them. They will labour, it is true, but in their labour they
will find repose ; they will engage in combats, but in their combats
they will find peace ; they will renounce all things, but in their
renunciation they will find their treasure. They will endure every
thing, and mortify themselves in every thing ; but in their peni-
tence and mortification they will find their happiness.

Thus it is that the law of God is at the same time a yoke and a
relief, a burden and a support. If you call it in question, I appeal
not to the testimony of your own heart ; for, you cannot bear
Avitness to that of which you have no idea : I appeal to the testi-
mony of so many saints who have experienced it, and righteous
persons who do still experience it every day. How then ! Hath
not this law of charity turned ignominious chains into honourable
bands? Witness St. Peter and St. Paul. Hath it not given
irresistible attraction even to the cross? Witness St. Andrew.
Hath it not afforded refrigeration in the midst of flames ? Witness
St. Laurence. Doth it not work miracles without end before our
eyes ? Is it not this that makes so many virgins undergo cheerfully
all the austerities of the cloister ? Is it not this that engages so
many edifying penitents in a holy war against themselves, and
instructs them in the method of crucifying their flesh ? Is it not
this that makes evangelical poverty be preferred to riches ; obe-
dience, to liberty ; celibacy, to matrimony ; abstinence, fasts, hair-
cloths, flagellations, to all the ease and convenience of life ? Have
I mentioned anything, of which the world hath not afforded fre-
quent instances ? And are not these instances so many instructive
lessons for you ? If, therefore, (says St. Jerom,) the law seems
hard, you must lay the blame of it neither on the law, nor on the

ON THE CHRISTIANS CHARACTER. 177

difficulties which attend it, but on yourself, and on your indiffer-
ence to Almighty God. The law is hard for those who fear it,
and wish to enlarge the indulgence of it ; whom the Spirit of God,
that Spirit of grace, that Spirit of love, awakens not, enlivens not,
affects not, because they are unwilling to be affected by it. Let
us, however, be of good heart, and, with a holy desire of pleasing
God, let us enter the blessed way of his precepts : we shall walk
in it steadily, shall advance speedily, and shall come to the joys of
the kingdom of heaven.

SERMON IX

ON THE CHRISTIAN S CHARACTER.

" The Pharisees being met together ; Jesus asked them, saying :
What think ye of Christ f Matt. xxii.

If passion' had not blinded these pretended teachers of the divine
law, they might easily have answered the question which was put
them by the Son of God, and have discovered in his person all the
characteristic marks of the Christ, or Messiah, whom they had
long expected, and who was actually in their presence. Being
ocular witnesses to so many miracles, as when he calmed the fury
of the raging billows, cast out devils, gave health to the sick, raised
the dead to life, ought they not to have answered without hesita-
tion. Yourself is the Christ of whom you speak ? As for us,
beloved hearers, we acknowledge no other. And yet how im-
portant and necessary soever may be the knowledge of this God-
man, it is a subject (says St. Chrysostom) which the ministers of
the gospel should beware of fathoming too deeply in their dis-
courses, because it is impenetrable, and infinitely beyond as well
the reach of their mental knowledge, as oral expressions.
F Nevertheless, my brethren, we know him sufficiently to take him
for a model. Nay, (according to the doctrine of those great men,
St. Jerom and St. Augustin,) such is the relation between Christ
and a Christian, that they must, in some sort, be blended together,

178 ON THE CHRISTIAN'S CHARACTER.

as one without the other cannot be defined. So that if Christ
Jesus be not in the Christian verily and substantially, he is in him
by similitude ; and if the Christian be not really, and in the main
of his existence in Christ Jesus, he is in him by as true and perfect
a conformity as he can have to so excellent and divine an original.
Pursuant to this principle, without examining at present what the
Christ is, let us rather examine what the Christian is, the Christian
who is bound to be the true and faithful imitator of the Christ :
" What think ye ?" This subject will be more moral, more pro-
fitable, and more affecting. By it you will learn what you are, or
rather say, what you should be, and what you are not.

Whatever the meaning of St. Jerom might have been, to me it
appears, that in his proposition there is judgment and justness, when
he says, that to be really, and not seemingly, a Christian, is great.
And this is one reason which he alleges for it : that whereas
Christianity is a profession of humility, and whereas humility doth
not try to display its own excellence, it follows, that the greatness
of a Christian is, to be, and not seem to be, what he really is ; as
it often happens that his perfection consists, at least in part, in his
seeming not to be what he really is. This brings me naturally to
my design ; and in order to convey to you a distinct notion, and
impress you with an adequate idea of a Christian, I take it from
its principle and model, Christ Jesus, agreeably to two particular
characteristics which he attributes to himself, when speaking to the
Jews, to make himself known to them, he said, " I am not of this
world;" (John viii. ;) and again, "lam from above." John viii.
I come from heaven, and yet I remain immutably united with
God my Father. These two characteristics I purpose to lay
before you, which will delineate the Christian in the completest
manner. What, think ye, is a Christian ?

First : a man, by his profession, separated from the world.

Secondly : a man, by his profession, consecrated to God.

Both the one and the other, though of no significancy in the
eyes of men, are replete themselves with glory and virtue. For,
who is more insignificant in the eyes of men, than the man who
withdraws from the noise of the world ? But who hath more in-
ternal and latent virtues, than the man whose life is consecrated to
God ? Now this hidden mystery I take upon me to unfold. A
separation from the world, which raises the Christian above the
world, will be seen in the first part ; a consecration to God, which

ON THE CHRISTIAN'S CHARACTER. 179

raises the Christian up to God, will be seen in the second. This
shall be the division of the present discourse.

Part I. That you may the more easily comprehend my mean-
ing, and that my arguments may rest on the principles of theology,
relatively to the subject which I purpose to treat of, it ought to be
premised, that two things (according to St. Thomas) are essen-
tially requisite to make a true Christian : grace, or vocation, on the
part of God, and a faithful correspondence with this grace, or vo-
cation, on the part of man. Now both the one and the other,
considered attentively, have no characteristic more suitable and
more proper, than retirement from the world. So that to be
effectually separated from the world, is to be effectually a Chris-
tian. And this is the whole scope of this first part.

What is grace, I say the first of all graces, the call to Chris-
tianity ? Divines and the fathers have greatly exerted themselves,
and laboured hard, to give us a sublime and perfect idea of it.
But none, as 1 take it, is equally accurate and solid with St.
Augustin, when he tells us, in short, that it is the grace of voca-
tion. Would you wish to know, beloved brethren, (says this holy
doctor,) who are the elect, called like the apostle, according to the
decree, but the favourable decree of Almighty God? Those
whom he hath distinguished, whom he hath withdrawn from the
corrupt mass of the world ; whom he hath withdrawn by the
virtue and grace of their vocation. It is actually, therefore, in
this separation, that the attractive, the impulse, and the particular
impression of grace consists. Hence St. Paul,^ to express the
impulse gift of grace, which had been conferred on him in the
miraculous vocation which followed his conversion, a vocation
pregnant with the greatest prodigies, made use of no other terms
but these : " Who separated me from my mother's womb, rand
called me by his grace." Whatever I am, I am by the mercy of my
God who called me. And how hath he called me ? By separating
me from my mother's womb : that is, (according to the explication
of St. Ambrose,) by fixing upon me to live separate from the cor-
ruption of the world. Hence, as we read in the Acts of the
Apostles, when the Spirit of God diffused his visible and abundant
graces among Christ's disciples — graces that raised them to the
most sacred ministrations, it was always by ordering ^that those
whom he had chosen for that purpose/ should be separated from
the rest, nay, the rest of the faithful : " Separate me Saul and

180 "on the christian's character.

Barnabas," (Acts xiii.) for the important work to which I have
called them. As if this separation (subjoins St. Chrysostom) had
been a kind of sacrament, by which the grace of divine vocation
was to have been abundantly communicated to them. Hence it
arises, that the Saviour of the world, to signify that he was come
to call the sons of men to evangelical perfection, loudly de-
clared, that he was " come to separate a man from his father,
and the daughter from her mother ;" (Matt. x. ;) reducing
the whole grace of that perfection to this spirit only of se-
paration from the world. Hence the apostle, when he would
make us comprehend the transcendent and infinite grace, arising
from the sanctity of Christ Jesus, comprised the whole mys-
tery of it in these few words, " Separated from sinners." Heb.
vii. God hath given us a high priest, who, by the celestial
unction with which he was replenished, was to all intents and pur-
poses separated from the mass of sinners. Now you know that
the sanctity of Christ our Lord is the pattern of ours ; and that
ours, to please God, must resemble his. As this God-man, there-
fore, was sanctified by a grace which separated him from the world
in the most perfect manner, so also the grace by which we are
sanctified, must produce in us, proportionably, the like effect. In
consequence of which the Lord may say to us, as he said to the
Israelites : you are my select people, and I look upon you as such ;
but to what purpose, and in what manner ? Because I have sepa-
rated you from all the other people who inhabit the globe ; people
bewildered in the darksome mazes of idolatry and infidelity. This
is the characteristic of Christian vocation, or the* grace of Chris-
tianity. Now hence it is, that I draw the proof of my first propo-
sition ; and proportioning, (according to St. Bernard's rule,) by
the^divine operation, our obligation to the Deity, I enter upon a
topic, the most edifying that this subject is capable of furnishing.

Christian vocation, as it proceeds from God, and is inspired by
him, is a grace of separation. Therefore the correspondence which
it requires, and which is due to it, and which properly makes up
the duty of a Christian, is a correspondence of t separation on the
part of man, because the correspondence with divine grace must
be referred to the end to which the grace is referred. For as
" there are diversities of graces" (1 Cor. xii.) and inspirations, so
it must be acknowledged, that " there are diversities of opera-
tions" (1 Cor. xii.) and duties in man. That is, with every kind

ON THE CHRISTIANS CHARACTER. 181

of grace, every kind of duty is not correspondent. My meaning is
this : God gives me a grace to resist and guard against a passion
that prompts me to commit sin. With this grace I cannot correspond,
but by resisting and guarding against the passion that prompts
me. On the other hand, he gives a grace to avoid the occasion of
sin. To this grace I cannot be faithful but by flight and retire-
ment ; because (says St. Prosper) my business is to follow the
impulse of grace, and not the business of grace, to be ruled by my
impulse. As, therefore, the grace by which Almighty God hath
called me to Christianity, or to the profession and practice of
Christianity, is nothing but a grace of separation from the world,
whatever I do, I shall never fulfil the duties of Christianity, with-
out separating from the world, and doing that for God which God
first did for me.

For, God to no purpose, by pre-ordaining me to be a Christian,
separates me from the world, if I separate not from it of my own
accord, by executing the decree, and co-operating with the grace
that makes me a Christian. These two separations, if I may be
permitted so to speak, must concur together, and that of God
must be seconded by mine, as that of God is the sacred
origin from which mine flows. Do you conceive this verity ?
This, in substance, is all the divinity necessary for a Christian, all
in which he ought to put his trust and confidence. For, some
consequences may be thence deduced, which each of us, this day,
should apply to himself, as so many rules whereby to recognise,
and judge of his conduct in the presence of God. Let nothing, I
beseech you, of what I am going to advance, escape you.

The first consequence : no more is requisite than your being a
Christian, to bring on you an obligation of living in this spirit of
separation from the world ? But what mean we by the world ?
We mean the false pleasures, the profane joys, the criminal intri-
gues, the luxury, the pastimes, the folly, the customs, or rather
the evil practices ; in a word, all that foments and nourishes the
corruption and dissoluteness of the world. We mean whatever
the beloved disciple understood, when he forebade us "to love the
world, or those things which are in the world." John ii. We mean
what he explained himself more largely, when he added, that "all
that is in the world, is the lust of the flesh, and the lust of the
eyes, and the pride of life." John ii. We mean what he com-
manded us to detest and shun, when he concluded, that "the whole

182 ON THE CHRISTIANAS CHARACTER.

world was set in wickedness." 1 John v. The being, I say, a
Christian, is sufficient, alone, to lay on us an obligation, by our
profession and state, of separating from it ; and for that there needs
only the being a Christian, forasmuch, as we renounce it the mo-
ment that we are regenerated by the grace of Christianity. This
you all know, beloved hearers ; and unless you disclaim what the
church hath solemnly transacted in your name, and what you since
have ratified a thousand times, you cannot disown it.

And, in fact, when heretofore the fathers dissuaded the faithful
from resorting to certain diversions, diversions of which the world
at all times was passionately fond, and a fondness for which was
a distinctive mark of the man of the world, they used no other
argument than that of their being Christians, and being separated
from the world ; and this was, alone, sufficiently convictive. The
theatre, (says one of them, Tertullian,) which is nothing but an
open scene of lasciviousness, is a boundary that separates the pagans
from us ; for they flock to it, and we abhor it : and the difference
is only a consequence jresul ting from the difference of our religions.
In like manner, when he recommended to the women, modesty
and simplicity in their outward carriage, which, in their regard,
may be deemed the first step toward separating from the world,
how did he address them? You are Christians, (said he,) and, by
consequence, separated from all those things which have relation to
vanity. You have given up theatrical shows and exhibitions ; you
are no longer reckoned in the number of those who frequent public
places, with a view only to see and be seen ; you have bidden fare-
well to that kind of company, in which pride or pageantry, or licen-
tiousness, or incontinence, "maintains the bond of criminal inter-
courses ; in quality of Christians, you are known no longer to
appear in the world, but to perform all the deeds of charity and
devotion ; to visit the poor and infirm who are your brethren ; to
pay your adoration at the divine sacrifice, and to hear the word of
God. All this, however, is directly opposite to that worldly spirit,
that infatuation inherent in your self-love. I own it may be neces-
sary to hold communication with infidel women ; but you are,
therefore, unworthy of the name you bear, if, by your example,
you give them not a notion of what you are, and you be not careful
to appear in the genuine ornaments of your sex, which are a sense
of modesty and a strict decorum. Thus, we see, that Tertullian's
argument was raised on the basis of Christian duty, a convincing

ON THE CHRISTIAN'S CHARACTER. 183

argument to the faithful of those times ; and wo be to us, if we
stubbornly resist and spurn at conviction.

It is a mistake, therefore, a gross and pernicious mistake, to say,
"as I am a man of the world, I cannot refrain from living by its
rules, and conforming to its maxims." For, this is what ruins you ;
this is the source of all your ill conduct. Now, I needs must tell
you, that to speak in this manner is a kind of blasphemy. For
although the Son of God hath, in express terms, declared to you
in the gospel, that you are no longer of this world, yet you sup-
pose that you are, and pretend to be of it in the very same sense
that he declared you were not. We must then invert the propo-
sition, and say : I am no longer of the world, because I am a Chris-
tian ; therefore, 1 am not any longer allowed to live by its rules,
or comform to its maxims. Then will you speak according to the
spirit and grace of your vocation.

But this is too general. The second consequence : in the Chris-
tian religion, the more careful one is to retire from the world, the
more one is a Christian ; and the greater one's engagements and
connexion with it is, (except the connexion which relates to one's
duty, and the engagement one is in by necessity and one's station,)
the less one is a Christian. The reason is this : according to the
measure of these two states, he partakes more or less in the grace
of separation, which constitutes a Christian. This is so evident,
(it is a remark of the holy bishop of Geneva, Francis de Sales,)
that when heretofore the grace of Christianity was observed to
operate with all its virtue, force, and fulness, on the minds of men,
its influence was such as to cause separations, which, in the opinion
of the world itself, amounted to heroism. Arsenius is honoured
and esteemed at court : this grace withdraws him, and transports
him to the wilderness. Melania enjoys all the delights and pomp
of affluence at Rome : this grace disengages her, and makes her
seek the delights of retirement at Bethlehem. Never were there
so many illustrious anchorets, that is, so many illustriously severed
from the world, as in those first ages of the church of Christ, be-
cause there never were so many fervent and perfect Christians.
And why do we suppose that monasteries, at all times, were a
refuge for sanctity, but because sanctity dwells in them quite seques-
tered from the noise of the world ?

What mean we by a fervent and well regulated religion ? Give
car to St. Bernard, and permit me to bear witness to a well known

184 ON THE CHRISTIAN'S CHARACTER.

truth. What mean we by a fervent and well regulated religion,
such as it appears at this present time ? It is a standing represen-
tation of Christianity. It is (says St. Bernard) a particular Chris-
tianity, which, in the destruction of universal Christianity, was
saved, as it were, from shipwreck and ruin, and which Providence
preserved, like that Christianity, which from the beginning was
held in veneration by the very pagans. This, beloved hearers, this
is what renders religion respectable. On the contrary, I learn by
woful experience, that the more a Christian intermeddles in the
affairs and intrigues of the world, the less he is a Christian ; and
as he takes steps and advances in them, the spirit of Christianity
is proportionably impaired and vitiated in him. Insomuch, that
when the fathers speak of solicitations for the things of this world,
or of vanities and pleasures which discover an attachment to them,
they affirm, without difficulty, that all this includes a kind of apos-
tacy. The reason is, that the grace of faith being a principle of
separation with regard to these things, not effectually to renounce
them, is to renounce, in some measure, the grace of faith.

But I proceed further. The third consequence : it is utterly
impossible for a Christian man to be truly reformed, and return to
God, unless he be resolved to bid adieu to the world, differently
from what he hath hitherto done ; and it implies a contradiction,
to desire to be of the world, and as deeply engaged in its follies as
ever, and pretend to the practice of that sincere penitence which
produces salvation. For how, beloved hearers, can these two tilings
be supposed reconcileable ? You grant, yourselves, that it was
the world which destroyed in you the spirit of your religion, and
the spirit of your God. It is, therefore necessary, that to receive
this spirit, you retire from the world, and that instead of continuing
vainly to imagine, that this spirit may be found where it is not,
you seek it where it is. Now what is more evident, than that the
Spirit of God is not to be found in that kind of world of which
we here speak, as, far from finding it there, it was there you lost it ?
And here I cannot help being moved with compassion, seeing
certain souls, with whom we may say that the world abounds, who
although they cannot, once for all, resolve upon this separation
from an alluring world, yet have they their eternal welfare at heart,
and deliberate for ever, but never amend. God inspires their minds,
grace acts within them, they conceive a thousand ardent desires of
obtaining salvation. You would think them quite altered, and

ON THE CHRISTIAN'S CHARACTER. 185

that the charm was broken ; and notwithstanding all this, do but
touch the point of withdrawing from the world. Ah ! Christians,
this is a requisition more affecting than death, a requisition at which
they perpetually recoil. For this reason, they are ingenious at
finding out pretexts and expedients for laying stress on the engage-
ments that keep them in the world, and, in their apologies for it,
exert all their powers, and all their address. Alas ! (say they)
may we not be of the world, and work out our salvation ? Is not
God the author of those stations, which are censured so loudly
under the name of world ? May not we of the world arrive to
perfection, as well as those who are immured in cloisters ? But
when we make answer, that the case relates not to the world in
general ; that we mean a certain world, in which sin hath the vogue,
because it is a world ; in which libertinism passes for agreeable
and harmless, in which detraction is the ground- work of all conver-
sation ; in which all the passions are, as it were, concentrated, and
in their own element ; in which there are rocks without end — rocks
against which conscience must unavoidably split ; that this is the
world which they must studiously shun, if they pretend to list
under the banners of Christ : that, on this head, they must observe
no mean, try no expedient, but proceed steadily, without tergiversa-
tion ; that their conversion depends upon a generous and total defal-
cation of this nature, and a weaning of their affections from superflu-
ous pageantry and forbidden pleasures : if you talk in this strain, yet
hath grace this eternal obstacle to surmount, and rarely surmounts it
in these worldly souls ; because, to disunite them from such a world,
is to divide them from themselves, a thing they will never come into
effectually, because they were only of that mind imperfectly.

Is it possible, (say they,) is it possible to live, and not see the
world ? What should I do, should I openly declare I was no
longer of the world ? To what should I betake myself, in order
to shake off the irksomeness arising from such a retreat? What
would the world think, what would mankind say of me ? For,
these are the difficulties which the spirit of the world is wont to
raise in a soul that begins to treat with the Lord about her con-
version. And I say, Christians, that had you but ever so little
faith, or in other words, had you hearkened but ever so little to
faith, you would blush and be confounded at these sentiments.
No, no, my Lord, (would you say to God,) it is not upon that
my resolution must depend, and I argue like an infidel, when I

180 ON THE CHRISTIAN'S CHARACTER.

speak to that purpose. Whether I find this renouncing of the
world difficult or easy, whether it be productive of grief or joy,
whether it be approved or condemned by the world, because it is
necessary I must yield submission to it. If to forsake the world
be painful to me, I will accept this pain, in satisfaction for my
criminal attachment to it. And how often, my God, have I found
the world intolerably wearisome ? And will it be too much to
suffer all this for you ? The world will blame me ; but, alas !
what avails it, whether it praise or condemn me, as sincerely to
shun it is my fixed resolution ? I cast what will mostly then take
up my time ; and will it be deemed much, or overstraining the
point, to keep a constant eye, and adhere to the duties of my reli-
gion and calling ? Are not these occupations more becoming and
worthy, than those which in the world I made the business of life ?
Occupations that dissipated, but enlarged not my mind, and cor-
rupted my heart, but left it void and unsatisfied.

In the mean time, Christians, do you desire to know what this
relinquishing of the world is ? It is the grand point, the practical
duty which remains to be explained. I speak not here of the vi-
cious and bad qualities attending it. This, indeed, would furnish
many solid reflections, but would not, perhaps, be universally
relished. My utmost endeavours shall not be wanting, to pene-
trate into the utmost recesses of your hearts, in order to gain them
over to the Lord your God.

The manner of quitting the world is two-fold — false and true.
The manner which we, I presume, shall adopt, will be such as it
should be, will be sincere and disinterested, and will proceed from
God. Upon this assumption, I say, that there are two different
ways of quitting the world : one, corporeal and external ; the other,
mental and internal. I say, that both, toward the leading of a
truly Christian life, are necessary ; forasmuch, as the quitting of
the world externally is a mere phantom, if not internally supported
and animated, and that the quitting of it externally cannot hold
or subsist without internal aid. It is a maxim of St. Bernard,
and indeed of all the other fathers. We must quit the world, with
all our heart and with all our mind. To make show of quitting it
by my apparel, my condition, my abode, my function, my conver-
sation, answers no purpose, if I am still attached to it by affection
and inclination. It is by the heart I must begin the separation.
Now, beloved Christians, in the midst of your embarrassments and

ON THE CHRISTIAN'S CHARACTER. 187

worldly concerns, you may fully possess this separation of the
heart, and in the same perfection (if the will be not wanting) as
religious and solitaries, forasmuch as the heart is subordinate to
the will, and at your own disposal.

But this is not all. The separation of the heart must be accom-
panied, or rather, must be upheld by the other, which is external
and corporeal ; because such is the contagion (says St. Gregory)
of the world, that men the most chaste, the most holy, and the
most disengaged from a love and affection to it, are liable to be
ensnared by its deceitful blandishments. These, therefore, we
must weaken from time to time ; of these, we must lessen the im-
pression by retiring, and externally withdrawing from their dan-
gerous influence. We must do like those consuls and princes of
the earth, of whom Job speaks, who, in their very palaces, built
themselves solitudes, wherein they lived in the midst of the world,
as though dissevered from it : " With kings and consuls who built
themselves solitudes." Job vi.

Hence those holy retreats arose, which are so much practised
by the Christian people, and which produce such marvellous effects
of grace. In these retirements, what do they do ? They hear the
voice of God, they converse familiarly and peaceably with him,
they are feelingly affected with his communications, to which they
correspond. O my brethren, the days you shall pass in these pious,
these solitary exercises of devotion, will be properly your days ;
and we may say, that without them, all other days are in a manner
lost to you. What is very deplorable, they are mostly admired
and practised by those who stand least in need of them. For who
have the greatest occasion for them ? Not the ecclesiastic, nor the
recluse, who, conformably to his profession, leads a regular life.
Who then ? That man of business, whose conscience is loaded
with a thousand injustices, which he will never behold in a proper
light, but in retirement ; that retainer to the court, who will never,
but in retirement, think seriously of his salvation ; that woman of
the world, who is immersed in wickedness, and entangled in cor-
ruption, from which nothing but retirement is capable to extricate
her. These are they, for whom spiritual exercises and retreats
are needful. For others, they are of counsel, but for these, they
are oftentimes of strict obligation ; because, according to the natural
order of grace, and the usual ways of divine Providence, they be
come, for them, the onlv means of saving their souls.

n2

188 OK THE CHRISTIAN'S CHARACTER.

These, beloved hearers, are the outlines of Christianity. Let us
leave the world, before the world leaves us ; for leave it we must,
either by choice, and from virtuous motives, or by compulsion, and
of necessity. Now, were it not more eligible, that this should be
done by the attractives of grace, than by the violence of death ?
Let us leave the world, while it is in our power to bear this testi-
mony in our own behalf, and in the presence of God ; that we
leave it for his, and for righteousness' sake. For what honour do we
pay to God, by betaking ourselves to him, because we can no
longer relish the world, or, to speak more properly, because we
can no longer be relished by the world ? What glory accrues to
him from the amendment of our lives, an amendment arising not
from an effort to abandon creatures, but from a secret despair, for
that creatures abandon us ? Let us leave the world in the man-
ner in which, at the judgment of God, we should wish to have
left it ; and as (according to St. Augustin) the judgment of God,
with regard to the righteous, will not be a punishment, but a mere
separation, let us anticipate, in this life, the effect of that judg-
ment. Let us now do that, which God will do then ; let us show
ourselves now in the rank in which we shall then appear : that is,
let us appear distinguished from the ungodly and the reprobated ;
let us not procrastinate, nor wait till the coming of Christ our
Lord ; let us so conduct ourselves, that at whatever time he shall
come to judge us, finding us disengaged in this perfect manner,
there will only need his ratification. Let us separate from the
world, that God may not separate us from his chosen servants.
For as there is (according to the scripture doctrine) a separation
of mercy and a separation of grace, so is there also of rigour and
justice ; and the strongest imprecation which the inspired psalmist
uttered against his enemies (which were always the enemies of
God) was, " Lord, divide them from the few." Ps. xvi. Separate
them from the elect, from the small number whom you have
chosen, and whom you beheld in your divine foreknowledge from
all eternity.

Above all things, Christians, beware of imagining that the relin-
quishing of the world is a dismal undertaking, a melancholy situa-
tion. What though it were such, considering how salutary and
necessary it is, you should make it the object of your love and
desire. But I fear not to affirm, that if you be faithful to God in
this, he will make your souls overflow with delights, infinitely pre-

ON THE CHRISTIAN'S CHARACTER. 189

ferable to all the joys and pleasures of the senses. In fact, there
are none, among all mankind, more happy than they who have no
kind of intercourse with the rest of mankind. The truth of this is
universally allowed. Strange, that we should fear to enjoy that
which we know constitutes the happiness of others. And yet such,
beloved hearers, is the infatuation of our minds, and the inordina-
tion of our lives ; enamoured with the world, though convinced of
its inanity ; always disgusted with it, but never disengaged from
it. However, my brethren, the first characteristic of a Christian
is, to be separated from the world. But we must not stop there.
The second is, to be consecrated to God, as I am going to set forth
in the second part.

Part. II. The service of the great, with respect to kings, bear
a resemblance to the service of the saints in relation to God. For
as sovereigns confer upon persons of high rank and merit the super-
intendence of their household, so may we conceive that the Lord
of heaven and earth confers grace and sanctity on men who bear
the character of consecration, are found good and faithful servants,
and worthy to be of his household. All men (says St. Gregory)
are essentially subject to the power of God ; but all men are not,
therefore, consecrated to him. This consecration is produced by
a grace peculiar to Christianity. In order to examine this doctrine
in a profound manner, be pleased to take with you three things
worthy of your reflection ; tilings capable to fill the heart with the
noblest sentiments, and the head with the most sublime ideas of
faith. The excellence of what I call the consecration of a Chris-
tian ; the indispensable obligation of a holy life, which this conse-
cration imposes upon a Christian ; the peculiar stain, which, by
woful necessity, and inconsequence of this consecration, is inherent
in every sin of a Christian. Should I be so happy, beloved hear-
ers, as to make you comprehend these three articles, I may expect
from you everything that is good and great.

1st. What is baptismal unction, by virtue of which we are de-
nominated Christians ? It is (says St. Cyprian) a solemn conse-
cration of our persons to God, in which it should seem that he had
collected together, to make it the more precious, all the riches of
his grace. For (adds this father) we are consecrated by baptism,
I know not how many ways, all which should inspire us with a
respect for ourselves. By it we are consecrated as kings, as priests,
as temples of God, as children of God, and as members of God.

190 ON THE CHRISTIAN'S CHARACTER.

All ! beloved hearers, let us find ourselves out, let ue know what
we are, and let us be ashamed, if we are not what so many con-
curring motives should make us.

By baptism, we are consecrated as kings and priests. So the
apostle St. Peter declares, when speaking to the Christians, in
his first epistle ; he ascribes to them these two qualities, by calling
them "a kingly priesthood." 1 Peter ii. In like manner, the
beloved disciple makes the blessing of redemption to consist partly
in this : that Christ our Lord, who is the sovereign Redeemer,
"hath made us to our God a kingdom and priests." Apoc. v. And,
indeed, as Christians, we are destined to reign ; nor is it exagger-
ation, or a figurative expression, to say, that in baptism we are con-
secrated to possess a kingdom — the kingdom of heaven ; that in it
we receive the investiture of a crown — the crown of heaven ; and,
that when the grace of this sacrament is conferred on us, we are
legally entitled to claim the throne which the Son of God hath
prepared for us in. heaven.

As Christians, we are also consecrated priests of the living God.
For the baptismal ointment not only empowers, but obliges the
Christian to offer up continual sacrifices to God : the sacrifice of
his mind by faith ; of his body, by penitence ; of his property, by
alms-deeds ; of his resentment, by charity ; of his ambition by hu-
mility ; all oblations (says St. Paul) by which Almighty God is
made propitious to us, and without which, Christianity is but the
shadow of religion, "for by such sacrifices God's favour is ob-
tained." Heb. xiii. I say more : because, in quality of Christians,
we have it in our power to offer up, every day, the greatest of
sacrifices, which is that of the body and blood of Christ Jesus.
For, you offer, my brethren, laymen as you are, verily, and con-
jointly with the minister of the Lord, this divine sacrifice. And,
hence, St. Leo rightly inferred, that the laity should deem them-
selves associates to the priests, and copartners and sharers in the
priestly function. Now you cannot offer up this sacrifice with the
priests, without being, in one sense, as priests yourselves. Whence
it follows, that the character of a Christian makes you, in some
sort, partake of the sacerdotal unction.

Further : in virtue of this character, you are made sacred, and
devoted to God as his temples. No doctrine in the works of St.
Paul more common than this. It is not, my brethren, (says this
great apostle,) in temples made by the hands of men, but in those

ON the christian's character. 101

which he hath himself erected in us, that our God abides ; for,
yourselves are the temples of the omnipotent God. Wherefore,
beloved hearers, observe that the quality of being God's temples,
is annexed solely, and in the strict sense, to the grace of baptism ;
and no grace but that of baptism, although it were as eminent as
that of the angels, imparts the quality of being God's temples.
The reason is this : we are not, properly, the temples of God, but
inasmuch as we are capable, by partaking of his body, to receive
this God of goodness and majesty, who makes so many sanctuaries
and tabernacles of our breasts. Now, how are we enabled to receive
in this manner, this God-man ? By baptism. For although I
had the sanctity of the glorified spirits, I could not, without the
sacred character of baptism, appear at the table of our Saviour
Christ, or partake of his sacrament. It is baptism, therefore, that
first consecrates us temples to God ; or rather, it is by baptism,
and by the character it confers on us, that we are made and deno~
minated the temples of God.

But what are these qualities all together, if compared with the
titles, the glorious titles, of children of God, and members of God ?
For,' these are directly the terms and expressions of the sacred pen-
men. Of us it is that St. John speaks, when he says, that all
those who have been united in baptism, by the waters of regenera-
tion, with our Lord Jesus Christ, and all those who have believed
in him, and in his holy name, have acquired, from that moment,
an incontestable right of being called, as they are, the children of
God : " As many as received him, he gave them power to be made
the sons of God, to them that believe in his name." John i. To
the Corinthians it was that St. Paul said, " You are the body of
Christ, and members of member." 1 Cor. iL In short, beloved
hearers, to set forth in this place the gifts descending from the
heavenly Father, and by him communicated to the Christian soul,
were an endless task, for which whole discourses would be insuffi-
cient. Let us pass on, therefore, to our obligation of holiness, an
obligation arising from such holy qualities ; and let us gather from
thence a motive of shame, in the view of making • it, at the same
time, conducive to our edification.

2ndly. This, my brethren, as I said before, is what we are, and
these are the respectable, the august characters, which his grace,
in proportion to our state of life, imprints on our souls. But there
must, moreover, an inference be drawn from these positions. Ob-

192 ON THE CHRISTIAN'S CHARACTER.

serve then the charity which the love of God ought to kindle in
our breasts ; how strict an obligation of fervour and zeal it lays
us under ; what integrity of manners is necessary to keep up the
degree of glory to which grace hath raised us. Is it too much to
require that we be perfect Christians, and that we fill up, not the
extent, but in some shape, the immensity of this duty ? In a word,
can what is commanded by the divine law, how heroical soever, be
too exalted for the children of God ? Ah ! my Lord, (cries St.
Ambrose,) can we be thought deserving this great name, if, by an
ungenerous, unseemly conduct, we degenerate and fall from the
noble sentiments which the spirit of Christianity always inspires,
and indulge the meannesses and sordid views which the spirit of
the world never fails to suggest ? And should we not for ever
renounce the honour of belonging to you, if we were to content
ourselves with moderate virtues, and pretend to confine them
within narrow limits ?

Thus it was, Christians, that the fathers of the church conceived
this matter ; and it was on this foundation that the apostle raised
the strongest remonstrances which he made to the faithful. In
his addresses to them, he used no appellation but that of saints ;
and when he wrote to the churches committed to his care, these
were the inscriptions his epistles bore : " To the saints of the
church at Corinth :" " To the saints who are at Ephesus;" for he
supposed that the one could not be without the other, and that as
to be consecrated to Almighty God was the essence of a Christian,
so to be a Christian by profession was to be a saint. Wherefore
he mostly made use of this argument, to induce the Christians to
an inviolable purity both of body and mind, a purity by which he
would have them be distinguished from the rest of mankind.
"Know you not, my brethren, (says he,) that (by baptism) you
are become the temple of God ?" Now the temple of God should
be clean and holy, and whoever profanes it, him God will undo.

Upon this passage, Zeno of Verona makes a remark equally
solid and judicious. If this temple of God (says he) were perfect
and finished in us who reside in these earthly abodes, such as it is
in the blessed who inhabit the heavenly mansions, we should not
need be at any pains for our sanctification. But because this
structure, as long as we live, must be always increasing, but never
completed, it is incumbent on us, in order to answer the views of
God, who is the principal architect, to raise it continually, and

ON the christian's character. 193

without interruption. This St. Paul hath nobly expressed in the
following words : " In whom all the building, being framed toge-
ther, groweth up into an holy temple in the Lord." Ephes. ii.
For he says not, that Christ is the groundwork on which we are
built and constructed, but on which we build and construct our-
selves, in order to be a temple consecrated to the Lord. Now
this temple cannot be edified, that is, erected, but by the holiness
of life ; and therefore a holy life, and an edifying life, are, in com-
mon use, synonymous terms, and of equal import. And the wonder
is, that, if we be righteous, the temple of God is, at every instant,
built and erected to our God in our persons.

True it is, (says the great apostle in another place,) as Chris-
tians you participate in the priesthood of Christ, and in the mi-
nistry of the priests ; but, for that same reason, I conjure you to
make an offering to God of your bodies, as so many sacrifices, holy
and living, and agreeable in his eyes. For if the priests of the old
law were obliged to be holy, because they were deputed to offer
bread and incense ; you, who in consequence of your call to Chris-
tianity, offer victims to God infinitely more noble ; you, who every
day offer him in the unbloody sacrifice of the altar, the body and
blood of the immaculate Lamb ; you, who offer him, if the scrip-
tural argument be supposed consequential, the heart and affections,
and every power of the soul : what ought you to be in his divine
presence? " They offer the burnt-offering of the Lord, and the
bread of their God, and therefore they shall be holy." Levit. xxi.
To what doth this manner of reasoning extend, in our regard ?
And what necessity doth it not lay us under of leading an un-
spotted and chaste life ; a life disengaged from the corruption of the
world ?

3rdly. This, beloved hearers, is enough for your encourage-
ment ; and yet this shoidd make your blood run cold, if you arc
not affected with what I have advanced. For, the third article,
with which I shall close this discourse, is, that the sins of Chris-
tians contract a particular malignity and guilt, which is that of
sacrilege, and which renders them the more abominable in the
sight of God. For, sacrilege, according to divines, is the profan-
ation of a thing consecrated to God. Now whatever is in me, is
consecrated to God by the sacrament of baptism ; and all the sins
which I shall commit henceforward, are so many crimes of self-
profanation. Therefore all my sins include a kind of sacrilege of

194 ON THE CHRISTIAN'S CHARACTER.

which I stand guilty. But what is the nature of this sacrilege ?
It is the profanation of a thing not only consecrated to God, but
united and corporated with him, as the Christian is, in consequence
of his baptism, by the principles of his faith. Ah ! my brethren,
(says the great apostle, writing to the Corinthians, and justly ex-
asperated at a similar abuse,) is it possible that I must come to
that extremity? What! "Shall I then take the members of
Christ, and make them the members of an harlot ?" 1 Cor. vi.
What ! shall I corrupt a heart, that should be the abode of my
God — infect it with poison the most mortal, and defile it with
iniquities of every kind ?

However, beloved hearers, this is what we do, when we yield
to the allurements and suggestions of sin ; so that some divines,
by straining the sense of the apostle's words, have doubted that
Christ, how impeccable soever, became a sinner in Christians, and
as many times, too, as they committed sin. I know that the
church hath exploded this impious manner of speaking, so injurious
to the sanctity of a God-man, and branded it as heretical. But
this impious and heretical manner of speaking, is founded in this
certain and indubitable truth, which they perverted : that when-
ever we sin, they are the brothers and members of Christ who sin :
" Shall I then take the members of Christ, and make them the
members of an harlot ?"

These, my brethren, are no exaggerations ; nor is it one that I
add, deploring the melancholy decay of Christianity, that, notwith-
standing all this, there is nothing in it more common than sin.
When the Almighty beheld the corruption and [wickedness into
which mankind, in the primitive ages of the world, had fallen,
" it repented him," according to the language of scripture, "that he
had made man." Gen. vi. The sight of so many and so great
abominations made him look with horror on his own work, and
resolve to destroy it. "I will destroy man," says he, " whom I have
created." Gen. vi. Alas ! my brethren, were these antediluvians
more vicious than we are ? And in their vices were they more
criminal ? Were they given to more fatal and scandalous doings,
ruled by more sensual and unmanly appetites, subject to more gross
and filthy voluptuousness ? Were they more remarkable for in-
justice, enmity, revenge, perfidy, irregularity, debauchery ? And
were they, in these, or in anything else, more criminal than we
are ? Had they the same advantages by the incarnation of the

ON THE CHRISTIAN'S CHARACTER. 105

Son of God ? Had Christ our Lord appeared before their eyes
in the same flesh ? Had he contracted with the same union, by
the same grace, in the same sacraments ? In a word, were they
Christians like us ? And was not that a solid and conclusive
inference, which was made by Tertullian, and after him by all the
other fathers, that in the new law, the law which unites us so
closely with Christ, which so particularly devotes us to the service
of God, which gives us so intimate a communication with God,
and which makes us partake, in some measure, in the nature of
God, our sins, if we be sinners, makes us much the more culpable
at the divine tribunal, and much the more accountable to the
divine justice ?

What then have we not to fear ? May it please kind heaven to
avert the effect of so terrible a menace, and that we may have it
in our power to prevent it ? May it not, to use again the scripture
phrase, repent the Almighty of what he hath done, by honouring
us with so holy and glorious a character ! May he not let his
church, which he hath ransomed with his blood, and quickened
with his Spirit, ever fall to destruction ! What do I say, beloved
hearers ? He will never destroy her, she shall always subsist, she
is built upon a solid and unshaken rock. But, content to single
out some faithful souls, he will destroy the vast number of unwor-
thy persons, who, instead of edification, give her trouble and
affliction. He will exclude them from his kingdom as so many
stumbling-blocks and scandalous nuisances, and will send them
over to another land. He will preserve Christianity, but millions
of Christians he will doom to perdition. He will let the torch of
faith go out among us. Alas ! is it not half extinguished already ?
Doth it not appear from daily experience, that the minds of men
are more and more clouded, and by little and little sink utterly
and irretrievably into the darkness of incredulity ? For, this
is the chastisement which they draw upon themselves from the
hand of God. And how is it possible that faith should subsist,
holy and sanctifying, with so much licentiousness, and should not
clash with so great a perversion of Christian morals ?

What then remains for us, O my God, but to have speedy
recourse to your infinite mercy, and move you to compassion by
resuming a pure and active faith ? Culpable as we are, we are
your children who implore you, and call upon you as their Father ;
we are the living members of your adorable Son, because we are

196 ON THE INTERCOURSE BETWEEN

Christians. If we have but a few faint glimmerings of light to
direct our steps, they may increase to refulgence by the assistance
of your grace. Permit us not, O Lord, to be deprived of this
only source left. Every other vengeance you shall please to exert,
we deserve, and accept it from your paternal hand. But, O my
God, support our faith, increase our faith, enliven our faith. Oh !
reward it with bliss, and crown it with glory to all eternity !

SERMON X.

For the Fifth Sunday after Epiphany ; or the Twenty-sixth after Pentecost.

THE INTERCOURSE BETWEEN THE RIGHTEOUS AND THE WICKED.

" While the men slept, the enemy came and solved tares among
the wheat" Matt. xiii.

It is in the householder's field that these tares are sown among
the good grain ; and it is in the church of God that sinners live
among the righteous, and that the one and the other are con-
founded together. It was in the night-time, and when all were
asleep, that the enemy came to mar the field ; and it is in the course
of this mortal life, wmich, in our regard, is a time of obscurity, and
as it were, a dark night, that the common enemy of mankind com-
mits his ravages, and in the very bosom of the church keeps up
that mixture of the impious and reprobate with God's elect. He
doth not come, while we are upon the watch, have our eyes open,
and are attentive to ourselves ; but he lays hold of the critical
moments, when we are inebriated with the deceitful pleasures of
life, when we are lulled in the false delights and comforts of the
world, when we are deluded by passion, and hindered from per-
ceiving the damages he causes. " While the men slept." Thus it
is, that the guileful spirit insinuates himself, deforms the minds of
men with sin, and fills the Christian world with sinners. " The
enemy came and sowed tares among the wheat." God might
exterminate them all at once, with one motion of his arm ; but he
waits for the time of harvest, that is, the end of time, and his last

THE RIGHTEOUS AND THE WICKED. 197

judgment, when he shall send his harvestmen to separate the tares
from the good grain. But to speak in plain terms ; when he shall
send his angels — executioners of his will, and ministers of his jus-
tice, to make a distinction between the righteous and sinners ; to
place on the right hand, the predestinated righteous, and reprobated
sinners on the left ; to collect those together in his kingdom, and
hurl these headlong into eternal flames : " Gather ye together
the tares, and bind them in bundles to burn them ; but gather the
wheat into my barn." Matt. xiii. This time, Christians, is not
yet come ; and we shall live among the ungodly, and the ungodly
will live among us, until this separation is made between us. It
is of the utmost importance, therefore, to know how you ought to
demean yourselves in their regard, and what kind of intercourse
you ought to hold with them.

To search into the secrets of Almighty God, in order to find
out the end for which he suffers the ungodly among the righteous,
wrould be to try (says St. Augustin) to search into a mystery far
above our knowledge ; a mystery which it is our duty to adore,
without endeavouring to examine the nature of it. Almighty God
permits the ungodly to subsist ; and this we learn from experience :
he permits them to subsist among the good and the predestinate ;
and this is too evident to be called in question. To know the
reasons why he will have it so, is not within the narrow compass
of our sphere ; but to know the manner in which we should behave
to the ungodly and libertines, is what greatly imports us, and re-
quires our utmost regard and attention. Now of whom shall we
learn this ? Of God himself, who would in all things, but in this
particularly, be the example and pattern of our conduct. God,
beloved Christians, who is holiness itself, abides with sinners ; but
upon this I would observe two things, which ought to be two
very important lessons for us. The first is, that he doth not abide
with sinners, but by the necessity of his existence ; the second,
that by abiding with them, he at once provides for his own glory
and for their salvation. Whereupon I lay down two great obliga-
tions, which nearly concern us, and which I intend shall make the
division of this discourse.

First : God is with sinners only by the necessity of his exist-
ence ; and we are bound to be -with them only by the necessity of
our state.

Secondly : God provides for his own glory and the salvation

19S ON THE INTERCOURSE BETWEEN

of sinners, and by this means we ought to make our intercourse
with them equally profitable to them and to ourselves.

In the first part, I shall show you the general obligation we are
under of shunning all commerce with the unrighteous ; and in the
second, I shall lay before you the profit we must draw from it,
whenever necessarily engaged therein. In two words, a commerce
between the righteous and the unrighteous is generally dangerous
for the righteous ; but it may sometimes be to the advantage of
the one and the other. The righteous, so far as it is profitable to
themselves and the unrighteous in the way of salvation, they should
turn it to advantage. This is the subject of the present discourse,
and to which I entreat your attention.

Part I. To hear what the scripture says on this topic, beloved
Christians, it would seem as if God was and was not at the same
time with the ungodly ; as if he deprived them and deprived them
not of his divine presence. For thus it is that he expresses himself
differently, according to the difference of the characters he assumes,
and he wills to support in their regard. It is I (says he in one
place) who fill heaven and earth ; and let the sinner do what he
will, he cannot escape me, or withdraw himself from before my
eyes. Thus God is always present to the sinner, to observe and
watch him, and enlighten his mind. But he says in another place :
I repent my having created man, and for evermore I cast him off,
because he is carnal in every respect. Here you see that God is
separated from the sinner to take vengeance of him, and make him
undergo condign punishment. Whither shall I go, O Lord, (says
David,) and whither shall I fly from before thy face ? If I go
down into the darksome regions of hell, 1 there discover you exer-
cising in person the rigour of your justice. Almighty God, there-
fore, (concludes St. Jerom,) dwells even with the reprobate. But,
on the other hand, I hear Saul calling to Samuel, and declaring
his grief to him, or rather desperation, for that the Almighty had
forsaken him : "I am sorely distressed ; for, the Philistines make
war against me, and God is departed from me." 1 Kings xxviii.
It follows, therefore, that it is not among the reprobate that God
is to be looked for. How shall we reconcile all this ? By re-
flecting (replies the angelical doctor, St. Thomas) that God, who
is the holy of holies, is with the ungodly by the necessity of his
existence, not by affection or inclination.

My meaning is this : he is with sinners by the necessity of his

THE RIGHTEOUS AND THE WICKED. 199

existence, in that all his divine perfections engage him to be so :
his wisdom, by which he governs and maintains in due order all
his creatures, not excepting the most rebellious and outrageous
sinners ; his goodness, of which he imparts the effects to all his
creatures, even to sinners ; his omnipotence, which influences all
creatures, and consequently sinners. All these attributes of the
Creator, which bear relation merely to creatures, are such as all
mankind share a part alike, the bad equally with the good ; and it
is by reason of these attributes that God is inseparable from the
wicked. But, as I have said, they are attributes of necessity,
which God himself supposing the benefit of creation, cannot dis-
pense wTith, or set aside. For, beloved Christians, do but examine
the inclinations of his heart, and you will find the case to be quite
otherwise. Scarce is a man fallen into sin, but God breaks off all
alliance with him, and by a necessary, though woful, consequence,
all the communications of which his grace had been the bond. So
that he is no longer with the sinner in any of those ways by which
the bent and characteristics of his love are always perceived : that
is, he is no longer with the sinner, either by a special protection,
as he was with his own people in the wilderness ; or by a communi-
cation of his divine gifts, as he is with all the righteous ; or by an
inward and mysterious union of his adorable sacrament, as he is in
a singular manner with the Christian soul that receives it. All
this, with respect to the sinner, is at an end : which made the
divine Spirit say, that God no longer abides with sinners ; and
makes divines add, that if God (to suppose that possible which is
impossible) could divest himself of his immensity, he would still
remain present to a great number of persons to whom his grace
attaches him, but that he would cease to be with sinners, because
he no longer would have that necessity of ubiquitary existence and
ubiquitary agency. Whence St. Chrysostom concludes, (and Ins
thought is worthy of observation,) that the immensity of God,
which is one of his noblest attributes, is, in one sense, burdensome
to him, because it necessitates him to be. unable totally to rid him-
self from the object of his aversion and indignation.

An admirable idea this, Christians, of the manner in which we
ought to behave to the libertines of the age. For, what doth God
require of us ? That we behave to them as he himself behaves to
them. How is it possible that we should propose to ourselves a
better or more holy model ? In the first place, therefore, he would

•JOO ON THE INTERCOURSE BETWEEN

have us bear with them after his own example. And St. Augustin
tells us, that this requisition is founded in reason, in that others
were forced to bear with ourselves, when we went astray, and fol-
lowed the vices and follies of the times. For which reason, (con-
tinues the same holy doctor,) we should always be careful to retain
the remembrance of what we have been, in order to preserve a ten-
der and charitable compassion for others in their evil state. It
ou^ht, however, to be remembered, that he doth not mean to say
this commerce with the wicked should be pleasing to us, but only
should exercise our patience. That is, we ought to bear it, but
not love it, because we conform, by that means, to our rule, which
is God.

There are, I allow, connexions and engagements with the un-
righteous, which the divine law doth not only not command us,
but positively forbids us to break, because they are so many indis-
pensable duties ; and this is what I call the necessity of our state,
which bears analogy to the necessity of God's existence. Other-
wise (according to St. Paul) " we'must needs go out of the world."
1 Cor. v. For instance, must a father separate from his children,
because he sees the irregularity of their behaviour ; a wife from
her husband, because he leads a libertine life ; an inferior from a
superior, because he is a witness to his scandalous conduct ? No,
to be sure ; the law of duty, dependence, and subjection, positively
forbids it : and in that case we may say, that the mixture of the
righteous and the wicked is authorized by God, forasmuch as he
is the author of the conditions wliich are the groundwork of such
a communication. All this is true ; but, except what is restrained
by necessity and justice, when the matter is left to our own free
option, to seek the ungodly, and keep up a voluntary intercourse
with them — worldly and profane friendships, familiarity for which
there is no pretext but pleasure alone, and which no reason can
authorize or justify, I say, is to act in direct opposition to the orders
of God ; and what I say is perfectly agreeable to what the apostle
said to the Christians of Thessalonica, " We command you to
withdraw yourselves from every brother that walketh disorderly."
1 Thess. iii. Upon this account it was, that the royal prophet
made a conscience of it, and a religious point. " I have not sitten
(says he) with vain persons, neither will I go in with dissemblers ;
I have hated the congregation of evil-doers." Ps. xxv. My con-
stant maxim hath been to avoid all communication with the abet-

THE RIGHTEOUS AND THE WICKED. 201

tors of vice and folly, and never to mix or associate with those who
prize themselves for committing iniquity ; to love their persons,
because charity commands me to do so, but to hate their meetings,
to shun their intrigues, to abhor their converse, because the supe-
rior charity I owe to God and myself, forbids me to have any part
therein.

This, I say, beloved hearers, is that which Christian prudence
dictates, and that to which it indispensably obligeth us ; to avoid,
so far as our station will permit it, the company of the wicked.
And, indeed, God hath inspired us with a secret horror of it. You
are my people, (say he, to the children of Israel, leading them to
the land of Canaan,) you are my people, and I have chosen you,
among all the people who inhabit the earth, that you may be espe-
cially devoted to me ; but upon that very account, you shall not
hold correspondence with that infidel people, you shall not enter
into any alliance with them, nor shall any marriage be lawfully
contracted between you and them. St. Augustin asks, what can
be the reason of all this ? Might not an intercourse with foreigners
have been of singular advantage to the Israelites, in order to their
settling in the promised land ? Worldly policy, very likely, would
have closed with this opinion ; but God, whose holy and adorable
views are raised infinitely above those of men, was pleased, in his
wisdom, to make policy give way to the interests of religion :
" Take heed, lest thou enter into covenant with the inhabitants of
that land." Exod. xxxiv. These are the express w^ords of the law ;
and you shall see, beloved Christians, whether this prohibition was
useless and ill-founded. For, hearken to what St. Paul says. I
have admonished you, (says he, writing to the Corinthians,) and
specified to you in one of my letters, that you must not have any
kind of engagement, either with the unchaste or voluptuous, or
with defamers and calumniators, or with any person whatsoever,
who may corrupt you, or be an occasion of scandal to you. Al-
though he were your brother by every tie of inclination and friend-
ship, you are forbidden to hold any communication with him : "I
have written to you, that if any man who is called a brother, be a
fornicator, or a railer, or a drunkard, with such a one not to take
meat." 1 Cor. v.

God, by separating us from the wicked, would have us do now,
what he himself will one day do, and thereby antedate the general
resurrection and general judgment. When the Son of God shall

o

•202 ON THE INTERCOURSE BETWEEN

come to judge the world, the reprobate and the righteous will arise
at the same time ; but the reprobate will not be risen together
with the righteous, because, at the moment of resurrection, the
righteous will be separated from the reprobate, by that terrible
discrimination of which David speaks, and of which the angels will
be the executioners : " Therefore the ungodly shall not stand in the
judgment, nor sinners in the congregation of the righteous." Ps. i.
What, then, shall we infer from this ? That the good shall live on
the earth, with respect to the wicked, in the order in which they
shall rise from the dead and receive judgment ; that is, they sever
themselves (if I may so express it) from simiers, and begin, even
in this life, to take their rank.

Accordingly, in this consists the perfection and glory of the
righteous upon earth ; and such is the idea which the scripture gives
us of it. For when Almighty God commands Joshua to put
Acham to death, (a scandalous man in the midst of the people,)
he expresseth himself in these words only : "Arise, and sanctify
the people." Joshua vii. And what, O Lord, shall I do for that
end ? replies Joshua. Thou shalt exterminate that sacrilegious
wretch, Acham ; for so long as he remains among the tribes, I
cannot ;myself remain among them : but, cut off for ever from
among the living that vicious soul, and the whole people shall be
sanctified. One would imagine, beloved Christians, that the sepa-
ration of the wicked was, in some measure, a sacrament of expia-
tion for the righteous. In truth, this alone were enough to sanctify
whole families, whole communities, whole religious orders. Turn
out of the house a good-for-nothing servant that infects it, and you
will make it a house of piety. Remove from a religious commu-
nity a certain person of a turbulent spirit, that destroys the har-
mony which ought to reign in it, and you will make it a congregation
of saints. Banish from the prince's court some deists who may
have sway and power in it, and you will make it a Christian court.
There is in Paris, a certain man, who hath ruined more souls than
the devil, with all his wiles, will ever be able to do ; and you your-
selves know certain women, whose artful ways have made more
libertines, than the most contagious lessons of those who, in times
past, delivered lectures on debauchery. Take away, therefore, a
small number of these men and women, and you will re-establish,
almost universally, the worship of God. Now this retrenchment
would not be impossible, was the interest of God as much respected

THE RIGHTEOUS AND THE WICKED. 203

as that of men. Have you never noticed, beloved Christians, a
particular thing, which the evangelist St. John remarks, speaking
of the last supper which our blessed Saviour ate with his disciples,
before his death ? At the very time that the traitor, Judas, went
forth to put his dark design into execution, our blessed Lord fell
into a kind of extasy, saying, " Now the Son of man is glorified."
John xiii. Whence accrued this glory to him ? St. Augustin
asks. Not from the beatific vision of God : that he had from the
first instant he became man. Neither was it from the raising of
his body from the dead : the time for that was not yet come. It
accrued to him from the withdrawing of that traitor, who had till
then been in his presence with the other disciples. And this reason
is given for it by the text : " Therefore, when he went forth, Jesus
said, now the Son of man is glorified." As long as Judas remained
in his company, it was in some sort, a dishonour to him ; but per-
ceiving he was separated from him, though such separation was to
be followed by all the ignominy of the cross, he thought himself,
notwithstanding, glorified by it. Now if the glory of our Redeemer
was not complete, while a reprobated man was in his company,
judge, beloved hearers, whether you be holy, righteous, and plea-
sing in the presence of God, while you herd with sinners, and
voluntarily pass your days in the midst of them.

And St. Thomas tells us, that this is the reason why the church
cuts off certain persons from her communion. By issuing out ex-
communication, she separates the good grain from the bad, with a
view to retain to herself the one, and reject the other ; whereby
she instructs us in our duty, and lets us know what it is incumbent
on us to do. You would not keep away from the ungodly : she
keeps them, therefore, away from you. For you must not imagine
that her sole meaning is to punish them, by taking from them the
common advantages of society. Excommunication imports two
things ; a punishment for the culpable, and a law for the innocent.
The punishment is, that the church forbids the sinner to have any
more communication with the faithful ; and the law is, that at the
same time she commands the faithful to hold no more communica-
tion with the sinner. But can we thence infer, that the company
of no sinners is forbidden us, save those who are struck with the
anathematical thunder of the church ? No, Christians : though a
thing be not forbidden in formal terms by the church, it were illo-
gical reasoning to infer from thence, that it is allowed. There are

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204 ON THE INTERCOURSE BETWEEN

laws of a higher order, and more general, to which we are bound
to pay obedience. In virtue of her censures, the church doth no
more than prohibit an intercourse with scandalous persons who
rebel against her ; but without rebelling, it is enough that they are
scandalous, to make us conclude, independently of the prohibitions
of the church, that we are under a strict obligation of shunning
them. It would be a pitiful way of reasoning, that because the
church hath revoked the penalties pronounced against those who
associate with excommunicated persons, she, therefore, approves
of such connexions, and of the keeping such company.

My meaning is this, and pray take notice : it is very requisite
you should thoroughly comprehend what I am going to say. In
former times, according to the rigour of the canon law, none of the
faithful could ever have any dealing with a man cut off from the
communion of the church, without incurring the same censure.
This law is universal. For important reasons, however, made out
in oecumenical councils, the church hath relaxed in this rigour,
and forbids us only to have communication with those whom she
hath publicly, and by name excommunicated. Can it, therefore,
be inferred, that we may converse indifferently with all sorts of
persons, though corrupt and dangerous, under colour that they are
not stigmatized by the church ? It is a great mistake, beloved
Christians. The church may repeal her own laws ; she may chaDge
her customs ; but all this must be without prejudice to the law of
God, which is irreversible and invariable. Now the law of God is,
that except in the necessary engagements of my state, I refrain and
keep away from all company, in which the innocence of my soul
might run the hazard of being shipwrecked. If I seek it volun-
tarily, and by free choice, it is very true the thunders of the church
will not fall on me upon that account, because the church is willing
to treat me with that indulgence. But all her indulgence cannot
hinder me, from being, by that means, a scandal to my bretliren,
and from being, by that means, an enemy to myself, by working
my own destruction and wo.

1st. I say, beloved Christians, that to herd with libertines and
impious men, knowing them to be such, is to despise God. And,
in reality, what do you mean by a contempt of God, if not to join
and unite with his enemies ? And who are the enemies of God
but sinners, especially certain declared sinners ? What would you
think of a son who should cordially and affectionately side with the

THE RIGHTEOUS AND THE WICKED. 205

persecution of his father, with those who made base attempts on
the rights and honour of his father, with those who made open
war against his father ? Would you not hold him in the utmost
abhorrence, and look upon him as a monster of nature ? Now this
is what you do by associating and living with wicked men. So
long as they lead a sinful life, there must subsist an irreconcilable
hatred between God and them. Examine the scriptures, and read
the reproach which was made to Josaphat, king of Juda, in other
respects a religious prince. An alliance was settled between him
and Achab, king of Israel. There were reasons of state which
induced him to enter into this alliance, and it passed the council-
board without one dissenting voice. Nevertheless, the council was
in this condemned by Almighty God. Thou art, O king, (says
Jehu, taking all the liberty of a prophet,) a prevaricator: " Should st
thou help the ungodly, and love them that hate the Lord ? There-
fore didst thou deserve wrath." Paral. xix. The good works of
Josaphat, and the sincerity of his heart, pleaded his excuse. But,
beloved Christians, what can you allege ? To say nothing of the
injury you offer to God, how can you excuse the scandal you give
to the servants of God, in the church of God ? Tell me, is it not
scandalous, to see you every day in the most suspected places in
town, in company where all notions of shame are laid aside, where
an indeeent vein of humour is admired, where the most pernicious
maxims are adopted, and where the sacred rules of modesty are too
often disregarded ; to see you with men of no religion, and with
women of lost reputations, in places where licentiousness reigns
without bounds, and the most deadly contagion is spread ? What
can we think of it ? What can we say of it ? Nay, what hath
not already been thought and said of it ?

2ndly. And tell me not, that you know how to look to your
own preservation, and that notwithstanding whatever the world
may think and say of it, the testimony of your own conscience
pleads in your behalf, and that is enough. Give ear, dear bretliren,
to what St. Jerom hath written thereupon to a Roman lady. You
must be but superficially conversant (says he) in the duties of a
Christian life, to express your thoughts in that manner. And do
not you know, that in point of conduct you must give an account
to Almighty God not only of what you do, but of what they say
of you ? that it is not sufficient to set your own conscience at ease,
but that, moreover, you are under an obligation of satisfying the

206 ON THE INTERCOURSE BETWEEN

consciences of other people ? that St. Paul, who knew more of the
matter than you do, in regulating his conversation, considered men
as well as God, not imagining it could be innocent, so long as men
could take offence at it, and acknowledging full wrell he became
guilty in God's presence, by not taking pains to be irreproachable
in the sight of men ? Thus spoke St. Jerom ; and he concluded
by setting the example of the apostle, who would not eat of certain
meats, lest by so doing he should scandalize the faithful ! Alas !
(says the same holy doctor again,) the company of men is as neces-
sary as food ; and how can we be too careful to shun those scanda-
lous connexions, which hurt the purity of our conscience, afford
room for numberless suspicions, and are made the usual topic of
detraction, whereas St. Paul abstained from flesh, and even had a
horror of it, so long as it might give occasion of scandal to the
humblest Christian ?

3rdly. But, loved Christians, to pass over the scandal, and insist
only on wiiat more nearly concerns ourselves. How is it possible
to hold familiar communication with lewd and libertine livers, and
retain a pure and chaste heart ? Can you reasonably hope to
breathe an air entirely infected, and not feel the effects of its infec-
tion ? And would it not be the highest presumption to think
yourselves free from a danger which God hath forbidden as much
as the evil itself? If that were the case, the prophets and apostles
would not have been more strongly confirmed in grace than you
are ; and this advantage you woidd have over them, that they at
all times disliked the company of the ungodly, because they sup- {
posed it dangerous for them, as St. Jerom witnessed of Ezechial,
who in that view, withdrew from all the rest of the people, and
passed his days in holy retirement, whereas you, voluntarily and
fearless, remain among them, as though you possessed an infallible
antidote against sin. But if you do not, how rash must you be,
to run a greater hazard than those saints of the highest order durst
ever run ! To expose yourselves on many occasions for which
they thought their strength sufficient ! To live in security, though
they were always in fear and trembling ! Why did God so strictly
forbid the Jews to mix and traffic with foreigners ? Because he
foresaw that in such alliances and negotiations, their fall and ruin
would be almost inevitable. And in reality, had they ever com-
merce with any nation, whose impiety and superstitions they did
not in course of time adopt? " They were mingled among the

THE RIGHTEOUS AND THE WICKED. 207

Gentiles, and learned their works." Ps. cv. Why did the church,
from her first establishment, oppose among the Christians the con-
tracting of marriage with infidel people ? For thus it is St. Jerom
understands the words of St. Paul : "Be ye not yoked together
with unbelievers." 2 Cor. vi. Because she considered the danger
and ruin to which such alliances and engagements would necessa-
rily expose the faith of Christians. And why did our Saviour
give her such a power as would seem to destroy all the rights of
humanity ? Be attentive, I pray you. This will surprise you ;
but I shall advance nothing that is not founded in holy writ, and
the sacred canons. I say, why did our Saviour give his church
power to render null, or at least wTith respect to its chief obligations,
the most authentic of all the contracts that are celebrated amono"
mankind, a lawful marriage solemnly ratified between two pagans,
one of whom receives baptism, and the other persists in the practice
of idolatrous worship, but because in this junction of heterogeneous
religions, that of the true and living God would be exposed to
danger ? It cannot be doubted (says Tertullian) that the faith is
gradually obliterated by a frequent communication with infidels.
This is what that doctor, so zealous for strictness of discipline in
the church, represented some time before his death to his owTn
wife, in order to dissuade her, according to his maxims, from a
second marriage, at least in order to make her understand the obli-
gation she was under of never forming such a connexion with a
pagan. Allow me to borrow the same thought, and apply it to
my subject. It cannot be doubted that the piety of a soul the most
religious must be considerably hurt by a friend who leads a loose
and disorderly life, and is continually in your presence. You are
the depository of his sentiments, you hear him talk, you see him
act, and you insensibly accustom yourself to think like him, to talk
like him, and to act like him. This, it is true, is not done at
first, without some repugnance, and some struggle ; but that which
you could not think of seriously without horror, begins at last not
to create in you such displeasure, and forthwith is pleasing to you,
and bears you away. It cannot be doubted that the reserve, the
prudence, the good sense and virtue of a young person must totter
in time, and receive daily stabs, by those particular interviews
and privacies, in which he unbosoms himself to a worldling, who
always inspires him with his owrn hellish principles, and in a feAr
moments destroys the whole fruit of a pious education, and the

208 ON THE INTERCOURSE BETWEEN

constant labour of many years. Hence that maxim so universally
admitted, confirmed by so many proofs, and so common : tell me
your company, and I'll tell what you are.

Be that as it may, beloved hearers, the church hath done all in
her power to hinder the intercourse of the ungodly from being
prejudicial to her children : and what have you done to second her
cares ? Perhaps you fancy, that the company of a man immersed
in debauchery, and addicted to pleasure, is not so much to be ap-
prehended, as that of an infidel. But I, on the contrary, maintain
that a thousand idolaters together, conspired to pervert you, and
work your ruin, would not make so great an impression on you, as
one libertine with whom you are united by the ties of friendship
and good fellowship. Job preserved his innocence in the midst of
false gods, and of those who offered them incense and adoration.
Lot had fallen in Sodom amidst his fellow citizens. I proceed
farther, and 1 even hold, that the joint efforts of all the devils
together against you, would not be so dangerous and tempting a
lure, as the sight and presence of this one scandalous sinner. But
I can judge of your thoughts by the life you lead. You do not
fear these partizans of vice, because you are, yourselves, perhaps
as much already infected with it as they are ; and they cannot
harm you, because you have received from it all the detriment
with which you were threatened. The oracle of the Lord must
needs be verified in this manner ; for it wrould have been mistaken,
if living and conversing as you do with the wicked, you had pre-
served your innocence, and led a Christian life.

Alas ! Christians, we are astonished, at this day, to see the
world so corrupted as it is. We know not to what to attribute
the general laxity of manners among our youth ; we blush for so
many persons of the sex who blush at nothing ; we are amazed to
hear of the strange disorders that break forth every day in the
marriage state ; we learn with indignation to what a pitch impiety
is risen in the courts of princes ; shall I say it ? we behold with
horror vice gliding into the very sanctuary, and cleaving to the
very ministers of the altar. Of all which the most usual spring is
the company and converse of this profane world. Tins is what
serves as a bait for every immoderate desire, what fans the fire of
irregular passions, what forms iniquitous schemes and intrigues,
and what crowms with success the most abominable undertakings.
This is what makes the mighty yield, what infatuates the sage,

THE RIGHTEOUS AND THE WICKED. 209

and what corrupts the virgin. Let the father withhold his youth-
ful son from another young man, who is too assiduous in seeking
his company, and he shall see him walk in the right path. Let
the mother forbear to receive, or to pay, certain visits, and the
daughter, her constant companion, shall become a perfect model
of virtue. Let the Christian, of what denomination soever, break
with his friend, and I will almost answer for his salvation. But
how ! say you. To forsake a friend ! Yes, you must quit him ;
and although it were your eye you must pull it out. Why should
you cultivate a friendship so much to your own disadvantage?
And why should you set by that which must end in your own re-
probation ? Hath not our Saviour expressly told you, that who-
ever should not hate his own kindred, his brother and sister, nay,
his father and mother, would be unworthy of him : that is, whoever
should not be disposed to relinquish his nearest and dearest friends,
a brother or a sister, a father or a mother, so soon as some scandal
might be apprehended, wTould be guilty thenceforward, in the
eyes of God, and for ever excluded from the kingdom of heaven ?
Now if I am bound to behave in this manner to the authors of my
life, whenever I find that they are an obstacle to my salvation,
have those false friends, the accomplices of my iniquities, a right
to complain, when to keep from falling into the mighty gulf,
toward which they are leading me, I disengage myself from them,
and disclaim all farther association with them ? And should they
rally me, should they expostulate with me, should they use me
contemptuously, ought I to hearken rather to them, than to God
himself ? No, no, I ought to love nothing to the prejudice of my
soul ; and as nothing less than the interests of God and salvation
of my soul is at stake, it is wholly sufficient. Every thing else is
indifferent to me.

There are, however, beloved Christians, friendships which neces-
sary engagements oblige us to keep ; and, as God, by the necessity
of his existence, which includes a necessity of abiding with sinners,
is not at a loss to draw his own glory from it, and to employ for
their conversion the presence of his divinity ; so is it our duty to
be of service to the ungodly, who live among us, and to draw
advantage from the ungodly, among whom, through the necessity
of our state, we live. Another obligation, which I shall make the
subject of the second part.

Part II. There is nothing more certain, beloved Christians,

210 ON THE INTERCOURSE BETWEEN

than that although sin be essentially injurious to the majesty of
God, it is conducive, neverthless, to his greater glory. God would
not suffer it (as St. Chrysostom observes) if it were not capable of
contributing thereto by its very malignity ; and he would sooner
annihilate all the sinners in the world, than behold one of them,
from whom no tribute of honour could be drawn. As soon as a
man commits sin, (according to an excellent remark of St. Augus-
tin,) he hurts himself, but doth not hinder the goodness of God
from having effect. For God, who is admirable in his works, can
turn man's defects to advantage ; neither doth he suffer them, but
because he can improve them to good purpose. It is in this (con-
tinues this holy doctor, who treats this point with amazing
ability,) that the wisdom of the Creator is particularly conspicuous,
and seems to surpass even his omnipotence, because it is the nature
of omnipotence to create what is good, and of wisdom to find what
is good in evil, by referring it to God. Now this referring evil to
God, the supreme Being, hath something much more wonderful in
it, than the production of created beings, which hath more the
appearance of being natural to him. It should seem (adds he)
that God takes pleasure in doing the very reverse by the wicked,
in the use of things. For as their evil doings consist in the ill use
they make of his creatures, which are good ; in like manner, his
justice is seen in the good use he makes of their wills, which are
bad. A strange opposition between God and the sinner ! God
himself, (says St. Augustin again,) although he be the original and
primitive purity, is not pure with respect to the wicked, forasmuch
as they make him, every day, by blaspheming and outraging him,
the object of impurity. Whereas sin, which is substantially im-
purity, is purified, as I may say, with regard to God, forasmuch
as it becomes the cause of his glory. All these are sublime
thoughts, and perfectly worthy of their author.

1st. But he stops not there. To come to the proof, and make
good minutely these general propositions, only observe, (continues
he,) my brethren, how all the wicked, scandalous, and reprobate
people in the world, concur admirably, and contrary to the inten-
tions of mankind, to glorify God. Consider, first, all those who
are deprived of the light of the gospel, and left destitute of the
gifts of faith. Cast your eyes upon idolatrous pagans, obstinate
heretics, rebellious schismatics, and obdurate Jews. Doth not
Almighty God make use of them for the carrying of his great

THE RIGHTEOUS AND THE WICKED. 211

designs into execution ? Is he not wont to make use of infidels
to work the wonders of his grace, and to make them known?
What is there greater, or more effectual, in order to establish the
truth of religion, than a world converted by twelve fishermen ? Is
he not wont to make use of heretics for the explaining of doctrinal
points, and to confirm us more and more in the true belief? Never
was the faith more clearly expounded, than when it was attacked ;
nor hath anything ever afforded more room for sifting out and
discovering the truth than error. Is he not wont to make use of
schismatics as a plain and obvious proof of the perpetuity and
unshaken firmness of his church ? She always, notwithstanding
the division of her members, maintains herself in the integrity of
one body, while the factions that successively make head against
her, successively perish and die away. Do not the Jews, that sad
remnant of God's people, that weak posterity of a well-beloved
nation, seem to remain upon earth only in order to serve as wit-
nesses to our Saviour, ascertaining his person by their scriptures,
verifying his mysteries by their prophecies, and revealing his gospel
by a comparison of it with their law ? It is an ill grain sown in
God's field ; but observe how many different ways it conduces
to his glory.

The case is similar with respect to the ungodly, in a general
sense. God can convert them to a thousand purposes, in order to
make manifest his divine attributes, and for the general good of
man. They are the scourges of his justice, to punish sinners :
they are the instruments of his mercy, to try the saints. When
Jerusalem was ransacked under the command of Titus, it was God
that made use of Roman ambition to exercise his vengeance on the
Jews. It is true, the ambition of the Romans was criminal, but
the chastisement of God was just. What did the bloody tyrants
and persecutors of the Christian name do heretofore ? By trying
to destroy the faithful, they multiplied them, gave confessors to
Jesus Christ, filled the church with martyrs, and peopled heaven
with the predestinate.

It is, therefore, true, that Almighty God makes use of sinners
for the increase of his own glory, and for our salvation ; and that
he never wants means to make himself proper amends for the
injury offered him by the malignity of men and sin, which he
repairs by sin itself, and by the malignity of those who commit it.
This is the model we are bound to follow, if the necessity of our

212 ON THE INTERCOURSE BETWEEN

state engage us in a communication with the ungodly : at least
after the example of Almighty God, it imports us to turn it to
our own advantage. This we may do, when we do not seek them,
and when it is not incumbent on us to shun their converse. For
as God (says St. Ambrose) finds wherewithal in sinners to display
the glory of his infinite perfections, we find in them wherewithal
to acquire and practise the most eminent virtues. And, indeed,
let the sinner with whom I live, do what he will, if I am really
influenced by the Spirit of God, it is a wholesome lesson for me,
and a fair opportunity of becoming a saint. If he raise persecu-
tion against me, he furnishes me with matter for patience ; if he
declare himself my enemy, he purifies my charity ; if he be hard
upon me, it is a fit subjection for mortification. Doth his pride
make him look down upon me with scorn, contempt, or haughti-
ness ? He teaches me to endeavour at a modest comportment.
Doth he suffer his temper to rise into a storm, and the workings
of his wrath to becloud his reason ? He proves that I am meek
and humble of heart. Doth he fall into shameful excesses and sins ?
He moves my compassion, and excites my zeal. I say more ; and
what I say is taken from St. Gregory. According to the laws by
which all sublunary things are governed, never could a righteous
man arrive to Christian perfection, if God, by a disposition of his
holy providence, did not sometimes oblige him to pass his days
with sinners. The reason is this : it is in such a society and inter-
course he must learn to wear off human imperfections. And how
could he (says the same father) become a proficient in the way of
virtue, were there no such thing as a sinner upon earth ? In what
could he practise that heroical charity, of which Jesus Christ hath
set us the example, and which he commands in such strong terms,
if there were no offence or injustice, no slander or calumny, to be
forgiven ? Where would be the merit of perseverance and con-
stancy, if there were no contradictions and crosses to be borne, no
sarcasms and taunts to be endured, no attacks and snares of liber-
tines to be withstood ?

There is nothing more certain, dear Christian hearers, than
that if we had the zeal we ought to have for our salvation, and
were willing and desirous to make greater progress in the way of
piety and evangelical perfection, one of the most powerful means
of raising our hearts to God, would be the presence and sight of
so many sinners, with whom we have, one way or other, continual

THE RIGHTEOUS AND THE WICKED. 213

dealings. What motive of gratitude to the Father of mercies, for
keeping us clear of all those crimes, to which we are witnesses,
and which we lament ! What inducement to humility, and a con-
tinual attention to ourselves, since we are, ourselves liable to fall
into them every moment ; to charity for our neighbour, since
even in his iniquity he is God's minister, and the executioner
of his decrees, to chastise and reform us ; to penance and resigna-
tion, since the more we are thwarted, the more we may make
atonement and satisfaction to the divine justice ! But what comes
to pass ? That we invert the whole order of things, and turn
these means of salvation into causes of our perdition. The intent
of divine Providence is, that our intercourse with sinners should
make us holy, and yet it is the very thing that perverts us.
Almighty God draws from it his glory, and we convert it to our
ruin. By it he requires more and more of that external and acci-
dental holiness which we wish him every day, and we become by
it more and more criminal every day.

Give me leave, Christians, to unbosom myself, and lay before
you my most secret and hidden sentiments. It wounds my heart
when I hear, at the sacred tribunal of penance, a man of the world
bewail his situation, as if he would vindicate the evil practices of
his life, by the necessity under which he lies of remaining in the
midst of a wicked world, and of keeping up connexions and culti-
vating friendships, which it is not in his power to break ; or when
I hear a woman of the world lament her sad condition, and tell me,
in doleful accent, that all the disorders of her soul arise from her
being, by duty, engaged to a husband without religion, without
check to his passions, without restraint in his debaucheries. What
answer can I make them ? I pity their case, not on account of
the supposed unhappiness of their state, inasmuch as it is the state
to which it hath pleased the divine Providence to call them ; but
on account of the ill use they make of their state, contrary to the
views and designs of God, who placed them in it. I pity this wo-
man, not on account of what she suffers, but of the manner in which
she suffers, as she doth not reflect, or doth not know, that this hus-
band is a chosen means in the unerring council of eternal wisdom,
to try her faithfulness, and save her soul. Now, if this be true,
(which is the opinion of the best divines,) is she not extremely to
be pitied, to suffer all the inconveniencies of a hard and disagreeable

214 ON THE INTERCOURSE BETWEEN

fellowship, without the merit of it ; to turn the remedy into poison,
and God's graces into occasions of offending him ?

But if I were placed in another state, I should labour without
difficulty to save my soul. So you say, beloved hearer ; but I can
assure you, that in this respect you are much mistaken, for without
God, you cannot labour to save your soul. Now God will not
have you to labour for it in any other place, or by any other means.
This is the way he hath marked out for you. But you urge, it is
impossible to resist so many, and such bad examples, and remain
unhurt by their contagion. A mistaken notion, beloved Chris-
tians. It is impossible, when you throw yourselves into the dan-
ger, against the orders of Almighty God, and in opposition to your
state. But if it be for the honour of God, by the call of God,
according to the will of God ; if it be by the rules of evangelical
prudence, and the Avise precautions it requires, that which for others
would be contagious, is no longer so for you ; and that which would
overwhelm them in the depth of wickedness, will raise you to a sub-
lime degree of holiness. For it belongs to the providence of God to
afford you, on such occasions, assistance, strength, and understand-
ing ; and this he always grants. Now if, with the assistance of God,
the lights he communicates, and the force and vigour which his
grace diffuses through a Christian soul, you stand unshaken and
firm amidst the throng of sinners ; if you resist their solicitations ;
if you are not staggered, either by their promises or by their me-
naces, or by their flattery or by their scorn ; if, notwithstanding
the headlong torrent of example, which carries others away by mil-
lions, you keep attached to the rules of duty, and to the observance
of the law, in the various conflicts, which, on that account, you are
necessitated to maintain, what spiritual riches do you heap up in
the presence of God ! and with what speed do you make progress
in the rough and thorny way of righteousness ! The height of the
wicked man's iniquity, according to the testimony of the prophet,
is "to have dealt unjustly in the land of saints." Isaias xxvi. It
redoubles his malignancy, and disqualifies him for seeing the glory
of the Lord, and for being received in the heavenly mansions :
" He shad not see the glory of God." Isaias xxvi.

Thus spoke Isaias ; and thence, by a consequence not less evi-
dent, I conclude, that the height of the good man's holiness is, to
be steadily righteous in the midst of sinners. Moses, in the court

THE RIGHTEOUS AND THE WICKED. 115

of an infidel prince, had always, according to a fine expression of
St. Paul, the invincible present to his mind. St. Lewis, on the
throne, shut his eyes to all the splendor and magnificence of human
pomps ; neither did he, amidst the licentiousness of arms, and din
of Avar, swerve an iota from the obedience he owed the King of
kings. Men, united by the ties of interest, with men devoid of
faith or honesty, have kept their hands clean of all injustice, re-
fusing to take part in their evil doings. Women, in houses where
God's worship was scarcely thought of, have proceeded incessantly
in their pious practices, and paying no regard to what was said,
and to provoking usage of every kind, made no abatement in their
holy zeal, or defalcation in the works of godliness. This is what
enhances the value of their faithfulness, and gives it a peculiar cha-
racteristic. This is the reason why they shall receive so glorious
a praise from the mouth of our Saviour, and why he will tell them
what he told his apostles : " Ye are they who continued with me
in my temptations." Luke xxii. While others forsook me, be-
trayed my cause, committed outrage against my name, transgressed
my law, ye are they who walked with steadfastness in my footsteps.
To remain with me, and be steadfast, when there is nothing to suf-
fer for me, when no inducement to quit me offers, when everything
conspires to draw the hearts of Christians to my service, is the
effect of ordinary virtue. But to remain with me, and be steadfast
in temptation, when many victories must be obtained to that end ;
to remain with me, and be steadfast, notwithstanding so many trials,
oppositions, and contradictions ; notwithstanding custom and all
worldly considerations, is a manifest token of a lively faith, a solid
attachment, a pure love, an heroical perseverance, and for which I
accordingly reserve all my rewards ; "Ye are they who continued
with me in my temptations."

2ndly. Would you have thought, beloved Christians, that the
sinners would have procured such great advantages for the righ-
teous, in things respecting their salvation ? But learn, moreover,
how the righteous must, on their part, contribute towards the sal-
vation of sinners. We find in Daniel a contest of a very singular
nature between two angels. This contest is not, as Abbe Rupert
would have it, between a beatified angel and one of the reprobated
spirits ; but according to the interpretation of all the fathers, and
particularly St. Jerom, between two blessed angels that enjoy the
same glory, and pay attendance at the throne of God. The first,

216 ON THE INTERCOURSE BETWEEN

which is the tutulary angel of Judea, is desirous that the Jews may
quit the kingdom of Persia with all possible speed, because they
are in danger of corrupting their morals, by a communication with
the idolatrous people of Babylon ; but, on the contrary, the guar-
dian angel of Babylon begs, that they may not seek another land,
because by their conversation and good example, they may edify
the people, and bring them over to the religion of the true God.
In fact, three kings of that great empire had openly renounced the
worship of idols, and offered incense to the God of Israel, as it is
reported in the Book of Esdras. Would you wish to know what
this disagreement of these two ministers of heaven implied ? Two
wills in God, (replies St. Gregory,) but conditional wills, which per-
fectly accord, however dissonant they may appear : one, which
obliges the righteous to fly the company of sinners, and this we learn
from the prayer of the angel that spoke in favour of the Jewish
people ; the other, which requires that the righteous co-operate to
the salvation of sinners, whenever they happen by a lawful engage-
ment to be detained among them ; and in this view it was, that the
angel of Persia solicited for the Babylonians. For this, beloved
Christians, is the rule wre must follow. God will not have his
own presence or ours be unprofitable to the ungodly, but he wills
that we shall labour for their conversion. There is no doubt but
they are the objects of his care ; and because it is impossible he
should cease to be with sinners, so it is impossible he should cease
to use fit means for the reformation of their lives. He invites
them by his promises, he prevails with them by his benefits, he
warns them by his threats, he urges them by his chastisements ;
his wisdom, his goodness, his justice, his divine perfections are
employed in this. And what ought particularly to surprise you
is, that notwithstanding his prescience of the future and infallible
loss of many, yet he is aiding them with the same assiduity and
care, as if he had no foreknowledge of their misfortune. An ad-
mirable example this, which represents to us one of the most
essential, and, at the same time, least known duties of a Christian !
For as it behoves us, beloved Christians, to profit by sinners, so
we should, if it lies in our power, be useful to them. This duty
is both general and particular. Take notice : a general duty,
which regards indiscriminately all mankind, and which the law of
charity imposes on us all. The Holy Ghost tells us, that Al-
mighty God " hath commanded every one concerning his neigh-

THE RIGHTEOUS AND THE WICKED. 21 7

bour as necessity requires, or opportunity offers. Hence arises the
rigorous obligation of affording relief to the poor in their misery.
Now if charity obligeth us to compassionate the temporal necessity
of the poor, how much greater an obligation must it lay on us of
compassionating the spiritual necessity of a sinner ! If, in the dis-
tresses of our brother, where the point is concerning the body only,
and a mortal life, we cannot forsake him, and neglect to relieve
him, without forfeiting the love of God by losing charity to our
neighbour, how is it possible we should preserve both the one and
the other, while we suffer souls, redeemed by the precious blood of
Jesus Christ, to perish through our fault ? While we withhold
assistance from them, which we do not want the means of procur-
ing them, and which might probably save them from eternal death
and damnation ? While we neglect to give them advice, instruc-
tion, and example, which might recall them from devious paths,
direct their steps, and put them in the way of a blessed immorta-
lity ? For among these sinners, (as St. Augustin observes,) there
are whom God hath predestinated to be one day numbered among
his friends and saints. We do not know them, nor do they know
themselves, because at present the elect and reprobate are indis-
criminately blended together. But this is the reason why our
charity should be universal, and why our care should extend to all,
that the views of God may be accomplished, and that they in whom
he intends to work the wonders of his grace, may not be destitute
of assistance, and the means of salvation he had prepared for them.
For this reason it was, that the apostles exhorted the faithful to
edify, by their conduct, idolaters and pagans. For this reason it
was, that St. Peter expressly recommended to good livers so to
demean themselves, that " evil doers, by the good works which
they should behold, might glorify God." 1 Pet. ii. But we are
prepossessed with a false maxim upon this head, supposing it suf-
ficient to employ our thoughts about ourselves. We say, like
Cain, when the Lord demanded of him an account of Abel, " Am
I my brother's keeper ?" Gen. iv. Am I obliged to watch over
this or that person ? With what authority am I invested, or
what have I to do but to lead a life of ease and comfort, without
examining how others live ? There are, it must be owned, rules of
prudence to be observed. It is not proper, as did the servants in
the gospel, to pluck the tares up by the roots, and inconsiderately
follow the impulse of a blind and precipitate zeal, regardless of

218 ON THE INTERCOURSE BETWEEN

time, place, and circumstances. This laudable prudence, however,
when well employed, is apt to degenerate into false wisdom, das-
tardly timidity, worldly consideration, slothful indifference, and
prevarication.

In regard to the particular duty belonging to certain states, tell
me whose duty it is to correct a vicious youth, borne away by the
fire of unruly passions, if not a vigilant and wise father's ? to cor-
rect a girl attached to the ways of the world, and engaged in
worldly intrigues, if not a careful and regular mother's ? to correct
servants that curse and swear, and are given to drunkenness, if
not a master's on whom they depend, and who possesses the means
of putting a stop to their wickedness ? Whose business is it to
reform the abuses that creep even into the church of God, and
spread among Christians, if not Christ's ministers ? to clear the
town of vices and disorders that prevail in it, if not the magis-
trate's ? to regulate the court, and make holiness reign in it, if
not the prince's ? But where do we see this zeal, and how shall
we have it for others, since we want it for ourselves ? But what is
more strange, and what ought still more to put us to confusion, is,
that in every other thing but that wrhich I am speaking of, wre are
never wanting in zeal for the amendment of our neighbour. Every
the least occasion excites it to a degree of violence. Let a young
gentleman betray a little hebetude of mind, and rather a slowness
of capacity, in the course of his education ; let a young lady be
heedless about her walk, her air, her dress, her mien ; let a servant
be guilty of some forgetfulness, or a slight failure in the execution
of his duty, it is quite sufficient to make the most sharp and bitter
reproaches ring in their ears. But when the point relates only to
the salvation of their souls, these zealots in worldly matters are no
way affected, and scarce do they deign sometimes to bestow a
thought upon it.

This duty is still more incumbent on libertine livers themselves,
and on sinners, whenever they have the good fortune to see the
wretchedness of their state, and to resume a penitential life. They
ought never to lose the remembrance of the injury offered to God
by sinning against him, and of the harm done to their neighbour
by giving him scandal. This twofold prospect excited all the zeal
of the inspired psalmist. And tell me, Christians, what can be
more effectual and powerful to awaken and animate yours ? If 1
had wrongfully taken from a man the property which he possessed*

TUB RIGHTEOUS AND THE WICKED. 219

and which belonged to him, I should condemn myself to make
reparation for the damage he had sustained ; if I had hurt his
credit, or reputation, nothing could excuse me from making suit-
able satisfaction. I have committed a great oifence against the
majesty of my God ; I ought, therefore, to do every thing in my
power toward the re-establishing of his glory. I have drawn, by
my bad example, my brother into that worst of evils, which is sin ;
I have made him lose the most precious of all precious things,
which is the innocence of his soul, and the purity of his conscience.
I ought by consequence to leave no stone unturned to get him out
of the gulf into which I have plunged him, and to cure the spiri-
tual wounds of his heart. But if my cares can be no longer of
service to those I have led astray, they not being in a condition to
profit by them, how great a motive at least have I to make com-
pensation for their loss, by bringing others, as occasion offers, to
God's service ! Now the means of doing this are set down by the
royal prophet, by showing us what he did himself, and what it is
our duty to do : "I will teach the wicked thy ways, and the
impious shall be converted to thee." Ps. 1. It is not enough that
I return to thee ; I would fain bring sinners with me to thy
service. I will teach them thy holy ways, and I will endeavour
to gain them over, both by words and edifying life. I have not
only, O my God, dishonoured you by my own transgressions, but
by the transgressions of those whom my example hath drawn into,
or confirmed in evil. I will not, therefore, be content to glorify
your name myself, but will furthermore endeavour to glorify it by
their instruction, their reformation, their conversion. For this
purpose, I shall have, O Lord, precautions to take, opportunities
to watch, obstacles to surmount. But notwithstanding all these
difficulties, nothing shall cool the ardour of my pursuits, or depress
my spirits, because I am convinced it is a just reparation I owe
you as well for the glory I have robbed you of, as for the injury
done to so many souls perverted by my means : "I will teach the
wicked thy ways, and the impious shall be converted to thee."

Let this, Christians, be your principle. Then shall the tares,
so far as you are concerned, be turned into good grain. The in-
tercourse which you hold with sinners, by being of service to them,
will be of advantage to yourselves. You will save your brethren
and yourselves too. You will hoard up treasures of grace for this
life, and merit the eternal bliss of the other.

p2

220

SERMON XI.

ON ADVERSITY AND PROSPERITY.

For the Fourth Sunday after Epiphany ; or the Twenty-fifth after Pentecosl

" JVhen he was entered into a ship, his disciples followed him.
And behold there arose a great tempest in the sea, insomuch thai
the ship was covered with the waters ; but he was asleep. And
his disciples came to him, and awoke him, saying, Lord save us ;
we perish. And he saith unto them: Why are ye so fearful, O
ye of little faith !" Matt. viiL

This, beloved Christians, is a natural emblem of what passes
every day before our eyes. The Holy Ghost, it should seem, by
sketching it out to us in the gospel, was desirous to represent to
us one of the greatest and most mysterious instances of God's
providence toward mankind, and to make it the subject of our
instruction. The disciples of Jesus Christ, that is, the righteous
and elect of God, live in the world, which we may consider as a
tempestuous sea, in which they are embarked by the orders of
Providence. The Almighty is with them, and never quits them.
In all their ways he follows them, and upholds them ; but in other
respects, to judge by appearances, one would imagine that on a
thousand occasions he keeps away from them, forgets them, aban-
dons them, is in their regard, as it were, asleep. He suffers them
to be surprised, to be tossed and beaten by violent storms, to be
exposed to sharp and troublesome temptations, to be afflicted, and
in some sort overpowered, by the miseries of this life. Now who
could believe that a special Providence watched over their persons ?
or at least who would not think that this same Providence is buried,
as it were, in a profound sleep, and knows nothing of their wants,
particularly when we see that the ungodly prosper upon the earth,
pass their days in a calm, hold the first places, abound with super-
fluities, and are possessed of every thing that is called fortune, or

ON ADVERSITY AND PROSPERITY. 221

human advantage ? It was in contemplation of this division, so
surprising, and so unconformable to our ideas, that David cried
out, and said to God: " Arise, why sleepest thou, O Lord." Ps.
xliii. And it is in the same spirit that we say ourselves, like the
apostles, " Lord, save us, we perish." Where are you, O Lord ?
We perish, and you forsake us. Every kind of evil is heaped upon
us, and you are insensible to our sufferings. But to this, Chris-
tians, no answer is made on the part of God, than that which Jesus
Christ made to his disciples in their fright and consternation :
" Why are ye so fearful, O ye of little faith ?" Where is the
faith and confidence which you ought to place in your God ?
What have you to fear, while I am with you ? This, beloved
hearers, is a mystery of Providence, which I am going to make
the subject of the present discourse, and in the nature of which it
is of the utmost importance that you be well instructed. It is not
to sinners only that I am to speak, but to faithful souls, to the
predestinate of the Lord, to those who make it their business to
serve him, and who, notwithstanding, see all the scourges of heaven
fall upon them, while those addicted to the pride of life, pass their
days in pleasure and in joy. To encourage and comfort them
upon this head, is what I propose.

The faith of Christians hath been disturbed in all ages, and their
confidence in the divine goodness slackened, by seeing the wicked
in prosperity and ease, while the righteous groaned under a heavy
load of adversity and hardships. This partition, in appearance so
unjust, hath been at all times, as I may call it, the stumbling-
block upon which many fell descanting on the order of Providence.
For, hence sinners have taken occasion to look down superciliously
upon the righteous ; hence the righteous have slackened their pace
in the way of virtue ; hence the most godly have been often
tempted to admit doubts to the prejudice of their faith. Hearken
to David : " As for me," says he, " my feet were almost moved,
my steps had almost slipped." Ps. lxxii. I confess that my faith
began to stagger ; and on how strong and solid soever a basis my
hope was fixed, I could perceive myself begin to sink and yield.
The reason is, that an emotion of zeal and indignation arose in my
heart, at the sight of sinners who taste the sweets and comforts of
peace, who succeed in all their designs and undertakings, who have
all conveniencies for themselves and their families, who experience
no kind of want in life ; " I was provoked at the foolish, when I

222 ON ADVERSITY AND PROSPERITY.

beheld the peace of the wicked. Ps. lxxii. Doth God know what
passes in this world, and how can I believe that he hath an eye to
it ? Libertines and impious men are the most happy, the most
honoured, and the most wealthy : " They are the ungodly who
prosper in the world, and increase their riches." Ps. lxxii. Whence
I almost conclude, (adds the same prophet,) that therefore it was
to no purpose to preserve my heart in innocence, and my hands
clear of all injustice: "And I said, I have cleansed my heart in
vain, and washed my hands among the innocent." Ps. lxxii. Thus
spoke the most holy king of God's people, and this is what the
pagans were wont to reproach the faithful withal. What God do
you serve? said these idolaters. Where is his justice and his
goodness to you ? He sees you poor and distressed, and he takes
no heed of you. Is it because he wants either the power or the
will ? If it be inability, he is no God ; neither is he a God, if it
be insensibility. You natter yourselves with the hope of immor-
tality in another world ; but what likelihood that a God whom
you fancy so powerful and so good, as to raise you from the dead,
would not afford you relief in this present life ? Nevertheless,
you forego all sorts of pleasure ; you will not resort to our plays
and spectacles ; you suffer hunger and thirst ; you undergo pa-
tiently the most rigorous torments. Whence it follows, that you
enjoy neither the present life, nor that future imaginary one which
you expect.

To this the fathers made various answers. Most of them denied
the supposition, in order to prove the direct contrary. For they
maintained that the righteous are never unhappy upon earth, and
that the ungodly never taste true happiness. Know then, (says
St. Augustin,) that God never suffers the wicked to be happy.
Nevertheless, (says he,) they pass for such ; but they are thought
to be happy, because they who think them so, know not in what
true happiness consists. We must not judge by a certain exterior.
Some (says St. Ambrose) have all the appearance of joy in their
hearts at the very time that their hearts are rent with a thousand
anxieties. In my apprehension, they are very easy ; but according
to their own ideas, and in fact, they are miserable. Thus, I say,
the father spoke on this topic. But, beloved Christians, I consi-
der the case in a quite different light. Let us not deny that the
ungodly and sinners are in possession of human joys, and let us
allow that the righteous are as wretched in this world as world-

ON ADVERSITY AND PROSPERITY. 223

lings would have it. Taking this for granted, I maintain that we
are greatly to blame, if we diffide in the divine Providence, which
hath pre-ordained things to be ; and to convince you of it, I ad-
vance two propositions, which include whatever is most solid
respecting this subject, and which shall make the division of this
discourse.

First, then, I say, that God doth nothing in all this that should,
or that can slacken our faith.

Secondly : I go farther, and I say that the order of God's pro-
vidence in all this hath in it wherewithal to confirm our faith.

I shall endeavour to throw what light is needful on both the one
and the other. Neither must you imagine, that I mean to enter-
tain you with vain subtilties. I have proofs to produce equally
plain, obvious, and affecting.

Part I. St. Augustin tells us, that the secrets of God ought
to fill us with respect, ought to make us attentively revolve them
in our minds, and, as far as the humility of the faith will allow,
ought to make us inquire into the nature of them ; but that they
should never meet with opposition in our minds, and that it is
not our province to pass judgment on them, or to contradict them.
This, beloved hearers, is a very Christian, and most important
maxim : for, one of the greatest irregularities of our mind is, to
rise in opposition to anything that seems contradictory to our own
notion of things ; and from this principle it is, that all the errors
into which we fall, with regard to God, derive. Now mind the
manner in which I use the holy doctor s maxim, in order to make
good my first proposition, on so unequal a division of good and
evil in this life, whereby the righteous are oppressed with hard-
ships, while the wicked prosper. In this I maintain there kis
nothing that ought to disturb our faith. And, in reality, though
I were not able to discover the reason of God's will, in this respect ;
though it were an abyss in which I saw nothing, but in which my
reasoning faculty was lost, it ought to have no ill effect upon my
faith ; and all I should have to do would be, to cry out with St.
Paul, " O the depth !" and own it is a secret of God's providence,
which I am bound to adore, but not allowed to fathom. Thus,
although I am unable to conceive the august and incomprehen-
sible mystery of one God in three persons, I do not upon that
account suppose I have a right t® call it in question, or am allowed
to conclude that this supreme Being is above the reach of all

224 OX ADVERSITY AND PROSPERITY.

human understanding ; neither am I for that the less attached to
my belief. And why shoidd not I do the same with regard to the
point in question ? When the point is concerning the providence
of God, and his secret disposition in the government of the world,
why should I doubt, or make myself uneasy, because it is beyond
my comprehension ?

I have a thousand proofs to convince me that there is a Provi-
dence in the universe, and that whatever happens upon earth, is by
the divine appointment. I need no more than to open my eyes ;
I need no more than to view the firmament ; I need no more than
to contemplate all the works of the creation : there is not one of
them that doth not bear testimony to this truth, and that is not a
sufficient demonstration for me. The pagans and the barbarians
have acknowledged it ; and I should be more an infidel than the
infidels themselves, if I refused to pay submission to it. Neverthe-
less, against all these positive testimonies, a difficulty arises in my
mind. If there be a Providence, (say I to myself,) how can it
suffer the righteous to be oppressed, and the wicked to be exalted ?
This makes me uneasy. Now I ask you, Christians, is it reason-
able or just, that for this one difficulty, I should depart from a
principle of faith so infallible, and so solidly established, as is that
of a Providence ? And because in the conduct of this Providence
there is one point which seems obscure, I should look upon it as
doubtful, and even dare absolutely to reject it ? Is it not more
reasonable, that I should oppose to this difficulty, which embar-
rasses me, all the maxims of my faith, and all the light of my rea-
son ; and that, not having sufficient ability to found the depth of
the mystery of this Providence, seemingly so rigorous with regard
to the righteous, and so liberal with regard to sinners, I should be
content to come one day to the knowledge of it in its origin, that is,
in God himself?

And this was also the royal prophet's way of reasoning, after
confessing, in the presence of God, that he understood nothing of
this procedure, and that a treatment so little conformable to the
merits of the righteous, and the wickedness of sinners, surpassed
all his knowledge, and confused his ideas. I am full of hopes,
(says he,) O Lord, that in this you will discover to me the regular
process of your judgments, and that you will show me, as in a mir-
ror, the secret reasons which induced you to dispose things in this
manner. Then shall I clearly see why you suffered that righteous

ON ADVERSITY AND PROSPERITY. 225

man to be aggrieved and persecuted, and why innocence and virtue
were overborne and trod upon by the credit of the wicked ; why
this man of worth had no success in his undertakings, and why
that worldly man, without faith or conscience, succeeded in every
design he formed ; why this pious and virtuous woman passed her
days in bitterness of soul, and afflicting disquietudes, and why
this other, addicted to the world, and abandoned to her passions,
led a comfortable life, in the lap of ease, and surrounded with plea-
sures. You will discover to us, O my God, the latent springs of
all this, and by one clear ray of light with which you will illumi-
nate our minds, you will dispel the doubts with which our under-
standings are now clouded, against our will, in all that regards
your adorable Providence. I fancied to myself, that by dint of
reflection and consideration, I should be able, in this life, to clear
up these difficulties, and dive into the impenetrable counsels of
your wisdom ; but I was much mistaken, and easily perceived that
I lost my labour in unprofitable researches. "Whence I concluded
that I must wait "until I enter into the sanctuary of God, and
have understanding in their last things." Ps. lxxii. In this man-
ner, that holy king reasoned, and it was the Spirit of God which
inspired his mind with that sentiment.

But in this respect, Christians, we are not reduced solely to the
submission and obedience required by faith. Concerning this mys-
tery, we have wherewithal to satisfy reason, as much as any other
mystery, and perhaps more ; and upon that account we are utterly
inexcusable, when we give ourselves uneasiness, and indulge de-
spondency, because we see every day the righteous afflicted, and
sinners wallow in all the conveniencies and comforts of life. For
we ourselves can find good reasons to vindicate perfectly the ways
of God, and to be persuaded, that by acting in this manner, he
hath acted wisely. Now, if with an understanding full of error
and darkness, I see that it is reasonable, ought I not to be con-
vinced, that Almighty God hath a thousand reasons infinitely more
solid and elevated, which I do not see ? And ought not these rea-
sons, which I do not see, but which I may guess at from my own,
to calm my soul, and give life and spirit to my drooping thoughts ?
All, therefore, that remains for me is, to follow the advice of St.
Augustin, and to endeavour, not to know thoroughly, but only
to have a glimpse of, the secrets of God, to the end, that so much
as I may perceive of them, may teach me to judge of what escapes

226 ON ADVERSITY AND PROSPERITY.

my sight, and that both the one and the other may confirm my
resolution, and add strength to my confidence.

But what do I perceive of these secrets of God, and what rea-
sons can I give for a distribution that seems to clash with reason ?
In answer to your query, beloved Christians, and without circum-
locution, or a long discussion, I shall give you such as occurs to
me. That God would try his chosen servants, and give them an
opportunity"of showing their faithfulness by their confidence. That
God (according to the comparison of David) would purify them by
the fire of tribulation, as gold is purified in the crucible. That God
would secure their salvation, and screen them from the inevitable
danger which is ever connected with worldly prosperity. That
God, (says St. Bernard,) by an amiable violence, would force them,
in some measure, to unite themselves with him, by mixing bitter-
ness with everything else, and placing before them no object that
is not creative of disgust. That God would continually administer
to them a cause of conflict, to the end it might be, at the same
time, a continual cause of victory for them, and consequently of
merit. That righteous as they are, they still are indebted to
Almighty God on sundry accounts ; whereas, the just man, (as So-
lomon speaks) falls seven times a day ; but that Almighty God had
rather punish them as a father, not as a judge ; and accordingly
that he chastises them in this world, according to his mercy, that
he may not punish them in the next, according to his justice.

Should we stop here, Christians, and proceed no farther into
the designs of God, what more were requisite to uphold the faith
of the righteous man ? And were not one of these reasons suffi-
cient to shield him, and strengthen him against the sharpest
assaults ? Let God, therefore, command according as he pleases, let
him destroy and overturn, let him debase and humble, let him
strike according to his all-perfect will, the righteous man will have
nothing to give but benedictions ; and should he but utter the
least complaint, God might reproach him in the words of our
Saviour to St. Peter, " Man of little faith, why didst thou doubt ?"
Infatuated man ! leave the whole to God ; he loves you, and knows
what is wanting to you. If he treats you with rigour, it is a seem-
ing rigour ; and how heavy soever you may feel the weight of his
ami, it is the effect of his love.

Affecting thoughts, and powerful motives these of a truly Chris-
tian consolation ! In so vast and numerous an audience as this, it

ON ADVERSITY AND PROSPERITY. 227

is hardly possible there should not be many of those souls whom
Almighty God loves, and whom, notwithstanding, he leaves
to the crosses and vexations of the world. Now my duty obliges
me to give you a relish for these truths. My duty obliges me,
beloved Christians, to raise by that means your sinking spirits, in
a situation (into which either poverty, or humiliation, or ill usage
may have thrown you) which overpowers you with sorrow, and
which renders your existence so irksome and painful. My duty
obliges me, as a gospel minister, to point out the means to you of
finding the necessary relief in your faith. For my business is not
merely to upbraid you with your transgressions, and to fill your
minds with the salutary fear of eternal judgments. These things
I have done occasionally ; these I still do : nor can I thank heaven
enough for the attention you give to my words, or rather to the
words of God, which I utter. But on the other hand, my duty
obliges me to comfort you in your troubles ; and as I hold the place
of Jesus Christ, who speaks to you by my mouth, and whose am-
bassador I am, " We are ambassadors for Christ," (1 Cor. v. ;) my
duty obliges me to say so you, what that divine Saviour said to
the people : " Come unto me, all ye that labour, and are burthened
and I will relieve you." Matt. xi. Come, ye melancholy and
afflicted souls ; ye who groan under the heavy weight of human
woes, and in the agonies of grief. You meet with nothing in this
world but contempt and scorn, and you daily experience its injus-
tice. The most licentious and vicious rule and domineer over the
most righteous ; and this is what racks your hearts, and fills your
souls with bitterness. But come, I say it again, and without chang-
ing your condition, I will relieve you. I am but a weak man, like
yourselves, nay, weaker than yourselves ; but with the grace of
my God, with the unction of his word, and the maxims of his gos-
pel, I have wherewithal to make you firm and unshaken amidst a
thousand crosses, losses, and misfortunes ; I have wherewithal to
awaken all your faith, and wherewithal to animate all your hope ;
wherewithal to show you there is nothing desirable in whatever is
most alluring in this world ; and wherewithal to teach you the pre-
cious advantage of a state in which God watches over you with the
greater care and love, as he seems less to love you and to regard
your interest.

1st. For, to resume in order, and the better to lay open what I
have not as yet but slightly touched upon, and what requires and

228 ON ADVERSITY AND PROSPERITY.

deserves your most serious reflection, as it must be a treasure and
inexhaustible store of patience for you. I say, that if God treats
the righteous man with a seeming severity, and suffers him to la-
bour under a load of hardships, it is to try him. Thus he explains
himself in a thousand places of the inspired writings, where he tells
us expressly, that it is one of the laws of his providence, and that
therefore it is, he lets his scourges fall more heavily on those who
serve him, than on those who do not. Insomuch, that affliction,
in the sacred text, is commonly called trial, or temptation ; and
according to the same language of scripture, what the divine Spi-
rit denominates temptation, is nothing but affliction. This is the
noble answer which one of the most zealous defenders of the Chris-
tian law (Minutius Felix) gave idolaters and infidels, when they
reproached him with the extreme dereliction and want in which
they saw the faithful ; and they pretended to draw from thence, a
consequence against either the power or the mercy of the God we
adore. You are mistaken, (says he,) our God wants neither means
nor goodness to relieve us. But he examines each of us in par-
ticular, by withholding from us the good things of this life, and
keeping us in adversity. He searches our hearts, and interrogates
them by sufferings and afflictions, as if he should say to the righ-
teous man, " Declare yourself, and show me what you are. I have
not known it as yet completely, and I mean to be told it by your-
self. So long as you enjoyed felicity upon earth, and passed your
days in a calm and peace, you told me, it is true, you would stea-
dily and constantly persevere in my service ; but at that time there
was no relying on your asseverations. In affluence and prosperity,
you could not well know, or judge with any degree of precision,
to which you were devoted, to me or to yourself. But now, that
cross accidents and misfortunes have disturbed the tranquillity of
your life ; now that you are oppressed with bodily infirmities, that
you are fallen into distress, that you are surrounded, it should seem,
with every kind of evil, it is a situation in which you may give me
assurances of your faith, and in which I may rely upon your word.
If, therefore, I see you persevere in my service, and always hear
you at the foot of my altar, make the same protestations of an
inviolable attachment, I shall hearken to you, and believe you ; for
a love evinced by such a test, can no longer be liable to suspicion."
To this, beloved hearers, what answer can we make ? If God
is not pleased to put the righteous man to the like trials, with what

ON ADVERSITY AND PROSPERITY. 229

kind of sentiment should his supposed happiness affect us ? Is it
with envy ? Or is it not rather with a secret horror, for that if
God spares him, it is because he judges him unworthy of his
favour ; because God gives himself, in some manner, no farther con-
cern about fitting him for his service ; because God considers him
as a false metal, which the workman throws away, whereas, he
throws gold into the furnace, and makes it pass through fire ? It
was that which gave occasion to the royal prophet's prayer to God :
" Prove me, O Lord, and try me." Prove me, and grant me the
consolation and inestimable advantage, of having it in my power
to show you what I am, and which are the true and real disposi-
tions of my heart towards you. But because I cannot better make
them known to you, than by suffering hardships, strike, burn,
destroy me, if requisite, with pains, afflictions, and wretchedness ; I
agree to all.

2ndly. We ought, ourselves, my brethren, to consent to it with
the greater facility, because another design of God upon the afflicted
righteous is, to purify them from all earthly affections. And, in-
deed, if temporal prosperity were annexed to virtue, we should not
serve God but with that view, and consequently we should not love
God for his own sake. St. Augustin hath already made the same
observation, and reasons upon it with his usual solidity and pene-
tration. When you see (says he) libertines, and the enemies of
God, overflow with riches and enjoy vast estates, it makes a deep
impression on your mind, and you say : " Through a course of so
many revolving years, I have served my God, I have kept his com-
mandments, and I have acquitted myself of all the duties of re-
ligion. My fate, hoAvever, is always the same ; my affairs prosper
not a whit the better for it, and it would seem, on the contrary,
as if God were determined to perplex and cross them on all occa-
sions. These people lead a criminal life, without any regularity,
without any modesty, without any piety, and nevertheless enjoy
perfect health, heap riches upon riches, and are honoured and dis-
tinguished." But (continues the same holy doctor) that, there-
fore, was what'you wanted ; it was, therefore, for health of body,
for the good things of this life, for worldly honours, that your meant
to please God, Now this is exactly the reason why it was proper
that God should deprive you of them, to the end you might love
him, not for the things he gives to men, but for what he intrinsi-
cally is himself. For, let it be remembered, (adds the same father,)

230 ON ADVERSITY AND PROSPERITY.

that if you are righteous, you live in the state and order of grace.
As, therefore, this grace is entirely gratuitous on the part of God,
it lays an obligation on you of loving God with a gratuitous love ;
neither are you allowed to love him for any reward but himself, as
he means to be himself your whole reward. The good things of
this world would make your love mercenary ; and if you complain
when God refuses them, or deprives you of them, you thereby dis-
cover, that these things are more dear to you than God himself,
and, consequently, that you do not deserve to possess them.

3rdly. A great fortune is so infectious, that its inherent quali-
ties are capable to pervert the most righteous, and that oftentimes
it plunges them into a frightful gulf, and total corruption. The
instances we have of this are but too glaring and too numerous.
But Almighty God, by a signal mark of his providence and mercy
respecting his chastisements, secures them from this so imminent
a danger, by involuntary poverty, that is a preservative for them
against the contagion of temporal riches ; by a mortifying obscurity,
that is a guard for them against the contagion of perishable gran-
deur ; by a lingering illness, that is a fence for them against the
contagion of sensual pleasures, and the deceitful suggestions of the
flesh. True it is, that the righteous man may not now perceive
the danger to which he was so much exposed, if Almighty God
had not used such precaution in his favour. But what he is unable
to perceive at present, he will perceive at the final close of ages,
and at the great day of universal revelation. Then shall the
Almighty place before his eyes all the injustices into which an insati-
able avarice would have led him ; all the criminal schemes and pro-
jects, in which an unbounded and restless ambition would have
engaged him ; all the excesses and ill habits, into which a blind and
brutal passion would have plunged him, if the bridle of affliction
had not restrained him, and the misfortunes of life had not hin-
dered the fire from kindling in his heart. Enlightened with a ray
of divine light, and convinced of the salutary and favourable secrets
of the eternal wisdom which conducted him, he will bless God over
and over again, for the very thing which oftentimes had well nigh
excited his murmurs against God. What the world looked upon
as a total dereliction, and kind of reprobation, he will consider as a
stroke of divine Providence, and as one of the most precious graces
of God.

4thly. Forasmuch, however, as it is not enough to withdraw

ON ADVERSITY AND PROSPERITY. 231

from the world, and the occasion of sin, if it be not in the view of
adhering to God, I proceed farther ; and gradually disclosing the
favours of the Lord, and the designs of his providence, so far as I
am able to discover them, I add, that he doth not make his elect
suffer in this world, but to draw them to himself, and to lay them
under the happy necessity of having recourse to himself, of con-
fiding in him, and of fixing on no object but himself. For, (ac-
cording to St. Bernard,) there are four classes of the predestinate.
Some there are, who bear away the kingdom of heaven by vio-
lence ; and these are the voluntary poor, who by a spontaneous act of
abdication give up, and renounce, all property. Others endeavour,
as it were by making a bargain, to purchase it ; and these are the
rich, who according to holy writ, procure by alms-deeds interces-
sors with God, and friends to receive them into the eternal taber-
nacles. Others, as I may say, seem as if they would steal it ; and
who are they ? The humble of heart, who shun the light, not out
of worldly consideration, but a holy desire of debasement, and who,
in a retired and solitary life, hide from the eyes of mankind all the
meritorious works they do. Finally, there are many who come not
to the possession of it, but because it is out of their power to avoid
it ; and these are they who do not determine to seek God, but
because God would afford them nothing beside whereon to place
their affection. Had the world looked on them with the same
eye it beholds its votaries ; that is, had the world pleased them,
made them happy by its distinctions, its respect, and its pleasures,
ah ! Lord, would they ever have thought of you ? Like that
selfish and carnal people, whom you brought up with so much
care, and whom you made to feed upon the fat of the land, they
would have lost the memory of their Creator and benefactor ; they
no longer would have remembered that you were their God, and
all their incense would have arisen before altars not dedicated to
you: " grown thick, waxed fat, much-spread, they would have
forsaken the God their Maker." Deut. xxxii. But because your
arm fell heavy upon them, and for their sakes you filled the world
with thorns that pricked them, with losses and misfortunes that
made them disappear, and suffered them no more to quit their
retreats, though you seemed to make them die, you gave them
life, and by undoing them to appearance, you effectually saved
them. They found no other resource but you, and for that reason
they betook themselves to you. They flung themselves into your

23*2 ON ADVERSITY AND PROSPERITY.

arms as their sanctuary, and there you received them, there you
kept them, and there you preserved them from all danger : " When
he slew them, they returned and came early to him." Ps. lxxvii.

5thly. Not but that they have many conflicts to undergo, and
this is what God himself declares. The reason is, (as St. Ambrose
observes,) that their merit is owing to their conflicts. Without
fighting there is no victory to be obtained, and without victory
there is no crown to be hoped for. You are surprised (continues
this holy father) that God tries the patience of his faithful servants
in this manner, and, on the contrary, leaves the greatest sinners in
profound peace. You would know the reason of this difference.
It is essential, and very natural : namely, that God crowns none
but conquerors, and that he desires to crown his elect. Whence
it follows by a necessary consequence, that therefore he must afford
them a subject of triumph. But the crown not being reserved for
sinners, he leaves them, by a contrary method of proceeding,
without the means of fighting or overcoming. In this we have
a similitude before our eyes ; the sovereigns of this world act in a
manner conformable to the sovereign Lord of all things, nor doth
it surprise us. We do not suppose that they forsake those whom
they intend to place in honourable stations, when the better to
qualify them for the intended favours, they employ them in so
many perplexing affairs, or expose them to so many dangerous
occurrences. In the opinion of the world, it is neither indifference
nor rigour, but grace and favour.

6thly. But even supposing that in this instance God acted
rigorously towards the righteous, would it not be a paternal
and merciful rigour ? These are my notions of the matter. There
is no man of worth, how righteous soever, that hath not lapses to
repair, and transgressions to atone for. The most innocent and
godly, according to the notions Ave should have of this matter, in
the present life, is not he who never hath committed sin, (where is
there such a man to be found ?) but he who hath committed sin
the least, and who the least commits sin ; he who hath committed
the slightest sins, and who still commits the fewest sins ; he who
recovers, and recovers the most speedily from his sin. Whoever
he be, he is accountable to God for many debts, and from paying
which nothing can excuse him. But when will he pay them ? If
it be after death, what a judgment and what a chastisement must
he undergo ? It is. therefore, better for him, that in this life, and

ON ADVERSITY AND PROSPERITY. 233

by the pains of this life. Now this, in fact, is the time which God
chooses ; these are the means he employs to chastise him. It was
in this manner that St. Jerom wrote to the illustrious Paula, and
thus he comforted her on the loss she suffered, and assuaged the
heartfelt grief it occasioned. Why so many tears, (says he,) and such
regret ? Choose which you please, for your consolation, and ad-
here to one of these reflections. Either from the testimony of a
good conscience, and without hurting or diminishing the real sen-
timents of humility, you consider yourselves as righteous, and then
your comfort should be, that God perfectionatcs your virtue, that
he exercises it, and gives it increase and strength; or the remem-
brance of your transgressions, and the knowledge of your weak-
nesses, induce you to look upon yourself as criminal, and in that
view you should, in order to mitigate your grief, and render it not
only supportable, but amiable, think that God corrects you, and
affords you an opportunity of making him satisfaction at a small
expense. But why doth he not likewise correct the libertine ?
Ah ! beloved hearer, it is sufficient for you, that your God loves
you. Why should you oblige him to disclose his reasons for the
terrible judgments he suffers others to undergo ? I have told it
already ; neither can I repeat it too often. God takes vengeance
the more rigorously, the longer he postpones it ; and wo be to the
rich, the powerful, the haughty and proud ones of this world,
whom, (to use a particular expression of Tertullian,) he pampers
like victims for the day of his wrath.

Here let us stop ; and by the way of conclusion to this part,
let us reason, if you please, a moment together. By what I
have said, the divine Providence is justified, respecting the
partition which it makes of temporal prosperities and adver-
sities between the righteous and sinners. For, this vindication
must be reduced to two heads : one, that God takes care of his
elect in this life ; the other, that even in this life, he is averse
from sinners, and suffers his justice to act against them. Now
what but the cares of a mercy equally wise and beneficent,
could thus induce him to try his elect, banish his elect, pre-
serve his elect, unite them with himself by a stricter tie, make
them multiply and accumulate meritorious deeds, in the view
of making them rise to a high degree of glory. But by a rule
directly contrary, is it not an effort of severe justice, the more to
be dreaded, as it is the less discernible, to give up sinners to them-

Q

234 ON ADVERSITY AND PROSPERITY.

selves and to their passions ; not to disturb a mortal repose, in
which they quietly remain absorbed ; never to intermingle bitter-
ness with the false sweets that corrupt them ; to let them remain
in an elevated state that swells their pride, in a splendor that
dazzles them, in an affluence that inspires their minds with effemi-
nacy, in a voluptuous life that brings with it irregularities of every
kind, in a forge tfulness of a salvation and a state of impenitence
that leads to a death of sin and reprobation ? What deceives us
is, that we oftentimes form our judgment of tilings according to
the time in which we now are, and which passes away ; but that
the judgment of God is formed relatively to eternity, in which we
shall hereafter be, and which mil never pass away. Now, of these
two rules, which is the best, and the most advantageous?
According to the former, (says St. Augustin,) I grant that the
sinner, it should seem, hath a right to insult the righteous man,
and ask him, " Where is thy God ?" But according to the latter,
which beyond all dispute is the safest, and indeed the only one we
have to follow, the righteous man may reply to the insults of the
sinner : neither my time nor yours is as yet come ; but let us have
patience, they will both come, and then I shall ask you : where
now are those gods whom you adored, and in whom you placed
your whole confidence? What is become of all the happiness
which you relished to fascination, and which you loved to adora-
tion ? Why do you not summon it, and make it relieve you in
the eternal wretchedness into which you are fallen ? " Where arc
their gods, in which they placed their confidence ?" Deut. xxxii.

Accordingly, beloved hearers, what remains for you to do is, to
enter into the views of your God who afflicts you, and by your
patience to further his designs. And perhaps nothing ought at
present to give you greater concern, than not to have as yet turned
the talent to advantage, which you might have made to fructify a
hundred-fold ; than to have hearkened too much to your natural
diffidence, and broke out into complaints so unjust and injurious
to the providence of the Master who watches over you ; than to
have lent too fond an ear to the seducing discourses of the world,
concerning your distresses, and the seeming unhappiness of your
condition ; than to have sought to excite the compassion of men for
the sake of vain comfort, when you ought to have rather looked
upon yourself as an object of envy, and expected relief from faith
alone : than not to have sufficiently comprehended the truth of

ON ADVERSITY AND PROSPERITY. 235

these great evangelical maxims, that blessed are the poor, because
theirs is the kingdom of heaven ; and that blessed are they who
suffer persecution in this world, and who mourn, because they
shall be eternally comforted in the other. But, Lord, I now know
enough to dispel all my doubts, and calm all the inquietudes of
my mind. Of so many reasons, one only should suffice ; and
although there were not so many reasons, were it not enough to
know, that whatever befals me, it is your holy will it should be
so ? Command, my God, whatever you please, and dispose of
me as you please. What though the ungodly rule over the
righteous, trample them under foot, and I, most of all, smart
under the lash of persecution, I will cry out like the apostles in
dismay, " Lord, save us, we perish." But resting entirely on
your infinite wisdom and supreme mercy, I will say to you with
one of your most faithful prophets, " In thee, O Lord, have I
hoped, I shall not be confounded for ever ;" (Ps. xxx. ;) for I am
certain that all will be well with me, so long as I place my trust in
you ;~and that in the economy of your divine providence, which
seems so surprising to mankind, there is not only nothing that
should slacken their faith, but that should not conform it. This I
shall make appear in the second part.

Part II. If there be a motive, beloved Christians, to confirm
me in the faith, and to corroborate my hope, it is, that I see the
impious rise and prosper in the world, while the righteous are
overwhelmed in the mighty gulf of debasement and misery. This
proposition may seem paradoxical at first view ; but I am going to
examine it, and to make the truth of it incontestably appear. We
shall find it is founded on the most solid principles, nay, the most
evident, of natural reason, experience, and religion. Mind this, I
beseech you : for I am bold enough to affirm, that it is the essen-
tial point on which all Christian morality depends. In truth, to
see the calamities of the righteous upon earth, and the prosperity
of sinners, (which to us seems irregular,) is one of the strongest
and most obvious arguments, to convince us — that there is another
life besides this, and that our souls die not with the body ; that
there is a reward, a glory, a salvation, to be hoped for hereafter ;
that all our pretensions are not limited to the present life ; and
that Almighty God reserves for us something better and greater.
This is Avhat is taught us by reason ; I say more : it shows us that
Jesus Christ, our head, in whom we put our trust, is faithful to

Q2

^3G ON ADVERSITY AND PROSPERITY.

his word, that his predictions are time, that he hath not deceived
us, and that we may safely rely on his promises, inasmuch as they
are already accomplished. This is what is taught us by experience :
finally, it is evident, because nothing is more conformable to the
sacred order which God hath established in the predestination of
men, than the sufferings of the righteous, and the temporal advan-
tages and prosperity of sinners : this is what is taught us by
religion. Now I ask you, if these are not three very powerful
considerations toward the supporting of our confidence ? I know
there is a future life to which I am called ; a life of blessedness
which is prepared for me, and this my reason dictates to me. I
know that whatever the Son of God hath foretold will happen ;
whether to the righteous or to sinners, will come to pass : I may,
therefore, depend upon whatever he hath promised me, and the
proof I have of it is from my own experience. I know, and per-
ceive, that whatever God hath regulated and ordained as to our
predestination, begins to be fulfilled. When these three
things are made to appear to us, can any one's faith to be so weak
and wavering as not to be strengthened, roused, and inspirited ?
Now this, I repeat it again, is what evidently follows from the
state of pains and afflictions in which we see the righteous, while
we see the sinners live in ease, opulence, and pleasure. Let us
recapitulate, and place in a clearer point of view, these three
reflections :

1st. There is no libertine, whether in morals or belief, who
would not quit his evil courses, were he but persuaded that there
is another life. His libertinism is owing to his not believing, or
not believing but by halves, that there is something real and true
in all that is told about a future life, to which we aspire as to the
term of our career, and the final object of our hope. Whatever
he may think of it, (for it is not to him I now address myself,
neither is it on his account I speak) — I, for my part, who believe
in God, the Creator of the universe, to encourage myself, and
always maintain a lively faith and firm confidence in my heart,
make use of this strange diversity of conditions, in which I behold
the good and the impious, in the following manner. I say within
myself: virtue is generally oppressed in the world : vice holds an
uncontrolled dominion and sway. The righteous are destitute of
every thing, and miserable ; the true friends of God are persecuted ;
the saints are despised, overlooked, and abandoned. What infe-

ON ADVERSITY AND PROSPERITY. 237

rencc ought I to draw from this ? That therefore there arc more
substantial blessings to be hoped for by the righteous after the
present life, than the visible and perishable things that are now
withheld from them. This is the inference which the fathers of the
church always drew, and the grand proof which they always
employed against those heretics who admitted indeed the existence
of a God, but yet would question the immortality of our souls.
Read what William of Paris hath written upon this subject ; or,
rather, hearken to the short abstract I am going to give of it.

You grant (says he) that there is a first Being ; you acknow-
ledge a God : but, answer me this : doth this same God love
those who serve him, and who make it their only business to
please him ? If he loves them not, and hath not their real welfare
at heart, what is become of his wisdom and goodness ? If he doth
love them, when doth he show it ? Not in this life, because he
suffers them to remain in affliction ; not in the next, because you
pretend there is no such thing. You may rack your imagination,
(adds this holy bishop,) and torture your brain in search of sub-
tilties, you never will be able to remove this difficulty, but by
admitting the immortality of the soul, and confessing with me,
that after death there is a state of life, in which the Almighty
recompences every one according to his merits. For this God, as
God, being necessarily perfect in all his attributes, must have a
perfect justice. Now a perfect justice necessarily brings with it a
perfect judgment. This perfect judgment is not fulfilled in the
present world. By consequence it must be fulfilled in the next ;
and there is a world to come, winch is that which we expect.
Otherwise, (continues the same father,) the righteous might be
said to be fools and madmen, and the ungodly, men of true wis-
dom. The reason is this : the ungodly, by seeking the good things
of this life, would seek true happiness ; whereas the righteous
would undergo much, and pine away with toil and labour, in a
fond expectation of an imaginary good. Thus, beloved Christians,
this holy bishop drew an invincible argument to prove and estab-
lish the faith of an eternal life and glory.

The same is St. Augustin's way of discoursing, in his exposition
of the ninety-first psalm, when, speaking of a Christian, disturbed
at the dispositions wliich appear in the economy of the world, he
alleges this same reason, in order to inspire him with courage
against the worst events. Would you have (says he) all the Ion-

238 ON ADVERSITY AND PROSPERITY.

ganimity of the saints, consider the eternal duration of God. Then
the worst of accidents, far from casting a damp on your spirits,
will be so many motives to a more constant faith and hope than
ever. For when you are uneasy, because virtue is disregarded
and spurned at upon earth, and vice is honoured, you do not reason
upon a good principle, but are in an error. You consider but a
small number of days which compose your life, as if in that small
number of days the whole designs of God upon men were to be
fulfilled. That is, you would wish, from this moment, to see all
the righteous crowned and rewarded, and the wicked stricken with
all the scourges of divine vengeance ; and that God would not
postpone liis vengeance, but carry both into execution in the
small number of your years. But this is a thing you should not
ask. God will do both in good season, although neither in your
time. Eternity is the time of God, and yours is the mortal life.
Your time is short, but God's is infinite. Now nothing obliges
God to do all things in your time : it is enough that he does them
in liis own. And therefore it is that I say, if you mean to corro-
borate your faith, and support your hope, you need but continually
revolve in your mind the eternity of God. The reason is, that
being witness to the seeming injustice with which he treats some,
during their short abode npon earth, so rigorous to his friends, and
so unfavourable to his enemies, you would draw this consequence,
that therefore he prepares for the one and the other, an eternity
in which he will render them all the justice due to them. All this
is taken from St. Augustin ; and I do no more than give you his
words.

It was this same prospect into eternity, that made the saints of
God invincible to every the most violent temptations. When did
Job speak of a future and immortal life with most certainty and
greatest faith ? When, deprived of property, house, and family,
he lay extended upon a dunghill; " I know," says he, " that my
Kedeemer liveth ;" (Job xix. ;) and that I shall live with him
eternally. I know it not only by an obscure revelation, but by a
kind of evidence and demonstration. And whence did he learn
it ? From his veiy sufferings, and from all the calamities with
which he was afflicted. When had holy David the clearest and
most distinct conception of the eternal good things of the Lord,
and discoursed upon them as though heaven were open before his
eyes ? "I believe to see the good things of the Lord in the land

ON ADVERSITY AND PROSPERITY. 239

of the living." Ps. xxix. When Saul persecuted him with greatest
fury, I behold already (says he) the glory which God hath pre-
pared for his elect, and it seems to appear to me in all its splendor.
But, O holy prophet, how dost thou behold it ? Thou art beset
on all sides with afflictions and ills of every kind, and yet thou
declarest to see, in the midst of all that, the good tilings of the
Lord. But in that it was, (replies St. Chrysostom,) in the ills
with which he was beset, that ho found a certain pledge and surety,
for the life to come, of possessing the good things of the Lord.
For, his reason alone suggested to him, in the bottom of his soul,
that as the ills which he had to suffer on the part of Saul, were
against justice, the divine Providence must have preordained a
future state, in which Ins innocence should be made manifest, and
and his patience glorified. And this was his meaning, and the
idea he meant to convey, when he said, " I believe to see the good
things of the Lord in the land of the living."

2ndly. A stronger argument, beloved Christians, than any
hitherto adduced, may be drawn from the predictions of Jesus
Christ, which our own experience makes us see fulfilled in the
sufferings of the righteous, and prosperity of sinners. This, too,
is worthy of your reflection. If the Son of God had said in the
gospel, that those who should follow him, and walk in his foot-
steps, should be exempt in this world from all pain, should be
screened from all disgrace, should wallow in wealth, should pass
their days in joy and pleasure, and that the portion of the ungodly
should be vexation and crosses, our faith, 1 own, might in that
case waver at the sight of the worthy man in indigence, humili-
ation, and sorrow, and of the libertine in the enjoyment of fortune,
authority, and elevation. I should find it hard to resist the senti-
ments of diffidence, which would naturally rise in my heart, because
I should imagine that Jesus Christ himself had imposed upon me,
and should find, upon trial, the direct contrary to that which he
had promised me. But when I consult the sacred oracles which
flowed from the mouth of this saving God, and see them thoroughly
and openly fulfilled by the secret dispensations of divine Provi-
dence ; when I hear this adorable Saviour tell his disciples clearly
and without equivocation, " The world shall rejoice, but ye shall
be sorrowful ;" (John xvi. ;) when I hear him declare in the most
express terms, that they shall be exposed to the persecutions of men,
number up the crosses they shall be obliged to carry, and all the

240 ON ADVERSITY AND PROSPERITY.

ill treatment they must undergo, point out all the circumstances
attending these matters, and^ conclude with admonishing them :
" He hath said these things, that they may not be scandalized, but
that when the time shall come, they may remember he mentioned
them ;" (John xvi. ;) when all this, I say, is present to my mind,
and done before my eyes ; when I ruminate upon it, and examine
into it, and have plain and obvious instances of it, is it possible
that my confidence should not revive, acquire fresh strength, and
considerably increase ? If I were to see all sinners in wretched-
ness, and the righteous arrived to the height of human felicity, I
should be struck with amazement, because I should not see the
word of Jesus Christ fulfilled. But so long as persons of worth
are in misery, and ungodly persons have all the advantages the
world can afford, 1 shall fear nothing : I shall comfort myself, and
bear up in the hope of what is to come ; for thus I may reason :
the same Son of God who tells the righteous, you shall be in
affliction, tells them at the same time, that "their sadness
shall be turned into joy." John xvi. The same who foretells them
their sufferings and adversities, hath promised them his kingdom,
and in his kingdom a perfect happiness. Now he is equally infalli-
ble in the one and in the other, his veracity being the same, when
he announces good, and when he announces evil, inasmuch as he
is himself the eternal Truth. As, therefore, the event hath justi-
fied, and doth justify every day, what he hath foretold concerning
the afflictions of his chosen servants, the same may be said with
respect to the everlasting glory of which he hath given them
hopes. Accordingly, I enter into the spirit of the great apostle,
and I say with him : I suffer, but it is without complaining,
neither am I disheartened, or made uneasy, for I know in whom
and in whose word I place my confidence. I know, and I am
certain, not only that he can do for me whatever he hath promised to
do, but that he will do it, forasmuch as he hath promised to do
it for me, and for all those who care to prepare, in silence and
submission, for the happy day in which he will come to acknow-
ledge his elect and crown their affiance.

3rdly. This is not all, beloved hearers ; I shall conclude with
an article which seems to me, and should seem to you as well as
to me, the most essential. For in this congregation I address
myself to him, whom God knows to be of all the most righteous,
but to whom, nevertheless, he hath afforded the fewest temporal

ON ADVERSITY AND PROSPERITY. 241

blessings. Let hini hearken to what I say, and let him take my
meaning. True it is, brother, and I know very well, that your
case is hard in the eyes of men, your situation is melancholy, and
your life wretched ; but what conclusion ought you to draw from
thence ? That you bear the mark which the elect bear, which dis-
tinguishes them as elect ; in a word, which Christ himself, their
head and model, bore. Insomuch that you enter, by that means,
in the order of your predestination, and that God begins to cany
the decree which he hath made concerning it, into execution. But
I shall place this mystery of salvation in a clearer light. You
have been often told, in the words of the apostle, and it is a prin-
ciple of our faith, that, our blessed Saviour being a pattern of the
predestinate, to be glorified like him, we must bear a holy resem-
blance to him. For according to the excellent and sublime theology
of the teacher of the Gentiles, it is the indispensable condition
which God requires, in order that we share in the glory of his
elect, and upon these terms it was that he chose them : " Whom
he foreknew and predestinated to be made conformable to the
image of his Son, our Lord Jesus Christ." Horn. viii. Now it is
very evident, that our blessed Saviour lived upon earth in the
same condition, to which Almighty God lets the righteous to be
reduced ; that he walked in the same path ; that he was exposed
to the same insults, the same contempt, and the same contradic-
tions. How deep are the counsels of the divine wisdom ! Tiberius
wielded the imperial sceptre, and the Son of God obeyed his
orders. Pilate was invested with the supreme authority, and the
Son of God submitted to his sentence. Thus God worked, by the
means of his only Son Jesus Christ, the salvation of men ; and
thus, beloved hearers, he works yours, by your own means. He
impresses the characteristics of his Son upon you, and engraves on
you his lineaments. Otherwise you would have great reason to
fear ; but now you have great reason to hope, as thereby are
executed the favourable designs of God upon you, " Whom he
foreknew and predestinated to be made conformable to the image
of his Son, our Lord Jesus Christ."

If objection be made that Ave have seen, and do still see, men of
worth in the world, rich, honoured, and distinguished, I grant it ;
but to this I have a three-fold answer to give. If there were no
righteous, or elect, but the poor and the vulgar, that is, such as by
the obscurity of their condition, or the distress of their affairs, arc

242 OS ADVERSITY AND PROSPERITY.

in the lowest class, all other states would, therefore, be excluded
from the kingdom of God ; would, therefore, of themselves be repro-
bated states ; would, therefore, be such as every one would be
obliged to abandon or avoid. Now, notwithstanding this, it was the
will of Providence to establish in society men of these states, and
it is likewise the will of the same Providence to lend them protec-
tion. * Whence it evidently follows, that God would not annex an
inevitable damnation to these states ; but that, on the contrary, he
must make examples of holiness appear in them, to the end that
those who are engaged in them, may not be cast into an absolute
despair. I proceed further, and I add, that if ever the saints per-
ceived themselves in the state of human prosperity, it made them
tremble, it kept them in a continual diffidence in themselves, it
was a humiliating thought for them, and it put them to confusion
in the presence of God. The reason is this : as they were unable
to perceive the image of their suffering Saviour in their prosperity,
they were afraid that G od had cast them off, and that they should
never reign with their Saviour glorious and triumphant. What
then did they do to make up the deficiency, and to acquire this so
necessary a conformity ? Mind this ; it is my last answer. They
did not, upon that account, relinquish their station, because they
thought themselves called thereunto, and they would obey the
appointment of Almighty God ; but under the specious outside of
an easy and commodious condition, they preserved the proper abne-
gation of a Christian, and bore on their bodies the mortification of
Jesus Christ. Without renouncing their state, or a certain exte-
rior peculiar to their state, they renounced the delights of it ; and,
above all, they renounced themselves. In the midst of abundance,
they found means to feel the inconvenience of poverty. In the
midst of honours* they could entertain sentiments, and exercise acts
of profound humility. In the midst of worldly diversions, in which
they sometimes seemed to bear a part, they did not forget the
duties of penitence, which, on those occasions, they often practised
in its full extent. All this they did, in the view of being num-
bered among those whom the apostle says " he foreknew and pre-
destinated to be made conformable to the image of his Son, our
Lord Jesus Christ."

It is urged that there have been, and that still there are sinners
in the same adversity, and equally afflicted with the righteous.
True ; but without examining all the reasons why Almighty God

ON ADVERSITY AND PROSPERITY. 243

never will, nor does suffer vice to be always prosperous, I shall
give an answer that will be an additional proof of the important
verity I deliver. It is this ; that for those sinners, who, like the
righteous, are harrassed by the unfortunate accidents of life, one of
the most precious and obvious tokens (according to the doctrine of
all the fathers) of God's propitious regard toward them, is to be made
to undergo hardships ; that the greatest of all misfortunes for them
would be, to be always cherished and happy, and never be contra-
dicted in their evil doings ; that the last means by which they may
enter into the way of salvation, and be received into the bosom of
eternal mercy is, that God chastises them in the present life ; that
by chastising them, he corrects them ; that by correcting them,
he reforms them ; and that this renewal and reformation of man-
ners imprints in them afresh the image of his Son, which had been
effaced. And for that reason, we must ever recur to the words of
the great teacher of the Gentiles : " Whom he foreknew and pre-
destinated to be made conformable to the image of his Son, our
Lord Jesus Christ."

And now, beloved hearers, may heaven grant that you may
comprehend well the mystery of grace and sanctification which I
have disclosed to you ; and that in all the misfortunes which shall
befal you, you acknowledge the benign hand of God ! May the
righteous man be not appalled, and may his virtue stand fixed and
immoveable, on the solid basis of hope and patience. May the sin-
ner, dazzled with the vain splendor that surrounds him, and ine-
briated with the false and fleeting happiness that deceives him,
perceive at last the wrong notions he hath conceived of them ; and
may he henceforth wean his affections from them, and settle them
on more deserving objects ! But you, O God, make no change in
the order of things which your holy providence hath disposed.
Act according to your own views, not according to ours. Your
views are infinite, and ours are limited ; your views are pure, and
ours are earthly ; your views have no tendency but to our salva-
tion, and ours have no tendency but to our perdition. If nature
rebel, or if the senses murmur, grant not, O Lord, either to our
precipitate and intractable nature, or to our blind and carnal senses,
that which they desire. Deliver us not up to our perverse propen-
sities, neither hearken to us, as you did in your anger to the Jew-
ish people. But follow uninterruptedly your adorable designs,
and, whatever it may cost us, carry them invariably into execution,
both for your own glory > and pur eternal welfare.

244

SEKMON XII

ON MATRIMONY.

For the Second Sunday after Epiphany.

" There was a wedding in Cana of Galilee ; and the mother
of Jesus was there ; and both Jesus and his disciples ivere in-
vited to the wedding" John ii.

He was not only invited to the wedding, Christians, but assisted
at it, and by assisting at it, he approved of it, honoured it, sancti-
fied it, removed from it all its irregularities, and already took mea-
sures to consecrate it in the church, by the institution of a sacra-
ment. It was not, therefore, undesignedly, and to no end, that
he chose to be invited ; for hence (say the ancient fathers) derives
the holiness of matrimony : and if Jesus Christ be not invited to
it, it is a profane state, as there is nothing to raise it, or give it
dignity. But I say more, and I maintain it is not enough that
Jesus Christ be invited to it by men, if they are not also invited
to it by Jesus Christ. That is, beloved Christians, prayer must
precede the grace of vocation, by which God sanctifies you, in order
to your entering into the marriage state ; and by prayer you must
beg of God to take part in the holy alliance you are going to con-
tract. A useless prayer, unaccompanied by this divine vocation.
But if God calls you first, and then you call God, it is a perfect
model and true idea of a Christian marriage. It is also the subject
upon which I shall enlarge for your present instruction. And as
I am aware that there are rocks unnumbered, against which the
nature of the subject may drive me, it imports me to have imme-
diate recourse to God : I address myself to him in the manner of
the prophet, and beseech him to put a guard to my lips, and pre-
serve my tongue from uttering so much as a single word, on which
the malignity of the times might put an ill construction.

St. Augustin, speaking on the nuptial state, in an excellent tract
composed on that subject, and collecting together in one point of

ON MATRIMONY. 245

view the several advantages arising from it, reduces them to these
three principal ones : to the education of children, which is its end ;
to conjugal fidelity, which is its tie ; and to the quality of the
sacrament, which is, as it were, its essential constituent in the law
of grace. " A three-fold good accrues from matrimony — posterity,
fidelity, a sacrament." These are his words, and they often occur
in the works of that father : " And, indeed, it is a great happiness
for mankind, that Almighty God, by the institution of a sacrament,
hath established connexions and alliances among them ; and that
he hath raised these connexions and alliances to a supernatural
order, by a grace which assists them to obtain these blessings.
Besides which, it is an advantage greatly deserving of esteem, for
a person engaged in the matrimonial state, to think that another
person upon earth doth plight them their troth ; and though nothing
to them in the order of nature, or by proximity of blood, yet owes
them everything, love, respect, mutual assistance, fidelity. Finally,
I hold that God doth honour to fathers and mothers, by choosing
them to bring up in the marriage state a lawful progeny, that is,
servants, by whom he is glorified, and his church augmented.
Here, then, we see the three invaluable prerogatives of matrimony ;
it is a sacrament, it is a mutual tie of society, and it is a lawful pro-
pagation of children for God. All this is true, beloved Christians ;
but do not imagine that these advantages are in such a manner gra-
tuitous, as that they are attended with no charge or inconvenience.
For this is the idea you ought to form of them, and which I wish
you to comprehend, as they make the division of this discourse.
Wherefore, from these three kinds of good result of necessity :

First, duties of conscience, and indispensable obligations to be
fulfilled in matrimony.

Secondly, great difficulties, and very grievous to be undergone,
in matrimony.

Thirdly, excessive dangers with respect to salvation, to be avoided
in matrimony.

Now I maintain that you cannot satisfy these obligations, nor
undergo these difficulties, nor escape these dangers, independently
of the grace and vocation of God. Whence, I infer, that there is
not a state among all mankind, in which this vocation of God is
more necessary. This is the subject of your favourable attention,
which I humbly crave.

Part I. It cannot be doubted, beloved Christians, that to con-

246 ON MATRIMONY.

sider matrimony in its whole extent, and especially according to
the qualities which I have pointed out : as a sacrament, as a mu-
tual tie of society, and with respect to a proper education of chil-
dren, which it lawfully propagates, this state carries with it obli-
gations which it is of the utmost consequence for you to know tho-
roughly, and which, in order to satisfy the duty annexed to my
ministry, I am going to explain to you.

1st. It is, without doubt, a great happiness for the Christian
world, and for you in particular, who are called by Providence to
live in the world, that the Son of God hath sanctified matrimony
by its institution ; that matrimony is not a criminal state, as certain
heretics would have represented it ; nor a civil partnership, as it is
among the pagans ; nor a simple ceremony of religion, as it was in
the old law : but a sacrament which confers the grace of Jesus
Christ, a sacrament instituted for the sanctification of souls, to re-
present one of the greatest mysteries, the Word made flesh, and to
apply the merits thereof to such as worthily receive it. " This (says
St. Paul) is a great sacrament ;" (Ephes. v. ;) and I mention it, my
brethren, that you may know the advantages which our holy reli-
gion possesses in this above all others. For it is not great, but in-
asmuch as it bears a relation to Jesus Christ, our divine Saviour.
It is not great, but for the faithful, who are the members of the
mystical body of Jesus Christ ; that is, it is only great for you.
" I say unto you in Christ, and in the church." Ephes. v. All this
is taught by faith. Whence we may infer, that there are many
obligations, to which little attention are paid in the world, and
which, nevertheless, are imposed by matrimony. For, since it is
a sacrament in the law of grace, we are not, therefore, allowed to
engage in it, but with a pure and holy attention : we are not, there-
fore, allowed to receive it, but with a conscience free from sin ; we
are not, therefore, allowed to use it, but in conformity to the views
of God, and for an end worthy of God ; and whoever is wanting
in these duties, commits an offence nearly approaching to the nature
of a sacrilege, by profaning a sacrament. Admitting the principles
laid down by faith, there is nothing in all these consequences, but
what is evident and incontestable.

But to these consequences little attention is paid in the world.
And what is the reason of it ? What is the reason that the rules
of piety which Christians follow, and which they believe should be
followed in the receiving other sacraments, are forgotten in this ?

ON MATRIMONY. 247

You are often the first and the most zealous in condemning a man,
who should take to the church, and go into orders from interested
views, or views of ambition. You would not approach the sacra-
ment of our altars, without a previous purification in the waters of
penance ; and you would imagine it a high crime to present your-
self at the tribunal of penance for any other end than to honour
God, and be restored to his favour. When mention as made of
Simon the sorcerer, who asked the apostles for confirmation, from
the detestable motive of vain-glory ; and when you are told that
Judas appeared at the table of our Lord, and received communion
in a criminal disposition, you abominate the wickedness of the one
and the other. Now is not matrimony as holy and as venerable
in quality of sacrament ? Was it not instituted by the Saviour of
the world himself, as well as the other sacraments ? Doth it not
contain mysteries a3 elevated as the other sacraments do ? Is not
whatever is said to the honour of other sacraments applicable to
this in the same degree ? And doth it not, by consequence,
require proportionably as perfect dispositions, as Christian a motive,
a purity of heart as entire, and a use of them as decorous and as
holy ?

All this we know in theory ; but in practice people make a dif-
ference between this and other sacraments. For these they prepare ;
in these they seek God, and are influenced by religious motives
and sentiments ; and in this they act. merely conformably to the
laws of Christianity. But if the question relates to the sacrament
of which I am speaking, you would say, it was in life an indifferent
tiling, and quite profane, that luid nothing to do with God or reli-
gion. They make no conscience of contracting marriage upon
merely human considerations. They celebrate it at the foot of the
altar, in an actual state of sin ; and although it be incontestably a
sacrilegious profanation, scarce do they scruple it, for that most of
them know little or nothing of this point of conscience. Now,
beloved hearers, can they plead their justification, upon this head,
before Almighty God ? For if you would have me declare to you
candidly, what I think of the matter — it is one of the most mate-
rial irregularities, this day, in the Christian world. They seem
no longer to consider wedlock as a sacred thing, but as a temporal
affair, a mere negotiation. Who consults God, in the view of
embracing this state ? Who looks upon this state, as a state of
holiness, to which he is called by Almighty God ? Who chooses

248 ON MATRIMONY.

this state for the sake of his eternal predestination and salvation ?
Shall I say it ? The pagans themselves were more religious, wise,
and reasonable in this respect. If matrimony was not a sacrament
among them, neither was it, as it is become among us, a mercenary
traffic, by which people give themselves to one another, influenced
neither by a reasonable inclination, nor a real esteem, nor personal
merit, but by revenues and inheritances, by gold and silver. Such
is the knot which money ties, in almost all these alliances. And
hence arises a very common, and not less deplorable inordination ;
namely, that after marriages contracted without attachment, crimi-
nal attachments are formed without marriage. Be that as it may,
beloved Christians, what cannot sufficiently be lamented is, that
although matrimony includes in its essence, two qualities, that of
a contract, and that of a sacrament, they pay no regard but to the
former, which is of an inferior order, and absolutely neglect the
other, which is quite supernatural and divine. As a contract, it is
managed according to all the rules of prudence. How many trea-
ties, conferences, and meetings, articles and conditions, precautions
and measures ! But as a sacrament, it is concluded without reflec-
tion or preparation. They think that all consists in a few external
ceremonies, practised by the church, of which they acquit them-
selves without recollection, or the spirit of religion. Now, is it
possible, that a sacrament profaned in this manner, should draw
down upon you those succours of grace which God hath annexed
to it ? And if these succours be withheld from you, how will you
be able to fulfil the duties of your state ?

2ndly. I say the obligations which matrimony imposes, consi-
dered not only as a sacrament, but as a bond of mutual fellowship.
For here it is that the most powerful and abundant graces of God
are necessary. I shall make it appear to you. The fellowship I
speak of, is not only in appearance, but in affection ; insomuch that
you follow this precept of the apostle to the letter: "Husbands,
love your wives ;" (Ephes. v. ;) and you, wives, those whom Pro-
vidence hath given you for husbands. The rule you must follow
is, to love one another, "even as Christ loved the church." Ephes. v.
This, I say, is your model. Love one another with a respectful
love, a faithful love, an officious and condescending love, a con-
stant and durable love, a Christian love. All these are so many
duties, included in that conjugal faith, which you mutually pro-
mised, and which united you. Be pleased to take notice : I say,

ON MATRIMONY. 249

with a respectful love ; because a familiarity without respect, leads
insensibly, and almost infallibly, to contempt. I say, with a faith-
ful love, so as to quit, for a husband or a wife, father and mother,
as these are the express words of the law of God ; and with still
greater reason, so as to break every other tie that might captivate
the heart, and so as to draw the affection from any other object
that may seem to share it in any wise. I say, with an officious and
condescending love, which obviates difficulties, compassionates
weaknesses, inspires a conformity of mind and thought, and keeps
up harmony between one and another's wills. I say, with a con-
stant and durable love, to resist vexations and disagreeable humours,
suspicions and jealousies, animosities and rancour. In fine, I say,
with a Christian love ; for here I may apply, and ought to make
good the saying of St. Paul, that the Christian and virtuous woman
is the sanctification of her husband. Such were those illustrious
princesses who sanctified empires, by converting to God, and sanc-
tifying princes, of whom they were, at one and the same time, the
spouses and apostles. Such, ladies, ought you to be doing, that
in your families, which they so gloriously, and with so much merit
did in kingdoms. The best proof you can give your husbands of
a true love, is, to wean them from vice, and bring them to the
service and way of God ; employing, for that purpose, all your
thoughts, all your Avishes, all your advices, all your cares, and
encouraging yourselves to steadily persevere in this holy work, by
that excellent saying of St. Jerom to Loeta. She was the daughter
of a man addicted to idolatry, but whom his wife at last induced,
by vigilance and patience, to embrace the faith. " Now (says St.
Jerom) it could not be otherwise ; so great a zeal as that of your
mother for her husband's salvation, could not have any other effect.
And §>r my own part, (adds this holy doctor, in his usual lofty and
figurative style,) I verily believe that if Jupiter himself, whom the
pagans had adored, had lived in so holy a union and fellowship, he
would have believed in Christ our Lord."

But, beloved hearers, the reverse of this, which cannot suffici-
ently be deplored, (and of which, perhaps, you know yourselves
the pernicious consequences,) is extremely general in these times.
You know it well ; as it happens every day before your eyes. This
fellowship, which ought to be the cement and honour of families,
and their best support, and which husband and wife should mutu-
ally preserve as the best and most inestimable happiness of their

250 ON MATRIMONY.

life, is eternally exposed to quarrels, aversions, separations, and
sometimes scandalous reports ; and all this, because neither he nor
she will at all contribute to the keeping it up. The wife is head-
strong, whimsical, vain, and a great lover of her own person. She
is fond of plays, of living splendidly, of ornamental attire, of gay
company, and of all the elegancies and diversions of life. The hus-
band is imperious, jealous, fretful, morose and passionate ; a man
of pleasure, and immersed in debauchery. And because they are
unwilling to thwart their inclinations in the least, she to moderate
her stubbornness, to regulate her whims, to set bounds to her
amusements, to her dissipation, to her vanity, to her attachment to
the world ; he, to bring down his haughtiness, to mitigate his fret-
fulness, to lay aside his unjust suspicions, and extravagant and ill-
founded disquietudes ; to moderate his anger, and to forego the
infamous practice of debauchery ; reciprocal complaints, murmurs,
and reproaches unavoidably ensue. They conceive a disgust of
one another ; and not unfrequently, (to prevent disorders of a worse
nature,) they find themselves reduced to the necessity of separating
from one another. These divorces and separations are authorised,
indeed, by human laws, but are not, upon that account, void of all
guilt before God, and according to the laws of God. They are
frequent in the world at this day ; and we may look upon them as
the disgrace of our age, especially among Christians. To these
divorces and separations is owing the ruin of many families noted
for property and popularity, in which the saying of our blessed
Saviour is fulfilled to the letter: "That every kingdom divided
in itself shall be laid waste." In this state, however, it is not un-
common to see persons, otherwise addicted to the works of godli-
ness, live without scruple, not reflecting that the chief duty of real
godliness is, in their regard, and so far as it depends on their care,
to remain in a fellowship which God himself hath formed, or which
ought, at least, to have been formed by God.

3rdly. And why did he form it ? I have given the reason of it
from St. Augustin ; for a lawful propagation, and the education
of children. This is the third and last ground, on which are raised
the most important and essential obligations of wedlock. For, it
is not enough to have given them birth, and brought them into
the world ; they must be nursed and taken care of. It is not
enough to nurse them and take care of them, they must be provided
for. It is not enough to provide for them in a worldly way, they

ON MATRIMONY. 251

must be instructed and brought up in a Christian manner. To fur-
nish them with a subsistence, and the support of a life which they
received from you, is what nature dictates, and to which it were
needless to suggest motives. To think of settling them in the
world, is, besides the dictates of parental affection, what ambition
oftentimes inspires you withal, and in prosecuting which, you are
but too zealous, and too ardent. To labour for their perfection,
by cultivating certain talents, which may distinguish and advance
them in the world, is a care which you do not absolutely neglect,
and of which some acquit themselves with proper assiduity. Not
but that there are of those hard and unfeeling parents, who, taken
up entirely Avith themselves, seem to have no knowledge cf their
children, and suffer them to want the most common necessaries,
while nothing is refused to their own persons that may satisfy their
worldliness and sensuality. Not but that there are to whom the
sight of their children becomes so shamefully insupportable, that
they keep them many years from their parental home, banish them
in some sort from their presence, and abandon them to strangers
for their education. Not but that there are who will part with
nothing to settle their children in a manner suitable to their
birth and family ; but will suffer them quietly, and without pity,
to drag on a miserable life at home, to an advanced age, and reduce
them to the necessity of passing their days without rank, fortune,
name, or profession. Not but that there are, who, from a total
forgetfulness of their children, or through a weak and vicious con-
descension for them, neglect to educate them, even for the world,
permitting them to follow their own ways, and giving them up, as
one may say, to themselves, and to all their natural defects and
propensities.

What a field, were I willing to expatiate on these, and on many
other irregularities, which I pass over ; because, after all, they are
neither so important nor so frequent ! But the most essential and
most general is, to instruct children in the ways of the world, and
not teach them the duties of a Christian ; to attend to everything
that concerns their fortune, and neglect whatever concerns their
salvation ; to inspire them with sentiments agreeable to the maxims
and principles of the times, and not mind whether or not their sen-
timents agree with the maxims and principles of the gospel. To
forgive them nothing, when the point is concerning a genteel air,
a courteous demeanour, and a knowledge of the world, and be very

r2

252 ON MATRIMONY.

easy with regard to innocence of manners and practice of piety,
For what, however, will parents be more responsible to God, than
for the sanctification of their children ? As that, undoubtedly, of
all affairs, holds the first place ; or, rather, as that is their only
necessary affair, it is to that particularly they should have an eye
in the instructions they give the children entrusted by Providence
to their care. It is their province, therefore, to direct their chil-
dren in the ways of God, and make them persevere in his fear and
love; to correct 'he vicious inclinations of their children, and give
them an early relish of virtue ; to keep away, and preserve their
children from whatever may corrupt their hearts — domestic irregu-
larities, loose conversation, dangerous company, obscene plays, bad
books ; to procure for their children pious instructions, to give them
useful advice themselves, but above all, to give them good exam-
ple, being particularly careful to say or do nothing that may occa-
sion scandal to souls so weak, and so susceptible of every impression.
This would lead me too far ; and, therefore, to cultivate the time
allowed me, I shall enlarge no more upon this head.

To return then : such, beloved hearers, are the obligations of
the marriage state. They are, I grant, attended with difficulties,
nay, with great difficulties. But what did I mean to infer from
thence ? That no one should engage in this state, without a call
from God. For, to fulfil all these obligations, the special assistance
of heaven is requisite ; and this assistance Almighty God grants to
those only whom he calls : an assistance requisite, not only to fulfil
the obligations of the marriage state, but to bear its difficulties, as
I am going to set forth in the second part.

Part II. There are difficulties, beloved Christians, in the mar-
riage state ; and of this the proof is the more evident, because your
experience of it is so frequent. ' To represent them to you, I need
only follow the same ideas, by considering matrimony in the same
light. And here be pleased (for the subject requires it) to renew
your attention.

I have said, and I say it again, that matrimony is a sacrament ;
and that to this is owing its greatest excellence in the law of grace,
but that to this likewise is owing its slavery. The reason of it is
this same quality of sacrament that renders it indissoluble, and by
consequence, that makes it a yoke, a subjection, a kind of slavery,
by which a person gives up his liberty. If the Son of God had
not raised matrimony to the dignity of a sacrament, it would have

ON MATRIMONY. 253

been no more than a simple contract, more rigorous, indeed, than
any other engagement whatever ; but which, after all, mi<rht be
broken in extreme necessity. Accordingly we find, that among
those pagans, whose laws and jurisprudence were the most con-
formable to human reason, the dissolution of marriages was autho-
rised and practised. They dissolved them, when important reasons
induced them to do so ; and they gave up alliances which they had
contracted, so soon as they appeared prejudicial to them. Almighty
God himself, in the old law, permitted the Jews to repudiate their
wives ; and although he granted them this privilege only in conde-
scension to the hardness of their hearts, it was, notwithstanding, a
lawful power, which they were allowed the liberty to use. But in
the Christian church, that is, since Christ made marriage a sacra-
ment, and communicated to it the yirtue of a sacrament, it carries
with it the characteristic of immutability. Acknowledged once
valid, it always remains so. Although the conversion of life were
at stake ; although the destruction of kingdoms were threatened ;
although ruin hung over the universal church, and all the powers
on earth were combined in arms against her, this marriage would
subsist till death, which alone can put a period to it. This is the
doctrine even of faith.

Now this, Christians, is what I call a slavery, and what is really
such. For I ask you : Is not a state which brings you into sub-
jection, without well knowing to whom you give yourself, in some
measure a state of slavery ? Now, all this is a consequence of matri-
mony. You are another's right ; and this is what is most essential
to it. Another's, I say, who had no property in you before, but
to whom you now belong, as having acquired an inalienable right
to your person. By the priesthood, I engaged myself to God only,
and to myself; to God, my supreme Master, to whom I already
belonged ; and to myself, who have from nature a power to rule
and govern myself. But this dominion which you had over your-
self, you transfer by marriage to another person ; and what is most
difficult, and most heroical in religious profession, becomes the chief
obligation of your state. Besides, I am not tied down by religious
profession to any particular person ; I am not always subject either
to this person, or to that, but sometimes to one, and sometimes to
another, which needs must greatly alleviate the yoke. Whereas,
in matrimony, your engagement is perpetual. If the person pleases
you, and is just such as your heart could wish, it is a great happi-

254 ON MATRIMONY.

ness ; but if the husband pleases not the wife, or if the wife doth
not suit the husband, they are not the less tied together for that ;
and what a torment must be such a union !

I shall add, my brethren, another difference, but a very remark-
able one, between both our conditions. It is this : previous to the
engagement in a religious state, there is a noviciate, and a time of
trial, which is not the case with respect to matrimony. Of all the
conditions in life, (says St. Jerom,) matrimony is that which should
most particularly be left to our choice, and of all conditions it is
the least so. You enter into engagements, and you know not with
whom ; for you know not the sense, the temper, the disposition,
the qualifications of the person with whom you join in so strict an
alliance, till you have given your word, and it is too late to think
of retracting. While this young man pays his addresses to you,
he is all complaisance, all mildness, moderation, and virtue ; but
when the indissoluble knot is tied, you will soon discover what he
is. You will see bluntness succeed to this affected mildness ; vio-
lence to this supposed moderation ; and debauchery to this hypo-
critical virtue. While this young woman remains unmarried, and
her only wish is to give you her hand, she behaves with composure,
and counterfeits her character ; but when once she finds this circum-
spection and care to please you are not so necessary, you will soon
be plagued with her whims, humours, stubbornness and haughti-
ness. Do what you please, take all precautions, use what care,
diligence, and address you will, you must run some hazard in the
marriage contract, which made Solomon say, that " a house and
riches are given by parents, but a prudent wife is from the Lord."
Prov. xix.

Consider, therefore, seriously my brethren, what such an engage-
ment is, and such a servitude for all one's life, without redress.
There is no vow, how solemn soever, with which the church may
not dispense ; but as to marriage, her hands are, as I may say, tied,
her power not extending so far. An engagement which appeared
to the apostles of such consequence, that they judged the state of
celibacy preferable to it. " If the case of the man be so with his
wife, it is not good to marry." Matt. xix. And what reply did
our Saviour make ? Did he blame this sentiment so unfavourable
to matrimony ? He approved of it ; he confirmed it ; he congra-
tulated with them upon then having comprehended what others
were unable to comprehend : " All men cannot take this saying."

ON MATRIMONY. 255

Matt. xix. The reason of it is, that they plainly saw how heavy
a burden it would prove for the greater part of those who should
receive this sacrament.

In other respects, beloved Christians, my intent is not so much
to give you a horror of it, as to let you see how greatly the divine
assistance is necessary in the marriage state, and of what impor-
tance it is to beware of engaging in it against the will of God.
Alas ! how many have we seen, and do we see at this day, sinking
and groaning under the galling yoke, or dragging it with difficulty,
and lamentably complaining of their misfortune! How many
wretches in the world are happy in appearance, but repine in
secret silence at the slavery to which they are reduced ! the more
to be pitied, because they have scarce a right to our pity. For
who loaded them with those shackles, with the weight of which
they are borne down ? Was it God, whom they neglected to
consult ? Was it not themselves ? And with face can they bend
the knee at the foot of the altar, and beg consolation of the Lord,
by saying, hold me up, O Lord, or break my chain, or at least
afford me your aid to carry it. What but this, or the like answer,
could they expect ? It was not I that tied the knot ; my advice
was not applied for ; I am under no engagement to help you in
your distress, or to ease your pain by applying remedies to your
wounds.

2ndly. What enhances the trouble, and makes it more insup-
portable is, the companionship of which marriage is the bond.
For although society, considered in itself, hath been always looked
upon as a good, yet on account of the extreme difficulty there is to
find minds mutually agreeable, and well assorted one to another,
we may say, in general, that solitude is preferable to it. If we
find it difficult to bear with ourselves, shall we find it easier to
bear with another ? I speak not of a thousand circumstances,
arising from the necessity of having all in common in the marriage
state. These are no other than the inconveniences of your con-
dition, but yet so general, that even the marriages of kings and
princes are not exempt from them. I shall confine myself to the
diversity of tempers, which too frequently thwarts the happiness
of man and wife. What contradictions and trials ! What causes
of mortification ! What need of patience ! A wise and sober
husband with a volatile and unsteady wife ; a regular and virtuous
wife with a libertine and impious husband. Of so many marriages

256 O N . M AT R I M O N T .

which we see contracted every day, how many are cemented by a
sympathy of hearts ? And should there be an antipathy, what
martyrdom can be more cruel ? But this would not be so bad a
case, if they would work thereby their sanctification ; if they would
carry their cross like good Christians, and of a sad necessity make
a virtue and a merit. This, however, is the most deplorable cir-
cumstance of all, that these domestic trials and contradictions but
serve to keep you the farther from God, and to make you the
more criminal in his divine presence. Thus circumstanced, mar-
ried persons seek comfort abroad ; they turn their inclinations into
another channel, and what irregularities doth not this draw after
it ? What animosities and aversions do they not harbour in their
breasts ? With what murmurs and complaints, in what distress,
despair, and resentment, is a long succession of years run out ?
They remain in these dispositions till death ; and (as St. Bernard
said) all they do is, to go from one hell to another, from a hell of
sin and wickedness to a hell of pains and punishments ; from the
hell of matrimony to the hell of the devils and the damned.

But these, you say, are extremes. True : and yet although they
are extremes, there is nothing more common in the marriage
state ; nor can anything more plainly discover the weight of it,
than that married people so frequently run into such extremes. If
you had taken to this state by the appointment of God : if you
had not chosen it of your own accord, or had not taken to it but
by the call of God, according to the will and views of God, under
the direction and protection of God, his grace would have made
it supportable and easy, and his Providence would have watched
over all your necessities. He would have brought you, like
Rebecca, to the man that was appointed for you, and that was
suitable to you. He would have given to your words a particular
efficacy, and to your cares a particular blessing, to render this hus-
band more gentle and compliant ; to give him more steadiness and
consistency ; to withdraw him from his debauchery, to calm his
disquietudes, to dissipate his jealousies. At least, in times of low
spirits and disgust, of discouragement and contempt, of crosses and
vexations, to which you are exposed, by supplying you with a
supernatural and divine force, he would have enabled you to undergo
them ; and by his inward unction, (even when you were beset with
external troubles,) he would have made you taste, in the bottom of
your soul, the sweets and joys of a holy peace. But because you

ON MATRIMONY. 257

blindly, and of your own head, put on, (as I may say,) your own
fetters, he suffers you to feel the whole weight and inconvenience
of them. That is, (and you know it but too well,) he suffers you
to be plagued with all the oddities of a whimsical husband, all the
haughtiness of an imperious husband, all the bluntness of a violent
husband, all the stinginess of a covetous husband, all the dissipa-
tion of a prodigal husband, all the fastidiousness of an unaffectionate
and indifferent husband, all the absurdities and preposterous notions
of a jealous husband. He lets yourself take so wrong a turn, that
instead of seeking, in Christian patience, and sage moderation, a
remedy for the ills with which you are afflicted, you greatly increase
them ; that you become a vain woman, an indiscreet woman, a
woman addicted to worldly pleasures and dissipation, an obstinate
and head strong woman ; that you yourself should have your vicis-
situdes and inconstancies, your vivacity and passion, your bitter-
ness of soul, and haughtiness of mind ; and that you and your hus-
band accord in nothing, but in blowing and stirring up the fire of
discord, and making your condition more and more wretched.

3rdly. This is not all : a third source of afflictions and sorrows
in the marriage state, (and 1 may venture to call it an inexhaust-
ible one,) is the education of children. " A wise son, (says Solo-
mon,) maketh glad his father ; but a foolish son is the grief of his
mother." Prov. x. But, without in the least altering the words of
the divine Spirit, I may add, in another sense, that the bringing
up of children, whether regular or irregular in their conduct and
behaviour, is generally for parents a cumbrous burden and a heavy
cross. I speak not of the cares and attention which the earliest
infancy requires, subject to a thousand weaknesses, to which you
must condescend ; to a thousand necessities which you must relieve ;
to a thousand accidents which you must guard against. Let us
suppose them in a more advanced age, at a time of life when they
begin properly to make themselves known, either by their good or
bad qualifications. I will suppose, if you please, that they are well
conditioned, and have all the appearance of doing well hereafter.
But are you, upon that account, enabled to provide for their sub-
sistence and advancement ? Are you, upon that account, certain
of not losing them in the bloom of their years ? What a melan-
choly thing it is, for instance, to have a numerous family, and to
want the means of providing for them ! To have children capable
of any business, and not be able to procure them employment. To

258 ON MATRIMONY.

be under a necessity of letting them pass their days in a constrained
idleness and obscurity, in which their birth, the credit of their
family, and their personal merit* are buried and lost ! What sorrow
and regret, when an unforeseen accident, an unexpected death,
snatches children aAvay, all at once, on whom their parents doted
and built their fondest hopes, proposing to transmit to them large
estates and illustrious titles ! It was expected that they would
keep up their great families, which are now extinct, or on the point
of becoming so. Now you know that these are not extraordinary
events in the world, from which no consequence can be drawn ;
and you know what common experience teaches in this respect.

But what you know still better, because more common, is, how
much unfortunate parents undergo in bringing up undutiful and
untractable children ; in maintaining children without talents or
genius ; in correcting the faults of perverse children ; in prevailing
upon ungrateful and unfeeling children ; in bringing children aban-
doned to their passions, irregular and debauched children, prodigal
and profuse children, back to their duty. And what is more com-
mon than to see families full of such children ? Ungovernable chil-
dren, who are always ready to fly in the face of those who expos-
tulate with them, and give them wholesome advice and instructions.
HI disposed children, whose whole inclinations are to vice, and who
are unsusceptible of any impressions of Christianity, or even honour.
Unteachable children, whom their parents wish to educate pro-
perly, in order to procure their advancement in the world, but on
whom, for want of capacity and disposition, all their care and atten-
tion are lost. Ungrateful children, who have no feeling of what
is done for them, and who make no return for favours received, but
by giving cause of sorrow and vexation, the more galling, because
there was no reason to expect it. Unthinking children, whom
a blind precipitancy is perpetually plunging into perplexities.
Debauched children, whom passion hurries into irregularities that
bring themselves into contempt, and reflect disgrace on such as are
connected with them. Prodigal children, who borrow on all sides,
and from all sorts of people, for extravagant purposes, not at all
solicitous about future payment, or the consequence that must
ensue.

But what occasion to enlarge any farther upon this head ? What
can I say which you have not yourselves from experience, a better
knowledge of than I can pretend to ? Is it not this, ye father?

on matrimony. 250

and mothers, that plants thorns under your pillows ? Is it not this
that whelms you into the depth of melancholy, or that drives you
into frantic raptures of rage and despair ? Is it not this that rives
your hearts, and makes you say on so many occasions, what the
mother of Jacob and Esau said: "If it was to be so, what need
for me to conceive?" Gen. xxx. If these be the fruits of wedded
love, had it not been better I had never thought of it ? How happy
the state, in which, free and disengaged from all worldly care, one
hath nothing to mind but one's own person ! This you say, beloved
hearer, and not without reason. But what is still more certain,
and what you should reproach yourself with in the presence of God,
is, that therefore you ought not to have determined so speedily on
a choice of which the consequence was so much to be apprehended ;
that you ought to have taken proper measures, by consul tin g
Almighty God in prayer, and advising with his ministers, whom
he hath appointed to be the interpreters of his will : that you ought
to have weighed the matter thoroughly, not by the false maxims
of the world, but by the precepts of the gospel ; in short, that you
ought to have done everything in your power, before you fixed
your choice on wedlock, to be well informed of its obligations, of
its difficulties, and in the last place, of its dangers, wThich I am
going to make appear in the third part.

Part III. There is no condition exempt from danger, I mean
danger respecting salvation. Not general ones only, but particular
ones, and peculiar to each state. Solitude itself is not free from
them ; and the very anchorets were obliged to fight in defence of
then* innocence, and defend themselves against the attacks to
which they were exposed. Neither have these succeeded on all
occasions. And how often hath the church seen her most illus-
trious beacons extinguished, and wept the fall of those whom she
proposed to plaeo one day in the roll of saints ! But, further ;
according to the opinion of the fathers and of Christian moralists,
if every state be exposed to danger, we may safely say, that matri-
mony is one of the most dangerous. The proof of it is this : because
in matrimony things must be reconciled, which are not easily recon-
cileable, which arc seldom met with in conjunction, which in the
common estimation of men seem incompatible, and yet without
which it is impossible to be saved : for the point is, to reconcile
conjugal liberty with continence and chastity ; a true and intimate
friendship for a creature, with an inviolable fidelity to the Creator ;

260 ON MATRIMONY.

an exact, diligent, watchful care of temporal affairs, with an exter-
nal disengagement from the things of this world. On what is all
this founded ? On the same qualities of matrimony, which are the
ground- work of this discourse.

Take notice, Christians. If anything enhances the crime of
incontinence in the marriage state, before Almighty God, it is the
dignity of the sacrament ; and yet no state is more subject than
that of marriage to the excesses of a passion without rule or mea-
sure. What is it that most forcibly impels a wife, and even obliges
her to espouse with most zeal the interests of her husband, and use
every possible means to please him ? Is it not that strict union of
fellowship which ought to subsist between the one and the other ?
But is it not this same zeal for a husband, this same attachment,
that puts her in evident danger of abandoning, on a thousand occa-
sions, the interests of God, and giving him displeasure ? In fine,
parents must be watchful and careful in regulating their families,
which if they neglect, they do not fulfil the duty of their consci-
ence, for that they are the guardians of their children, and having
given them life, it is incumbent on them to provide for their main-
tenance and education. Now is not this care to inspect a family,
to put children to business, to leave them a fortune sufficient to
maintain them according to the rank in which they were born, the
greatest and most dangerous of all temptations ? Is it not the most
specious and subtile pretext to authorize, in appearance, all the
injustices which a greedy avarice is wont to suggest ? And conse-
quently, is it not a continually subsisting occasion of committing
sin, and of being lost for ever ? Let us proceed : and you, beloved
hearers, whose state exposes you to so many dangers, at least open
your eyes, and learn the means to preserve yourselves from them.

1st. The first danger is, the incontinence of matrimony. I restrict
myself to that word ; and it is with difficulty I utter even that.
St. Jerom, writing to a virgin, and instructing her in the duties of
celibaey, a state in which she professed to live, was not afraid to
express his thoughts in certain terms that might hurt her delicacy.
And he gave for reason, that he deemed it better to run the hazard
of not speaking with sufficient reserve, than to hide truths from
her which immediately concerned her eternal welfare. And per-
haps he had reason so to deliver himself by letter. But in this
evangelical pulpit, Christians, my duty obliges me, without dis-
guising or varying the truth, to use the wise precaution, which the

ON MATRIMONY. 201

dignity of my ministry requires. You know what the law of Christ
commands, and what it forbids ; or, if you do not, all I can say is,
that it is of the utmost importance for you to know it thoroughly,
because your salvation is at stake : that matrimony is a state of
chastity and continence, as well as celibacy, whatever difference
there may be between them in other respects ; that there are laws
in matrimony, ordained by God, wliich it is not allowable to trans-
gress ; that all the irregularities committed in matrimony, far from
being excused, or in some shape justified by the sacrament, con-
tract thereby a particular malignity and deformity ; that you have
a conscience, to which you must hearken in this affair, and which
will judge you in the presence of God ; in a word, that (as St.
Jerom observes,) of the three kinds of "chastity, to wit, virginity,
widowhood, and matrimony, conjugal chastity, though the most
imperfect, is yet the most difficult ; because (continues this holy
doctor) it is much more easy to abstain entirely, than behave mode-
rately, and renounce absolutely to the flesh, your domestic enemy,
than prescribe its laws, and repress its sallies. Virginity, (adds
the same holy father,) by preserving itself, subdues almost without
fighting. Scarce is it acquainted with the danger, because it keeps
at a remote distance. We may say the same proportionably of
widowhood. But the case is entirely different with respect to con-
jugal chastity. Between that and impurity, there is only a step ;
but a step that leads to a crime deserving of eternal wo.

2ndly. To this first danger is annexed another, mutual fellow-
ship, of which the effect should be so perfect a union of hearts,
that for your spouse you should be disposed to give up everything,
to sacrifice everything, but with this exception so rare and delicate,
that conjugal love do not supersede the love of God ; that man and
wife should be so affected one to another, that at the same time
both the one and the other be still more strongly affected to God ;
that a wife, disposed to follow all the reasonable inclinations of her
husband, have still fortitude enough to resist him, whenever he
would have her fall in with his passions, bear a part in his irregu-
larities, lend an ear to his defamatory or impious discourses, join
in his resentments, or be aiding to his revenge. Accordingly, when
your husband hath received an injury, when he hath been unjustly
offended and outraged, it is allowable for you to be affected with
his case, to partake in his afflictions, to procure him just and suit-
able satisfaction : this you may do, nay, this you are bound to do.

262 ON MATRIMONY.

But to proceed farther ; to adopt his animosities and aversions, to
abet his frantic sallies and violence, to agree to everything which
an imbittered and inflamed heart inspires, is not to behave like a
Christian woman. That kind of fidelity is not the true one ; and
our blessed Saviour in instituting matrimony in his church, did
not mean it would serve as an handle to make the crimes of another
one's own. In like manner, should this husband, either from ambi-
tious or interested views, form unjust designs, and use his endea-
vours to make you a sharer in his wicked undertakings, then is the
time to act with resolution and a holy assurance, and to stand firm
in opposition to his iniquity. But I am bound to obey him ; no
obedience is due to him in prejudice to the law of God. But he
will not cohabit with me : his displeasure in that will be preferable
to his esteem. But there will be no peace or tranquillity in the
family : you will enjoy peace and tranquillity of conscience, and
that is enough. But he will leave no stone unturned to give me
uneasiness : it will give you an opportunity of exercising your pati-
ence,, and God, moreover, will afford you comfort. But how is it
possible to keep up perpetually that unshaken firmness, and to act
always resolutely and consistently ? That is not easy, I grant ;
and for that reason it was, that I proposed it as one of the greatest
difficulties of your state.

And this is what St. Paul meant to teach the Corinthians, when
he made the happiness of virgins to consist in not being divided be-
tween God and the work ; and in not being charged with the obli-
gation and care of pleasing men, but only Jesus Christ, the spouse
of their souls : " And the unmarried woman and the virgin thinketh
on the things of the Lord." 1 Cor. vii. Whereas, (adds he,) a
married woman is always at a loss how to preserve, at the same
time, the affection of her husband and the favour of God ; being
obliged to preserve, so far as she is able, both the one and the other,
and yet not knowing, on a thousand occasions, how to reconcile
both obligations. Insomuch, that she is under the afflicting neces-
sity of giving up one, in order inviolably to adhere to the other.
And this is what grieves her, what divides her heart, what fills her
mind with contrary thoughts, wishes, and affections ; what keeps
her in continually racking propensities, and frequently in the most
cruel uncertainties : " But she that is married thinketh on the things
of the world, how she may please her husband." 1 Cor. vii. And
here she is exposed to the greater danger, because, the presence of

ON MATRIMONY. 2()3

her husband, with whom she lives, and the necessity of being upon
good terms with him, make a deeper and more lasting impression
on her. If, perchance, at certain times, when resolution is more
strong, and grace more abundant, she hearkens to conscience, and
persists in her duty, it is much to be feared that this conscience,
in a continual struggle, will fail at last, and be overcome. Is it not
thus that a weak complaisance hath been the destruction of so many
wives, and brings such numbers of them every day to ruin ? They
were in heart and by inclination mild, patient, regular, upright ;
but an insatiable and avaricious husband, a choleric and revengeful
husband, a sensual and voluptuous husband, hath induced them to
become accomplices of his frauds, aversions, and lasciviousness.

3rdly. What shall I say, and what may not be said, of the last
danger, which is always concomitant with the care of a family, and
the education of children ? It is certain, and I have already shown
you sufficiently, that the education of children lays a strict obliga-
tion on you of attending to temporal affairs. But it is also certain,
that this obligation is a rock against which it is no easy matter to
avoid splitting. And who cannot see the extreme difficulty of
reconciling together the care of property, and a disengagement from
that same property ? According to the gospel, if you neglect to
provide for your children in a manner suitable to their condition,
you incur guilt in the presence of God ; and if again, in the view
of providing for your children, you suffer your heart to be possessed
with a desire and love of riches, you have no right to, or hopes of
salvation. In the marriage state, you are not allowed, as others
are, to relinquish everything, in order to follow Jesus Christ. You
must possess, you must preserve, you must labour in a reasonable
manner to acquire ; but in possessing, preserving, and acquiring,
you must wean your heart from all terrene affections. So speaks
St. Paul. Hearken to his words : " This, therefore, I say, bre-
thren ; it remaineth that they who have wives, be as though they
had none ; and they who buy, as though they possessed not ; and
they who use this world, as though they used it not." 1 Cor. vii.
The reason of it is given by the same apostle : " For, the figure
of this world passeth away." 1 Cor. viii. And for my part, I am
bold enough to add, applying to you this point of doctrine : because
the attention which you may give, and which you ought to give,
to the things of this world, takes off in no manner the obligation
of renouncing them in heart and will. This, our blessed Saviour,

2G4 ON MATRIMONY.

made a general law for all mankind ; and as this law, St. Chry-
sostom tells us, cannot mean a real and effective renunciation, it
must be understood, necessarily, of mental renunciation, " He that
forsaketh not all." Luke xiv. That is, Christians, when the
Saviour of the world pronounced this oracle, he spoke of you as
well as of me, with this material difference, however, that when he
laid this command on you, he laid a heavier weight on you than on
me. For he would not have this inward disengagement from
worldly things in the least diminish the vigilance necessary to pre-
serve your fortune, and support your family. Now, to join toge-
ther both the one and the other, is what I denominate the heroical
virtue of your state. And how, you will say, is it possible to ar-
rive at that pitch of evangelical poverty ? To this, I answer, as
our Saviour himself answered on a subject nearly parallel: It is
impossible for men, but not for God. It is impossible for those
who intrude themselves unadvisedly, and without the grace of
God's call, into the matrimonial state ; or who having this grace,
use it not in the manner they ought to do. But for those who are
faithful to it, everything is possible. Abraham lived in the same
state that you do, had a family to mind and maintain as you have,
and enjoyed a larger property than you do ; and yet these perish-
able possessions never excited the least desire or covetousness in
his heart.

Be that as it may, beloved hearers, you know the obligations
attending wedlock ; you know its difficulties, neither are you igno-
rant of its dangers : and, by consequence, you see how much it
imports you to be instructed, conducted, and assisted in it by God :
that is, how much it imports you not to engage in it, but with the
approbation of God, and to draw down upon you in it the grace of
God. But if it was not by the divine appointment that you have
entered into the marriage state, is there no remedy, or what are
you to do ? You must do what the penitent sinner doth. He
repairs, by the grace of penitence, what he lost by losing the grace
of innocence. In like manner, you will repair, after the marriage
contract, the evil you committed by cantracting marriage, not hav-
ing the first graces of this state ; by recurring to God you must
obtain the second. For, God hath secondary graces to supply the
deficiency of the first ; and in these it is you must place your con-
fidence. However, as they are not so frequent and abundant, when
they have not been preceded by the others, what remains for you

ON WORLDLY DIVERSIONS. 2(35

to do is, to watch over yourself with more attention; to apply with
more zeal to all the duties of a state in which it is now God's will
that you persevere ; to conceive a more lively and bitter repent-
ance of the misdemeanor into which you have fallen through your
own fault ; to redouble your prayers, upon that account, and to cry
out the more vehemently to the Lord. Ah ! my God, (must you
say with fervour, as the brother of Jacob said to Isaac, after having
lost his right of primogeniture,) " Have you but one benediction,
father ?" Gen. xxvii. True it is, my Lord, I have deviated from
the right path which you pointed out to me. But have you there-
fore rejected me ? And doth your good Providence want means
to repair the loss I have suffered ? Cast, O my God, once more
a favourable eye upon me. Do not abandon me to myself, for that
I am determined henceforward to leave myself to be wholly
governed by your divine will : " Give me, likewise, I beseech thee,
thy benediction." Gen. xxvii. He will hearken to your vows,
beloved hearer ; and by a fresh exertion of his divine mercy, he will
assume other views of predestination in your regard, and will direct
you into the harbour of everlasting bliss.

SERMON XIII.

ON WORLDLY DIVERSIONS.

For the Third Sunday after Easter.

" Verily, verily, I say unto you, that ye shall iceep and lament,
but the world will rejoice." John xvi.

It is Jesus Christ that speaks, beloved Christians ; and that in a
few words pronounces, in the gospel, two judgments directly con-
trary to each other : one, in favour of his chosen servants, repre-
sented in the apostles ; the other, against sinners, who compose
this world, a world which he hath so loudly reprobated, and against
which he hath so often thundered out his curses. Ye shall weep
and lament in sufferings and heart-corroding anxieties, is the por-
tion of the predestinate ; but to rejoice, and enjoy all the pleasures
of life, is the portion of sinners* What a portion, after all, beloved

s

%66 ON WORLDLY DIVERSIONS.

Christians ! Could you ever have thought the case to be such ?
Are these the means by which the Son of God threatens to chas-
tise the enemies of his gospel ? Are these the rewards he promises
those who shall faithfully and constantly tread in his footsteps ?
And according to our notions, ought he not, it should seem, to in-
vert the proposition, and say to the righteous, "ye shall rejoice;"
and to the wicked, " ye shall sink under a heavy load of vexations,
and pass your days overwhelmed with sorrow ?" This, beloved
Christians, he should have done, according to the notions of man-
kind ; that is, according to the weak and limited notions of carnal
prudence. But the divine Wisdom hath views infinitely superior
to those of men ; and in order to fulfil the designs of men to the
advantage of the elect, it was necessary they should give up the
diversions of the world ; because how good and pleasing soever an
appearance they may wear, they end unhappily, and lead to perdi-
tion. Wherefore, observe, what our Saviour adds for the comfort
of his disciples : " After having passed (says he) your days in tears,
your grief shall be converted into joy," a solid, lasting, eternal joy ;
giving them, by an opposite rule, to understand, that the deceitful
joys of the world would end in the utmost wretchedness. A great
and terrible truth, which I mean this day to develope, and the im-
portance of which will appear in the sequel of tliis discourse.

I mean not to exaggerate, beloved Christians ; neither is it my
design to condemn all diversions, without exception. I am aware
of the decree which our blessed Saviour hath passed against those
who enjoy the good things of this world, when he says : " Wo to
you that laugh, to you who seek the pleasures of this life ; wo to
you, because ye have your consolation." Luke vi. You, who enjoy
felicity, and make that felicity consist in the vain enjoyments of
the earth. But without wresting the words of Jesus Christ to an
unnatural sense, or giving them an interpretation in any wTise too
favourable, it is a justice I owe to truth, to acknowledge, that there
are recreations innocent and becoming, and consequently permitted
according to the rules prescribed by the gospel. It is not, there-
fore, my intention to assert, that all the diversions of the wrorld are
criminal, and reprobated by Almighty God. But yet I declare
with St. Gregory, pope, who said it before me, that those diver-
sions which in the world are permitted and innocent, are very rare ;
that those diversions which in the world are becoming and decent,
are few in number ; in a word, that the greatest part of those diver-

ON WORLDLY DIVERSIONS. 2G7

sions which have obtained in the world, are higlily deserving of
condemnation. This I ground upon three principles, in which is
comprised the whole of my subject, and which is well worthy of
your serious attention. These diversions of the world I shall con-
sider in their nature, in their extent, and in their effects. Now I
hold, as you shall see, that they are almost all of them —

Either impure and forbidden in their nature ; and this is the
first part :

Or excessive in their extent ; and this is the second part :

Or, in fine, scandalous in their effects ; and this is the third and
last part*

Be attentive, I beseech you, to these three reflections, which
require a more than common elucidation, and on which I shall
endeavour to throw what light is needful.

Part I. Tertullian hath a very opposite observation in the trea-
tise he composed of " Public Exhibitions." He says, that the
ignorance of the mind of man is never more presumptuous, nor ever
pretends to philosophize and reason with more precision, than when
he is forbidden the use of some diversion or pleasure, of which he
is in possession, and of which he thinks the possession lawful. For
then he puts himself upon the defensive, becomes subtile and inge-
nious, strikes out by thinking a thousand pretexts to maintain his
right ; and, in the apprehension of being deprived of that which
pleases, he at last persuades himself that what he desires is becom-
ing and innocent, though at bottom criminal, and directly contrary
to the lawr of God. And, indeed, it is to this is owing the daily
and melancholy decay of morals among Christians. A thing is
agreeable, or seems to be so ; and because it is agreeable, we in-
dulge a love of it ; and because we love it, we imagine it good ;
and by dint of imagining, we work ourselves into a kind of con-
viction, in virtue of which we proceed to action, to the prejudice
of conscience, and in opposition to the most pure lights of grace.
Now, let us apply this general maxim to particular points, and to
that especially which is the subject of this discussion.

I hold that there are diversions in the world, which pass for
lawful, and which people of the world authorise as it were by com-
mon agreement, but which the Christian law condemns, and which
are incompatible with integrity of life and purity of manners. Let
us descend to particulars ; for otherwise, Christians, you might be
at a loss to see the force of my propositions, and perhaps, in prac-

s2

268 ON WORLDLY DIVERSIONS,

tice, whatever I should say would produce no fruit. Wherefore,
let us reason upon topics the most ordinary, and the best known ;
topics nearly the same as those which Tertullian hath handled with
his usual energy. Hearken to this :

1st. I ask, for instance, whether or not those profane exhibitions,
those spectacles, to which your idle and voluptuous worldlings re-
sort ; public meetings of mere pleasure, where all are admitted who
come desirous to see and be seen ; in a word, to preclude all ambi-
guity, whether or not plays and balls be forbidden diversions ?
Some, enlightened wTith the true light, the light of the gospel, dis-
allow them : others, deceived by false lights, the lights ol carnal
prudence, vindicate them, or at least strain every nerve to vindi-
cate them. Every one follows his own notions, and decides accord-
ingly. For my own part, Christians, though such amusements
were not forbidden me by my profession, and 1 had it in my option
to do as I pleased, I verily think there would need no more, to
make me renounce them, than this diversity and clashing of senti-
ments. For why (would I say) should I run the risk of wounding
my conscience for so small a matter, the loss of which is attended
with little or no inconvenience ? On one hand, 1 am assured, that
diversions of this kind are criminal ; and on the other it is affirmed,
that they are no way sinful. The result of which can be no other,
than that the case is doubtful ; and as they who maintain that inno-
cence is lost by such diversions, are, without comparison, the most
regular in their conduct, the most attached to their duty, the most
knowing in the ways of God and godliness, is it not more secure,
and more agreeable to the rules of prudence, to be guided by them,
than so very lightly to put my eternal doom in jeopardy ? Thus,
I should conclude ; and the conclusion, no doubt, would coincide
with reason and good sense.

But I would not stop there ; more weighty considerations should
fix my resolution. What then would I do ? Following the inspi-
ration of the divine Spirit, I would considt those whom God in his
wisdom hath given me for masters, the fathers of the church !
" Ask thy father, and he wTill declare it to thee ; thy forefathers,
and they will tell it thee ;" (Deut. xxxii ;) and having taken their
opinion, it were hard to conceive, that any nicety of conscience
should hinder me from being absolutely convinced upon tins head.
For they would teach me truths capable not only to determine my
judgment, but to inspire me with a horror of these diversions ►

ON WORLDLY DIVERSIONS. *2t>9

They would tell me that the pagans themselves proscribed them,
as prejudicial and contagious. We need only peruse what St. Au-
gustin hath remarked in his excellent work, " The City of God,"
and the admirable edicts he mentions to the shame of those who
would patronise, among Christians, that which paganism had
rejected. They would tell me, that in the primitive ages of the
church, to abandon plays and balls was an undeniable mark of reli-
gion ; and, in particular, that they censured the theatre, not only
because in those times it helped to promote idolatry and supersti-
tion, but because it was a school of debauchery and lewdness. Now
I leave you to judge, whether it be not the same thing at this day,
and whether the fatal contagion of impurity be not the more to be
dreaded and shunned, as it is the more disguised and refined. True
it is, that the language of the stage is now more chaste, more stu-
died and correct ; but experience hath taught you, that this lan-
guage neither tarnishes the mind, nor corrupts the heart the less
for that ; and that in all probability it were better hear the adul-
teries of Jupiter and other heathen gods, the stories of which,
expressed openly and without reserve, would offend the ear, and
not make so deep an impression on the soul. They would tell me,
than in the general opinion of the faithful, no one could keep the
oath and promise he made in baptism, so long as his heart remained
attached to these frivolous pastimes. For, it is mocking God him-
self, my brother, (says St. Cyprian,) to have renounced the devil,
by receiving, as you did, in the sacred laver of regeneration, the
grace of Jesus Christ, and now to go in quest of the false joys
which the same infernal spirit affords you at balls and plays. They
would tell me, that the church, in this respect, had exerted her
discipline with extreme rigour, and that this rigour was sometimes
carried to such a pitch, that it proved sometimes an obstacle to the
conversion of infidels. Insomuch, (says Tertullian,) that well nigh
as many were found to keep back from our holy faith, for fear of
being debarred from these divertisements, which it condemned, as
for fear of undergoing death and martyrdom, with which they were
threatened by bloody tyrants.

This, I say, is what these holy doctors would tell me, and what
they tell you. This is their tradition, these their reflections, this
their doctrine. Take notice : I do not say that this was the doc-
trine of one of these great men, but of them all ; so that all of them,
with one unanimous consent, were agreed in this point, had all but

270 ON WORLDLY DIVERSIONS.

one voice, and not unfrequently the same expressions. I do not
say that this was their doctrine at one time, which changed at ano-
ther : from age to age they succeeded one another, and in every
age they renewed the same prohibitory rules, taught the same
maxims, made the same declarations. I do not say that this was
the doctrine of weak and unintelligent men, narrow in their views,
and timid or precipitate in their decisions. Setting aside their
sanctity, which renders their memory venerable to us, we know
they were the prime geniuses of the world. Their writings are
come down to us, and in our hands ; and in them we discover the
sublimity of their wisdom, the penetration of their minds, and the
depth and extent of their erudition. I do not say that this was a
doctrine tending only to inculcate wTorks of perfection, and of mere
counsel ; we need but weigh their words, and take them in the
most natural and obvious sense. Upon what other subject have
they explained their sentiments with more rigour ? Of what have
they made us more to apprehend the dreadful consequences ? And
to what have they attributed more fatal effects ? I do not say that
this was a doctrine founded in particular reasons, and owing to the
particular circumstances of the times. They gave no other reasons
than we give ; they had no other to give. What they said against
the stage, assemblies, and balls, from which we use our endeavours
to withhold you, that we also say ; and what they said, we have as
good a right to say as they had. In fine, I do not say that this
was a doctrine addressed to certain states and conditions, to certain
characters and understandings. They distinguished neither quality,
nor rank, nor constitution, nor disposition. They spoke to Chris-
tians like you, and they spoke to all. In vain did some make the
same answer that is still made, on which St. Chrysostom excel-
lently remarks : " Whatever 1 see, and whatever I hear, diverts
me, and no more ; otherwise, it makes no impression on me, neither
am I in the least affected wTith it. A ridiculous excuse, which they
deemed a disguisement and insincerity, or at least a delusion, and
an error in judgment : a disguisement and insincerity, because they
well knew that it was a pretext of which the most profligate would
sometimes avail themselves ; at least a delusion and an error in
judgment, because they well knew how glad people are to impose
on themselves, and what progress passion usually makes, which
they do not perceive at first, nay, will not perceive, but which is
at last but too perceptible.

ON WOttLDLY DIVERSIONS. 271

Now, beloved hearers, what can the partizans of the world object
to testimonies so express, so positively declared, and so respectable ?
Whom will they believe, if they will not submit to such an autho-
rity ? And would it not be an insufferable rashness, of which no
Christian of good sense will ever be guilty, to assert or pretend
that these men of God were all in the wrong, that they carried
things too far, and that in the present age we are more knowing
and enlightened than they were ? Nevertheless, there are, who,
without hesitation, appeal from all this to their own judgments,
and make no conscience, or the least scruple, of that which all the
fathers of the church have loudly reprobated, and branded as sinful.
Be pleased to consider the whole of the case. Conscience and sal-
vation are the things in question ; and all the competent, all the
acknowledged and authorized judges in things of this nature, have
passed their decision ; but some worldlings judge very differently.
Mind what I say ; some worldlings. For at least if it had been
the pastors of the faithful, teachers of morality, ministers of the
altar, spiritual directors, preachers of the Word, that now held
among us, on the question I am treating, principles not equally
severe with those of all antiquity ; and if these principles had been
generally and constantly followed by the most orthodox part of
Christians, perhaps then it might be more supportable that people
should examine, and hold arguments. But you know how it is ;
preachers in the pulpit, directors in the sacred tribunal of pen-
ance, doctors in the schools, pastors of the faithful, ministers of the
altar, all still hold the same language, which is corroborated by that
of all the true children, and the truly faithful of God's church.
Who, then, are the rest ? I have already said it — some worldlings :
that is to say, a certain number of libertine men, lovers of them-
selves, and fond of pleasure to a great degree ; men destitute of
learning or knowledge, and without attention to their salvation :
and vain women, who know how to deck and dizen their persons,
and no more ; whose whole ambition is to go abroad, and be taken
notice of; whose only care is to kill the tedious hours of life not
consecrated to amusements ; but, what is infinitely more deplorable,
who leave no means untried to feed and inflame their passions,
whereas, they should leave no stone unturned to extinguish and
deaden it. These are the oracles which would fain be heard, and
who, in fact, are heard but too much ; these are the great doctors
and masters, whose lights put out all other lights, and whose deter-

272 ON WORLDLY DIVERSIONS.

urinations are absolute and unanswerable : these are the guides,
■whose ways are the straightest ; these the sureties we may safely
take for our conscience, our salvation, and our eternal welfare.
Ah ! Christians, I leave you to judge of the matter yourselves, I
leave you to draw your own conclusions, while I pass to an article
of another nature, equally important, and equally common.

2ndly. For I may reckon, moreover, among criminal diversions,
and place them in that class, your fabulous histories, novels, and
romances, the reading of which is another occupation at idle times
in the present age, and which is attended with the same conse-
quences. These afford subject of conversation to young persons,
who employ whole hours in storing their minds with chimerical
ideas ; who burden their memories with quite imaginary fictions
and intrigues, and are very careful to retain the most striking and
shining passages ; who, know them all, and who knowing them all,
know nothing. It would, however, be of little consequence, if they
knew nothing, were that the only ill to be feared. But here is the
essential and capital point, and on which I would insist, namely ;
that nothing is more capable to corrupt purity and innocence of
heart, than bad books : that nothing diffuses through the whole
soid a more subtile, deadly, and speedy poison ; and that, therefore,
nothing can, with greater reason, be more strictly forbidden. Rea-
son, experience, the avowal of those who have had experience,
everything concurs to evince the truth of this assertion. And I
ask you, in effect, beloved hearer, you, to whom I speak, and who
have within yourself your conscience for a witness to what I say :
Is it not true, that proportionably as you addicted yourself to this
kind of reading, and it gave you delight, your relish for piety in-
sensibly diminished, and all the warmth of your devotion abated ?
I say more : is it not true, that by the custom you got of reading
such books, the spirit of the world took possession of your heart ;
that you perceived the spirit of Christianity to slacken, and grow
weaker and weaker ; that the principles instilled into your mind by
a good education, were considerably altered ; that your head was
filled with ridiculous conceptions of gallantry and vanity ; and that
everything else, how much soever more solid and serious, became
first insipid, then disagreeable, and at last odious and insupportable.

This is not all. But then keep nothing hid from yourself; ac-
knowledge the whole truth of the matter. Is it not true, that by
reading such works, and having constantly in your hands such

ON WORLDLY DIVERSIONS. 273

seeds of depravity, you have admitted imperceptibly into your soul
the demon of incontinence? What else gave rise to sensual
thoughts ? What else excited indelicate sentiments ? What else
occasioned indecent words ? Was it not by these, and the like
means, that the flesh predominated over the spirit, and that you
became a different person from what you had been till that time ?
Perhaps it surprises you ; but for my part I am not at all surprised
at it, as it was impossible, without a miracle, that it should not be
so. Having books of that kind, day after day before your eyes,
and these books being so infected as they are, it was morally impos-
sible that you should not catch the deadly venom, and that they
should not communicate their venom to you. For (to speak in the
language of the world, and to use the proper term) what, in strict
propriety of speech, is a romance ? A history, or, more properly,
a fable executed in the form of a history, in which love is handled
according to art and rule ; in which the ruling passion, and spring
of all other passions, is love ; in which are expressed, in lively co-
lours, all the foibles, raptures, capriciousness, and extravagance of
love ; in which nothing is seen but maxims of love, protestations
of love, artifice, tricks, and wiles of love ; in which every interest
(though it were the most dear according to the notions of mankind)
is superseded for love ; in which an infatuated man is governed by
nothing but love, insomuch, that love is his whole occupation, his
whole life, his whole object, his end, his happiness, his God and all.
Tell me if I exaggerate ; but tell me at the same time how, so frail
as we are, and so prone to evil, it is possible such thoughts should
run incessantly in the imagination, without making a deep impres-
sion on the heart ? How should the greatest saints resist them ?
Would not even an angel be overcome by them ? Would not they
make innocence herself to fail, and to suffer shipwreck ? Or, tell
me how, in a religion so pure and holy as ours, a Christian can be
allowed to expose the purity of his heart to so evident and imme-
diate a ruin ?

But you will object : The books I read treat of honourable love.
It is a mistaken notion, beloved hearers. Do you call that honour-
able, which possesses a man, and bewitches him to that degree as
to deprive him of sense and reason, takes up all his thoughts, en-
grosses all his care, and, at the expense of the Creator, makes him
an adorer of a creature ? Do you call that honourable, which
makes a man forget the most sacred duties he owes to nature, to

274 ON WORLDLY DIVERSIONS.

his country, to justice, to honour, and to charity ? And is it not
frequently to that end the whole drift of a romance tends ?

But this kind of reading is instructive for young persons, as it
gives them a knowledge of the world. Ah ! Christians, is a know-
ledge of the world so necessary for you, that you should, for the
sake of it, give up your salvation ? And were it not better to be
eternally ignorant of the ways of the world, than not save your
soul upon those terms ? Yes, truly ; these books will give you
an insight into the ways of the world, but of what world ? Of a
pagan world ; of an impious and perverted world ; of a world con-
demned by the laws of Christ Jesus ; of a world, the worst and
most dangerous enemy you have to combat with. Now only ex-
amine whether these be the documents you would wish to follow ;
whether there be not another world to which you might restrict
yourself; whether there be not among the Christian people ano-
ther kind of politeness than that which paves the way to damnation ;
whether there be not another kind of masters to instruct you and
teach you the ways of the world.

Fathers and mothers, this is an excellent lesson for you. I shall
close this first part wTith it ; and I supplicate the Almighty that
you may comprehend the whole force and consequence of it. You
have children to bring up ; and after having first used your best
endeavours to inspire them with sentiments of Christian piety and
religion, I must needs own, lays you under no prohibition to teach
them a genteel carriage and polite behaviour. But to supply them
yourselves, under this hellish pretext, with books that give their
minds a bent to whatever is vicious in the world ; to stock your
houses with them, and see that they read whatever comes out of
that sort ; to examine them, and hear with complacency the exact
account they give ; to think them clever and well instructed, when
they have learned to reply to ambiguous words by other words of
loose poetry, which they keep in memory, and repeat accurately ;
to carry them yourselves — (for this concerns every point of morality
I have touched upon) — to carry them yourselves to plays and
operas, the more likely to spoil them, because young hearts are the
most flexible, and susceptible of impression ; to make them observe
the most refined and delicate passages, especially the most lively
and tender ; to make them, yourselves, appear at routes, balls and
assemblies, where all things they see are so many lures to seduc-
tion and ruin. Of all this, you will have good reason to repent in

ON WORLDLY DIVERSIONS. 275

this life, and for all this you will be severely punished in the other.
As yet these are only diversions for them ; but stay till the fire be
thoroughly kindled, and these diversions will speedily become, both
for you and for them, very serious matters. Will it then be time
to stop the conflagration ? Will it then be in your power to stop
the evils of which you had been yourselves the authors ? You
will sob and moan for it ; but will sobbing and moaning be a suffi-
cient atonement in the presence of God ? What excuse will you
offer at his bar ? Will it be a good plea to say, that you meant to
bring up your children, and make them see life ? What could you
mean but their destruction, and your own too ? We must admit,
therefore, the proposition on which I grounded my argument, that
the greatest part of worldly diversions arc deserving of censure ;
either because in their nature they are impure and criminal, as you
have now seen ; or, because they are excessive in their extent and
measure, as I am going to make appear in the second part.

Part II. All excess, Christians, is a vice ; and virtue itself,
which is the rule of all good, is neither good nor honourable, when
carried beyond its limits. Wise we must be ; but it must be with
sobriety, as St. Paul tells us : and whoever is too wise, is not wise
at all ; because wisdom is essentially a state of reason, and conse-
quently, of moderation : " Not to think more highly of himself,
than he ought to think, but to think with sobriety." Rom. xii.
Now if this be true with respect to virtue, it is much more so with
regard to the diversions and pastimes of life. If, to be wise, we
must beware of running into excess, with still greater reason should
we avoid excess, to divert ourselves wisely. Nevertheless, beloved
hearers, there are diversions in the world, in which excess is so very
common, that although they might be deemed, in other respects,
allowable, lawful, and innocent, they are almost always deserving
of condemnation, because almost always carried to excess. I do
not take upon me to run them all over. Indeed, nothing is farther
from my thoughts ; for it would be an endless task. May I then
be permitted to enlarge on one, on which I have not, as yet, so
fully and clearly discoursed as the subject requires, and which I
shall make the whole ground- work of this second part : it is the
" play," the origin of a thousand evils ; so that I cannot encounter
a passion for it with too much vehemence. •

You know how it is : they game, and to such an excess, too,
that the very persons who are guilty of it are inclined to condemn

276 O^ WORLDLY INVERSIONS.

it. Let me take, for instance, a professed gamester, and beg of
him to tell me, in the presence of God, whether or not he games
too much ; I say, too much according to reason, Christianity, and
conscience ; and he will answer in the affirmative. Indeed, in most
games, especially those which the custom of the world hath chiefly
authorized, there are three sorts of excess, which stand in opposi-
tion to reason and religion. Excess in the time taken up with it ;
excess in the stakes and bets ; and excess in the attachment and
ardour with which it is pursued ; all of which are directly contrary
to true piety and the eternal maxims of God's law. Let us not
condemn things in speculation ; let us talk of what passes before
our eyes.

1st. A man of the world shall make play his usual, and almost
only occupation : shall have no business more important than play ;
or more properly, shall have no business, however important, which
he is not ready to quit for play ; shall consider play, not as a tran-
sient amusement, fit to unbend the mind, and ease the fatigues of
long labour, or close application and intense study, but as a stated
work, a regular employment, a fixed state and condition in life ;
shall consecrate to play days, weeks, and months, nay, his whole
life ; for there are gamblers of this sort, and of your own acquaint-
ance. A lady shall so far be a burden to herself, that she can bear
neither herself, nor any one else, so long as she is debarred from a
pack of cardi ; shall talk of nothing, shall think of nothing, from
morning till night, but quadrille and cards ; shall, to hear her talk,
want strength to employ somo momenta of reflection on the truths
of salvation, but shall not want a constitution strong enough to
spend whole nights in shuffling, and dealing, and talking of cards.
Tell me, Christians; doth either of these behave in this with
becoming moderation ? Is this a Christian way of proceeding ? Is
this the way of one who seeks God, takes pains for heaven, and
lays up treasures for eternity ? Is this the business of an evan-
gelical labourer, such as the faithful ought all to be ? Of one called
by God to dress his vine, and give him an account of every moment
to the very last, " until he pay the last farthing ?" Matt. v. How
does this perpetual play, this play without interruption or respite,
this play on all days, and almost every hour of the day, coincide
with the great ideas we have of the Christian religion, and which
Jesus Christ himself hath described to us in clear terms ? For
they were neither contrived nor forged by mc. The Saviour of the

ON WORLDLY DIVERSIONS. 2< <

world hath not spoken to us throughout his gospel of a Christian
life, but under the figure of a fight, of traffic, of labour, to make
us comprehend that it must be an active and laborious life. Now
how can anything be more incompatible than a life of labour, and
a life of play ?

Is play, then, of every kind, to be imputed to us as a crime ?
No, beloved hearer ; and you may remembc I set out with that
declaration. It is not play, but the excess of it that I blame ; and
in vain shall you answer me, that play in its own nature is not
reprehensible ; that is not the subject of the present inquiry. When
you say that play (I mean a certain kind of play) is indifferent,
and when I maintain that play, carried to excess, is criminal, both
your proposition and mine are true, and perfectly coincident with
one another ; but mine admonishes you of an abuse which yours
will never reform. Adjust your play agreeably to rule. Allow
for play but leisure hours, which God refuses not to nature, and
which necessity requires. The service of God, and the practice of
religion, must go before play. The sacrifice of the altar, spiritual
reading, the divine office and mental prayer, must go before play.
The care of your family, of your children, of your servants, and of
your business, must go before play. The obligations of your
employment, the duties of your profession, the works of mercy,
charity, and godliness, must go before play. When you have com-
plied with all this, you may seek relaxation in play, not carried to
excess. You may recreate yourself with a peaceful heart ; and
even (if I may venture so to speak) with a kind of favour and bless-
ing from heaven. I say, with a peaceful heart, because then you
will play without passion ; because then you will play in the man-
ner you ought to do, and will bring your play to be what it ought
to be, that is, a short dissipation, and not a continual occupation ;
because then you will play a sufficient time to unbend the mind,
not so long as to waste your spirits ; in short, because then you
will not feel the internal worm that gnaws your heart, and re-
proaches you with the loss of time, and the inutility of your life.
I say, even with a kind of favour and blessing from heaven, because
then you will direct your play to an end becoming a Christian ;
allowing yourself this recreation only with a view to do better, and
by that means, (if I may so speak,) making even your play meri-
torious, and worthy of commendation. But so long as play shall
take the lead of all other functions, and shall make you forget what

278 ON WORLDLY DIVERSIONS.

you owe to God, to your neighbour, and to yourself; so long as
you shall make no sort of distinction between solemn festivals and
other days, but shall waste the precious hours of life in those equally
as in these, I will say it is, at least, a criminal dissipation of the
time which the goodness of God hath given you, and a shameful
profanation, for which you will be answerable to him.

2ndly. One excess brings to another. Excess in the time em-
ployed in play, is attended with excess in the sums played for.
To play but seldom, yet when you do play, to hazard much ; or
to hazard a little, but play continually, are two excesses, both the
one and the other of which is forbidden by the law of God. But
over and above these two excesses, there is a third, which is, to
play often, and every time you play to venture a large sum. Do
not, however, mistake my meaning, when I say a play in which
you hazard a large sum. I speak not only of the great and the
rich, but of all in general, and each in particular, conformably to
their ability, and station in life. What is nothing for one, is
much for another. One may easily bear what woidd hurt another's
circumstances ; and what for the former were a small loss, might
have fatal consequences for the latter. You have debts to pay ;
you have a numerous family to maintain, and children to provide
for ; you have servants' wages to discharge ; you have alms to
give, and poor to relieve. Your income is scarcely sufficient to
answer all these purposes ; and if you fulfilled exactly and faithfully
all these duties, there would be nothing, or next to nothing, left
for play. This is the case of hundreds and thousands. Never-
theless, they will play ; and it is a rule of life, a rule to which they
unalterably adhere ; so that no consideration can draw them from
it. Cost what it will, they will go on ; and for that purpose,
what is their practice? This is the most crying evil of all.
Because they cannot pay their debts and play, or cannot play and
pay their debts, they let the distresses of their creditors multiply,
are insensible to the cries of the workman and tradesman, use
indirect means to escape their pursuits and to tie their hands;
they put them off from month to month, from year to year, and
of this way of acting there is no end ; they have nothing to give
them, and yet they have enough to throw away at play. Because
to keep house and go on with play, is inconsistent with the nar-
rowness of their fortune, they break up house, and save all for
play. They see, unconcerned, and without emotion, their chil-

ON WOULDLY DIVERSIONS. 279

dren in want of common necessaries ; tliey complain of the smallest
sums laid out to relieve their wants ; they remove them from their
sight, and intrust them to strangers, without affording sufficient
means for their education ; they declare they cannot afford these
means, and for all that they find means to play. Because it would
-lessen their ability to play, if they settled a fair account with their
servants, and paid them off, they accept of their service, and
insist upon it with rigorous exactness, but never think of making
them a suitable recompense for it ; it is a subject on which they
cannot explain themselves, and to bring it up would give them
offence : words they will give them very liberally ; promises they
will make them as many as they please ; they shall have every-
thing they want hereafter, provided they want everything for the
present, and that this hereafter, by putting off payment from time
to time, shall never come ; their affairs are in too distracted a situ-
ation to allow them time for play. Because almsdeeds to the
needy and poor would be too chargeable, and the liberty of play
might suffer by them, this divine precept is not known : they are
witnesses to the wants and distresses of their neighbour without
fellow-feeling; or, if the heart reluctantly betrays its natural
sentiments, the understanding is but too ingenious at finding out
pretexts to stop their effects. They are poor themselves, or they
willingly call themselves such, when the poor are to be relieved ;
but poverty vanishes, the moment an opportunity offers to play.
From all which it follows, that they sacrifice to play the most
inviolable laws and most sacred duties : that play is the first
object of their concern ; that rather than relinquish it, they choose
to relinquish everything else : that when play and other things are
put in balance against one another, all other things, how essential
soever they may be in themselves, kick the beam. Now what are
we to think of this ? If it be not excess, produce another more
deserving of censure ?

But after all, my play is moderate, and very usual. Granted,
Christians : but this so very usual a play distresses your creditors,
who are not paid a farthing, who might at least find some
help toward the necessaries of life, in that of Avhich they are
robbed by a very superfluous diversion. This so very usual a play
puts it out of your power to supply your children not only with
that which a genteel education, and suitable to their birth, requires,
but sometimes even with food and raiment. This so very usual a

280 ON WORLDLY DIVERSIONS.

play deprives your servants of the fruit of their labour, brings
them to distress, and ruins all their hopes. This so very usual a
play hardens your heart to the sighs and moans of so many
wretches who implore your assistance, but who receive nothing
from your hands. A play replete with extreme injustice, equally
odious to God and men : to God who sees the decrees of his divine
Providence frustrated, and his laws violated ; to men, who thereby
lose the means of subsistence, means to which they are so justly
entitled. Ah ! beloved hearers, pay your debts : it is your prin-
cipal obligation. Throw not away for an empty pleasure, the
substance of your brethren, and the patrimony of the poor. In
your situation you cannot seriously, at least you ought not to
think of play. And how little soever you may spend that way, it
is always too much, as it is another's property you risk, and
squander in the most unprofitable manner. If you play, let it be
at your own expense ; neither should you forget that you are not
at liberty to venture your own, so long as others have charges
upon it, charges for which you are responsible. An important
maxim is this, which I wTish to God it were in my power to
impress on the minds of so many of the great, and so many others.
Soon should we see gaming tables deserted, if by the laws of the
land play were forbidden these debtors ; who, far from desisting
from it to pay their debts, heap debt upon debt, in order to keep
it up, and in the end become insolvent. But if human laws are
not express upon this head, what need wTe more than the gospel
law, the law of conscience, and the law of nature.

Let them say, after this, that the times are hard, that they find
it difficult to support their rank, that it stands them upon to contract
their expenses, and that they cannot part easily with the little
they have. I shall not dispute with you, beloved Christians,
about the difficulty of the times. Less experienced than you in
such matters, I know enough to join issue with you, and to agree
that now more than ever it is proper to use a prudent economy in
the management of your fortunes. But is not this exactly that
which proves your guilt in the clearest manner ? What testimony
can I bring against you more convincing than your own ? For,
this appears to me extremely deplorable in the manner of the
times. Nothing is talked of but hardships and calamities: it
would seem as if heaven had, in its wrath, made all its scourges
come down upon earth, to lay it in desolation. Every one holds

ON WOKLDLY DIVERSIONS. 281

the same language. Complaints and lamentations are heard on
all sides. But ruark the indefensible contradiction. In the midst
of these lamentations and complaints, hath the spirit of gaming in
the least subsided ? Among so many persons of both sexes, have
any given up the practice of gaming ? Is it less their occupation
than it was before ? Do they not still play as deep as ever ?
Tell me, Christians, is not this to insult the public distress ? Is
it not to outrage the religion you profess ? Is it not to kindle up
again the anger of heaven ? You will tell me, that in fact you
have retrenched in your expences. But in what article have you
done so ? Is it in that of play ? By no means. In what then ?
Why, in that of bread, for want of which, those who should
receive it are almost lost. In common necessaries to support
your family, in order to find means of going on with play. In
everything that hath no relation to play ; or, rather, in every
thing that may help out play, not applying it even to the most
essential purposes.

I know that to consider things in speculation only, and at the
first view, some will suppose I exaggerate the matter, and carry
it beyond the due bounds. But examine it in practice, consult
your own knowledge, give attention to what passes all around
you, and you will own, that instead of overstraining the point,
there are other extravagances to which play leads, and which I
have not so much as hinted at. For, what would you think,
should I mention a wife, who, by play, from which the strongest
and most serious remonstrances cannot withhold her, loses on one
hand whatever her husband scrapes together on the other, and is
on the watch for opportunities to deceive him, and to pocket what
money she can for play ? Should I mention a husband, who,
going reciprocally from debauchery to play, and from play to
debauchery, ventures all he is worth in the world, goods and
chattels, house and lands, and makes the fate of his family depend
upon one cast of a die ? Should I mention a young heir, who,
without conduct or reflection, borrows on all sides and from all
sorts of people ; and unable as yet to mortgage an estate which
he hath not, cuts himself out at least from his right by anti-
cipation, and holds at nought the loss of his patrimony, provided
he may play ?

These instances are not, perhaps, so common as they were in
times past ; but are they not sufficiently so to let you see the

282

ON WORLDLY DIVERSIONS.

heinousness of excess in play ? Some perhaps, grown wise from
necessity, in these hard and unfruitful years, have moderated
their play in some degree ; but is this sufficient? Doth this
destroy all the evils of play it ought to destroy in the present
conjuncture, and in your present situation ? Doth it put you in
a condition to fulfil, according to the best of your ability, all your
duties ? And if it doth not, is not your play earned to excess ?
Excess not only by loss of time, and loss of money, but moreover
in the attachment and ardour with which it is pursued.

3rdly. What a sight to behold a circle of people, employed
about a game wrhich entirely possesses them, and which alone
suggests reflections to their minds, and desires to their hearts !
What steadfast and immovable looks! You must not disturb
them one moment, not once interrupt them, especially if they are
actuated by a lust of gain, which is mostly the case. What dif-
ferent agitations infect the soul, just as the capriciousness of hazard
varies ! Hence sacred vexation and melancholy ; hence bitterness
and disgust ; hence sorrow and despondency, anger and violence,
blasphemy and imprecations. I am well aware of what the good-
breeding of the times prescribes on these occasions. It teaches
you to affect a coolness of temper, an easy manner, and a cheerful
countenance, to suppress the swellings and tumults of your heart,
and to disguise your feelings. In this consists one of the chief
accomplishments for play, one of the most reputable characteris-
tics of a gamester. But whatever cheerfulness he may show in
his looks, is the tempest in his breast the less violent for that ?
And is it not a double mortification, to feel internally the whole
force of it, and be obliged, from I know not what principle of
honour, to dissemble it externally. This then is what the world
denominates diversion ; but what, for my part, I denominate a
passion, nay, one of the most tyrannical and criminal passions.
And tell me sincerely, beloved hearers, do you really think that this
was the meaning of Almighty God, when he allowed you certain
dissipations of mind, and certain recreations ? Can he who is reason
itself, approve of a play^that shocks reason ? Can he who is essen-
tially regularity itself, permit a play that is totally irregular ?

It is much better, you say, to play, than to speak ill of one's
neighbour, than to form plots, than to indulge one's mind with
dangerous ideas. A fine pretext, indeed ! I answer : you must
neither speak ill of your neighbour, nor form plots, nor admit into

ON WORLDLY DIVERSIONS. 283

your mind sensual idea9, nor play, as you do, without measure or
limitation. Though your life were free from every other fault, this
alone would be sufficient for your condemnation. To conclude, 1
affirm, that the greatest part of worldly diversions are highly cen-
surable, because they are scandalous in their effects, as I am going
to set forth in the third and last part.

Part III. St. Chrysostom observes, that the manner in
which Jesus Christ expresses himself concerning whatever gives
us scandal, is very surprising. If your eye (says this divine
Redeemer) be a cause of scandal to you, pull it out ; or, should it
be your hand, cut it off; or, should it be your foot, spare it not,
because it is better to lose your hand, your loot, your eye, your
whole body, than run the risk of losing your soul. Why, think
ye, Christians, did the Son of God make use of this example of
the foot, the eye, the hand ? It was (says St. Chrysostom) to let
us understand, that we are bound to forego even things the most
necessary, such as concern us the most nearly, and which, it
should seem, we should have most occasion for in the common
occurrences of life, when they make us fall, whatever the manner
of it may be, and lead to sin. Whether it be the cause or occasion
of sin, is of no consequence. The cause of sin, the occasion of
sin, a distinction equally subtile and unnecessary. If my sin be
owing to an occasion of sinning, I incur damnation as much as if
I had sinned any other way. God, therefore, obliges me as
strictly to fly from the occasion of sin, as from the cause of sin,
how advantageous soever in other respects, and even how neces-
sary soever, this occasion may seem to be for me. Nothing in the
natural course of things is more precious to me than my eye,
nothing in the common actions of life more useful than my hand,
it is my foot that supports me and bears me along. And yet to
prevent a mortal fall, of which I should run the hazard by keeping
them, it is incumbent on me to spare neither eye, nor foot, nor
hand. We must sacrifice all, in order to preserve what is essen-
tial and capital, which is the life of the soul : "If thy hand, or
thy foot, scandalize thee, cut it off, and cast it away from thee."
Matt. xvii. This, beloved hearers, is the true meaning of our
Saviour's words.

Now with how much more reason ought this great maxim to be
made a rule concerning diversions? There are diversions, it
must be owned, which in themselves are not criminal, and the

t2

284 ON WORLDLY DIVERSIONS.

use of which goes not to any remarkable excess. Nevertheless,
Almighty God hath a right to forbid you, and in fact forbids you,
the enjoyment of them. The reason is this : they may be danger-
ous occasions for you of offending God, and in the circumstances
with which they are attended, there may be a scandal which you
are indispensably obliged to shun. On all other occasions, they
would be allowable ; at every other time, they are even praise-
worthy ; but in such a place, at such an hour, in such company,
you are forbidden to appear, strictly forbidden, because in that
case you endanger your innocence, and risk the critical work of
salvation. And whereas in the critical work of salvation all
is personal, and whereas the goodness or badness of our actions
depends on the relation they bear to ourselves, when the point
is to determine whether or not I shall indulge myself with a
diversion, or use self-denial, the general notion of mankind is a
wrong standard wrhereby to form my determination ; for if I
perceive that some way or other it may mortally wound my con-
science, I am obliged in conscience to desist from it, and to keep
my distance ; to cut off, and cast away. This is the doctrine
wrhich faith teaches, these are the dictates of right reason.

A particular instance, beloved Christians, will put my meaning
in a clearer light. Of all diversons, is there one more innocent, or
more indifferent in its own nature, than to take the air in public
gardens, and in such other places of resort ? And of all diversions
in the world, is it not that wThich is least exposed to the shafts of
censure, and in which, it should seem, the lawrs of conscience had
least matter for reformation ? Nevertheless, I maintain (and you
know how it is as well as I do) that there are diversions of this
nature which look suspicious ; that there are others undeniably bad ;
that there are others downright scandalous ; and that this scandal
regards not only libertine souls, enlisted under the banners of vice,
but even those who have, or seem to have, in other respects, a
horror of them, and are estranged from them. Profane times !
what have ye not corrupted, and where have ye not spread your
malignant influence ? You are not at a loss, beloved hearers, to
comprehend my meaning ; and truly to comprehend it is no hard
matter. You know to what pass are come certain places of public
resort, and what happens in them every day. You know on what
account the preference is given them before all others, and for
what purpose they are resorted to. A tumultuous concourse, a

ON WORLDLY DIVERSIONS. 285

confused multitude, a scene of pageantry, frivolousness, and vanity.
If there is a human beauty to be produced and made known, if an
ornamental attire and sparkling gems are to be displayed, is it not
there that they attract the eyes of the admiring people ? In the
midst of so many different objects, who, one after another, and as
it were by so many regular evolutions, pass incessantly and repass,
what engages the eye ? With what kind of thoughts is the mind
taken up ? Which are the feelings of the heart ? And on what
topic doth conversation turn ?

This scandal is the more dangerous, because the danger of it is
not perceived. How many of my hearers, not excepting those
who make open profession of the gospel law, and mean to lead
a life conformable to it, accuse me, perhaps, for carrying the seve-
rity of the evangelical doctrine beyond the due bounds ! They
will agree with me upon all I have said respecting the stage,
gaming, spectacles, assemblies, books ; and if I had said a great
deal more, they would agree with me upon it. But that I should
run down a pleasurable walk in a public garden ; that I should
pretend there are measures to be kept, and precautions to be
taken, upon that head ; that I should be of opinion that a Chris-
tian matron ought not to expose there a young person, without
circumspection and reflection ; that I should maintain she ought to
consider time, place, and circumstances, which she had hitherto
made so light of: all this will be looked upon as exaggeration, and
they will hardly be prevailed upon to give me credit for it. But
I know what the fathers of the church have said of it, and it is to
their judgment that I appeal. For, it is not in these later ages
that this kind of scandal was first known, and that the preachers
of the Word, and spiritual directors, have endeavoured to banish
it from the kingdom of God. I know what St. Ambrose hath
said concerning it in his excellent tract of " The Institution of
Virgins." I know what St. Jerom hath written, not in one, but in
sundry treatises on the same subject. These great men were filled
with and guided by the Spirit of God, and thoroughly qualified
to prescribe rules for the modelling and training up young persons
in a manner suitable to the holiness of their state : but they pre-
scribed them rules, and gave them documents, that would rectify
your notions in regard to those methods of killing the time, which
appear to you so proper and so lawful. They took it for granted,
that a young lady should never go abroad but with extreme

286 ON WORLDLY DIVERSIONS,

reserve, and all the circumspection of a particular modesty : that
a prudent retirement should be her element, and the business and
care of the family her ordinary occupation and study; that if
occasionally she withdrew from it, it should be for some pious or
necessary purpose ; that if it were thought expedient and proper
sometimes to indulge in some innocent amusement, she must
avoid and guard against not only suspicion, but the very shadow of
suspicion ; that she should not take a single step but under the eyes
of a discreet, cautious, watchful mother, and that to disappear a
single moment, were to hurt the integrity of her reputation;
that she should never be seen -without some one responsible for
her conduct, and a witness to everything she said and did ; in
fine, that such a subjection, far from being disagreeable, ought to
give her pleasure, that she ought to love it for her own sake and
comfort, and that so soon as she endeavoured to get rid of it, it
must appear to prognosticate no good to her virtue. Thus these
holy doctors have treated this subject. What would they have
said of walks and airings, the whole agreeableness of which con-
sists in pomp and attire ; for which people dress and decorate
themselves as for a ball, and to which they repair with the same
spirit, and with all the pride and ostentation of luxury ; at which,
as though they were public exhibitions, each, at one and the same
time, is actor and spectator, plays his owm part, and personates
himself? What would they have said of those solitary walks, in
which a premeditated and well-contrived chance brings persons
together, and occasions seemingly accidental meetings, though
real assignations ? What would they have said — I say no more,
beloved hearers : it is a respect due to the sacred place in which
we are assembled. So great is the evil, that even decency obliges
me to suppress it ; neither can I reproach you with it more effec-
tually than by silence.

But, beloved Christians, what ought you to think of all this ?
And what have not so many girls and women of the world to fear
from it ? Are they more holy than was Eustochium, than was
Blasilla, than were so many others to whom St. Jerom was wont
to dictate such salutary lessons ? Are the corruption and depra-
vity of the present age not as contagious as were those of ancient
times ? And are there fewer rocks to be dreaded in these days,
than were in the days of that father ? Ah ! beloved hearers, con-
sider the infinite evils that may be caused, and that are daily caused,

ON WORLDLY DIVERSIONS. 287

by a life of dissipation, especially in regard to persons of the sex,
and by the execrable liberty of which they are in possession. Were
I to discourse with you upon that subject, and were you to give
me your opinion with frankness, what might I not learn from your
knowledge and experience ? It was there that such a communi-
cation began, there the first opportunity offered, there the intrigue
was first contrived. You know them, and can give an exact account
of them. But, very probably, you would not reckon among them
those which ought to be most interesting to you ; and you perceived
not, because you are better informed of that which concerns others
than yourselves. Be that as it may, with all the knowledge which
you have, and which, no doubt, ought to be sufficient, how can
you overlook so important a point ? Can you suffer a licentious-
ness, the danger of which you are well apprised of, and which it is
so necessary to put a stop to ? Can you suffer it in those who are
nearest to you by all the ties of blood and affection, in those for
whom you are answerable to God in a special manner, inasmuch as
he has submitted them to your directions, and entrusted them to
your vigilance ? But if the toleration of it be forbidden you, what
must it be'to try to justify it, to approve of it, to encourage it, to
authorise it ? And you, Christian souls ; if in your regard, too
condescending parents should persist in so base and criminal a tole-
ration, how can you make use of it ? Ought you not to give it
over as a glaring scandal ? Do you not perceive into what a gulf
of iniquity it is capable of pushing you headlong ?

How then ! Are we obliged to give up every kind of diversion ?
To this I shall give a two-fold answer. In the first place, I answer,
that if every diversion in the world hath one or other of the three
characteristics I have been enlarging upon, and is either criminal
in its own nature, or excessive in its extent, or scandalous in its
effects, there is not a diversion in the world, of which you ought
not to have an utter abhorrence, far from seeking or procuring it.
The reason is, that there is not one of these three characteristics
which is not sufficient alone to damn you ; and that there is not a
diversion in the world, which can make compensation for the loss
of your soul, and which you ought not to sacrifice to your salva-
tion. You will not, I own, lead so agreeable and pleasant a life ;
it will be even insipid, irksome, and melancholy : and should you
be obliged to carry things as far as they can possibiy go, it will be,
according to nature, dreadful. But never forget the words of my

288 ON WORLDLY DIVERSIONS.

text, and what the Son of God tells you in the persons of the apos-
tles : " Ye shall weep and lament, but the world will rejoice."
The world will rejoice in the pleasures of the senses, and will relish
their sweetness ; while tears and afflictions, and the bitter cup of
sorrow, shall fall to your share. Nevertheless, your lot will be pre-
ferable to all the joys of the world ; because the joys of the world
will vanish speedily, and will terminate in eternal wo : whereas,
your sufferings will be changed into happiness, a perfect happiness
that shall never have an end. Now, as such is your hope, I leave
you to judge whether or not you ought to forego the pleasures of
the world, and whether or not the sacrifice of them ought to give
you uneasiness. But, in the second place, there are, wrhat I have
already granted, and what I grant again, recreations and diversions
of more kinds than one. Some are commendable, without excess
and without danger ; and this is the kind that is allowed you. The
primitive Christians themselves had their days and hours of rejoicing
but a Christian rejoicing ; that is, they rejoiced with wisdom and
circumspection, and in a manner suitable to their profession. Do
you follow this rule, and the gospel will have no objection to it.

What do I say, beloved hearers ? Proceed we farther ; and as
the prophet advises, if we must rejoice, let it not be in any one, or
in anything, saving in the Lord. The apostle St. Paul wished
earnestly that the faithful might be filled with joy of every kind ;
and what he so earnestly wished his disciples, I wish you with the
same earnestness. With this same teacher of the Gentiles, I say
to you : " Rejoice, my brethren, nay, incessantly rejoice." But
what kind of joy ought this to be? That internal, spiritual, and
holy joy, with which Almighty God replenishes the soul that seeks
him in truth, that seeks him only, that aspires to him only, and
that wishes to repose in him only. That divine joy wThich is above
the senses, and beyond the comprehension of the terrestrial and car-
nal man. Put yourselves in a disposition to taste its sweets, and
you will enjoy them. It is not in the noise and hurry of the world,
not at plays, or routs, or balls, or gaming-tables, that they are to
be found, but in silence and solitude, and in the repose of a holy
and retired life. The more you renounce these human entertain-
ments, with the greater abundance this heavenly joy will dilate
your hearts ; it will spread itself through them, it will fill them
with transports, it will make them overflow with immeasurable
delight. Such is the promise which I make with confidence, and

ON AN ERRONEOUS CONSCIENCE. 289

for which my vouchers are all the saints that have ever lived, or
that are still living upon earth. Did they impose upon us re-
specting this matter, or were they mistaken ? Was the royal
psalmist in an error, when he said, that " one day with God, and
in the house of God, was better for him than ten thousand with
sinners in the midst of pleasures ?" Were St. Paul and so many
others in an error, when, from the experimental knowledge they
had of it, they declared that nothing could be compared with the
secret unction and consolation which God communicates to those
who love, fear, and serve him ? Let us rely on their word, or
rather, let us rely on the Word of God, who hath promised, if we
are willing, to make us happy in time, and to all eternity.

SERMON XIV.

ON AN ERRONEOUS CONSCIENCE.

For the Third Sunday of Advent.

" They said unto him, ivho art thou, that we may give an
answer to those ivho sent us ? What say est thou of thyself? He
replied : I am the voice of one crying out in the wilderness, make
straight the way of the Lord." John i.

To have been chosen by God, beloved Christians, in order to pre-
pare in the minds of men, the way of the Messiah, whose coming
he foretold, did great honour to St. John the Baptist. Had he
collected together every kind of praise that was any way applicable
to his person or to his ministry, he could not have better, or more
completely succeeded, than by letting his humility speak, against
his will, which bears such signal testimony in liis favour : "I am
the voice of one crying out in the wilderness." For he must, to
be this precursor, have been not only a prophet, and more than a
prophet, but an angel upon earth ; as it was of him, according to
our Saviours own interpretation, that God said heretofore by the
mouth of his prophet Malachi, speaking of his Son : " Behold! I

290 ON AN ERRONEOUS CONSCIENCE.

send my angel before thy face, who shall prepare thy way before
thee." Matt. xi.

Although, Christians, I am neither angel nor prophet, it is the
will of God that I should perform the same duty which St. John
the baptist did to Christ ; and that, after the example of this glo-
rious harbinger, I should cry out, not in the wilderness, but in the
midst of this court, " Make straight the way of the Lord." It is
your God that comes to you, be prepared to receive him ; prepare
the blessed way within yourselves, the way which brings you to
him, and which brings him to you. It was to that end John the
baptist was sent into Judea, and it is to that end I appear in the
pulpit ; it is to point out, and make known to you the way of the
Lord, a way far distant from the way of the world. Religion in-
forms us, that it is a holy way, and wo be to me, should I offer to
represent it in another light. To come to the knowledge of this
holy way, by which we must arrive in our heavenly country, and
to find out the opposite, in the view of shunning it, is the scope
and intent of this discourse.

It is within ourselves, in the recesses of our heart, that we shall
find an explanation of the words I have cited for my text from the
gospel. The way of the Lord, which must be made straight, is
our own conscience. The straight way, which in order to be quali-
fied to receive Jesus Christ, we are bound to pursue, is our con-
science regulated by the law of God. The winding way, which
we are obliged to make straight, is our conscience perverted by the
false maxims and delusions of the world. The deceitful way, which
terminates in death, is an erroneous conscience, which the sinner
forms. The infallible way, which leads to life, is the delicate con-
science of the worthy Christian. This, beloved hearers, is the pur-
port of all that St. John preached: "Make straight the way of
the Lord."

Now, that you may profit by so important an instruction, I shall,
in this instruction, set forth the irregularity of a wrong conscience,
which is the way of reprobation, directly opposite to the way of
the Lord. In order, if possible, to preserve you from it, I shall
endeavour to show how easy it is to form a wrong conscience ; how
dangerous it is, or rather how pernicious, to act upon the principles
of a wrong conscience ; lastly, how unavailing it is in the presence
of God, to try, by alleging a wrong conscience, to excuse and
palliate our bad conduct. Three positions, of which I beseech you

ON AN ERRONEOUS CONSCIENCE. 291

to take with you, in your minds, the arrangement and texture, as
they make the heads of the following discourse :

First : it is easy to adopt an erroneous conscience.

Secondly : it is dangerous to be guided by an erroneous con-
science.

Thirdly : an erroneous conscience is a frivolous allegation in the
presence of God.

Part I. Were the law of God the only certain rule of our ac-
tions, and were our lives to rest solely on the maxims of that first
and essential law, of which God is the author, we might say, my
brethren, that sin was no more, and that we should all be perfect
and impeccable Christians. Our errors, irregularities, backslidings
and deviations in the way of salvation, proceed from this, that,
besides the law of God, another rule must be followed, on which
depends the uprightness of our actions : or rather, from this, that
the law of God, which is the general rule of all human actions,
must be applied to man, in a particular manner, by another more
near and immediate rule, and that is conscience. For, what is
conscience ? The angelical doctor, St. Thomas, tells it us in a
few words : it is the application which every one makes to himself
of the law of God. Now you know full well, being convinced by
experience, that every one makes application of this law of God to
himself, according to his understanding, particular views, and cast
of mind : nay, more, according to the secret movements and pre-
sent disposition of his heart ; insomuch, that the application of this
divine law, far from being in practice a certain rule, either in doing
good, or avoiding evil, is often made a rule, of which we make use,
and of which we avail ourselves, sometimes to do evil, and some-
times to plead exemption from the most inviolable obligations of
doing good. Be pleased to take my meaning, and endeavour along
with me to discuss thoroughly so important a difficulty.

True it is, Christians, that the law of God, considered absolutely,
and relatively to God, who is its first cause, is a plain and uniform
law, an invariable and unalterable law ; n law (according to the
royal prophet) holy and reprehensible : " The law of the Lord is
unspotted." Ps. xviii. But the law of God, understood by man,
explained by man, fashioned by the mind, and digested according
to the conscience of man, assumes as many different shapes, as
there are minds and consciences of different kinds ; is as liable to
change as the man who observes, or pretends to observe it, is him-

292 ON AN ERRONEOUS CONSCIENCE.

self, by the natural inconstancy of his temper, liable to change ;
shall I say it ? Is as susceptible not only of imperfection, but of
corruption, as ourselves, in the abuse of it, even when we imagine
that our whole conduct is directed by it. It is the law of God, I
grant ; but one interprets it in this manner, another in that, and
thus it loses its proper character of plainness and uniformity. It
is the law of God ; but according to the different situations we are
in, to-day we contract it, and to-morrow we enlarge it ; at one
time we consider it in its full rigour, at another we abate of its
severity and exactness : and thus, in our regard, it hath no stability.
It is the law of God ; but by idle reasoning, we adapt it to our
opinions and depraved inclinations ; and thus it degenerates in our
minds from its purity and holiness. In a word, by the close con-
nexion subsisting between it and the consciences of men, though
the law of God, it is mingled with our notions, and confounded
with our iniquities. But I will be more explicit on so important
a subject, which cannot be placed easily in a point of light suffi-
ciently clear :

Every one, whatever kind of life he may lead, forms a consci-
ence of his own ; and I grant that to form one is undoubtedly
necessary. For (as the apostle says) " whatever is not according
to faith is sin." Rom. xiv. Now, St. Paul, in this text, by faith,
understood conscience, and not merely faith ; or, if you like that
better, reduced practical faith to conscience. This is the universal
opinion of the fathers ; and it evidently appears from the very con-
text. That is, not to sin, we must have a conscience ; and who-
ever acts without conscience, or against conscience, though the
very thing he doth should be good and praiseworthy, sins by doing
it. But we cannot hence infer, urging by contraries, that whai>
ever is done according to conscience, is not sinful. This is, beloved
hearers, what I mean to impart to you ; a thing you must know,
if you would know your religion, namely : that as conscience, so
what is according to conscience, is not always right. There are
insincere consciences, corrupt consciences, seared consciences, as
the scripture calls them : that is, consciences blackened and dis-
figured with crimes, and founded in sin ; and deeds performed
according to such consciences, cannot be better, or have any other
qualities than the consciences themselves. One may act, therefore,
according to conscience, and yet commit sin ; and what is more
strange, it may be sinful to act according to conscience, because

ON AN ERRONEOUS CONSCIENCE. 293

there are consciences, according to which it is wrong to act ; and
which, being big with sin, can generate but sin. In forming a con-
science, one may incur everlasting woes ; because there are consci-
ences of a certain sort, which, seeing the manner in which they aro
formed, lead inevitably to perdition, and are the never-failing
sources of damnation.

Now, I hold that it is easy to form this kind of conscience ; I
hold that the higher your rank is, the more easily your conscience
falls under this category. I hold that consciences of this nature
are formed with less difficulty in certain stations that compose and
distinguish the great scenes of life in which you are taken up. Can
a Christian be persuaded of these great truths, and not collect his
wandering thoughts, and acknowledge before God the part he hath
taken in this irregularity ?

1st. I have said it was easy to form a wrong conscience. The
reason is, that nothing is more easy, nothing more natural, than
to make conscience tally with our interest or desires ; in both of
which cases, it is irregular and erroneous. And, first, it is irre-
gular for this single reason, because it is formed according to our
desires. The proof is unanswerable, and borrowed from St. Au-
gustin. It is this ; that our desires, in the general dispensation of
things, which is the dispensation of God, should be adapted to
conscience, and not conscience to desires. Nevertheless, my bre-
thren, (says this holy doctor,) this is the delusion, this the iniquity,
if we be not on our guard, into which we are perpetually in danger
of falling. Instead of regulating our desires by our consciences,
we regulate our consciences by our desires. And as our consci-
ences are founded in our desires, what is the consequence ? That
the object to which we are impelled by inclination, hath, propor-
tionably to the impulse, the appearance of good. At first, it seems
agreeable, or useful, or convenient ; next, it is allowable, innocent,
and becoming ; and by a certain kind of progress, peculiar to error,
of which we have many and glaring instances, at last we believe it
arises from virtue. This is the consequence of that ascendant
which the heart insensibly gains over the understanding, compel-
ling us to frame our. judgment of things, not as they really are in
themselves, but as we would really have them to be ; and if Ave
could make them either good or bad, according to our disposition,
and our will had the power of giving them what form soever it
pleased. Of those who now hear me, let each impartially search

294 ON ^N ERRONEOUS CONSCIENCE.

his heart, and perhaps but few will be able to affirm, that this
reproach doth not nearly concern them.

And for this reason, when the psalmist speaks of the pernicious
errors and detestable maxims which influence mankind, and actu-
ate gradually the sinner's conscience, he never fails to add, that
he, the sinner, conceives them in his heart, that he fixes them in
his heart, that his heart is the source from which they flow, and
that he says in his heart whatever is capable to confirm him in
wickedness.

Had he hearkened to his reason, his reason would have told him
the direct contrary. Had he consulted his faith, his faith in this,
in concert with reason, would have answered, " thou art wrong;
there is a law which forbids thee, under pain of death, the deed
thou dost meditate without remorse. There is a supreme tribunal,
at which thou shalt be judged, and sentence will be passed on thee
as that law directs. There is an all-powerful God, of whose attri-
butes, the most inseparable from his essence is his Providence ;
and part of that Providence is, the rigorous justice with which he
will eternally punish thy crime." This, the sinner, notwith-
standing his impiety, learns from religion by the light even of rea-
son. But as he would follow the dictates of his heart, his heart,
intent on seduction, spoke another language. It said, that his rea-
son, in such and such cases, did not lay him under, with that strict-
ness, so great an obligation. It said that his religion made not
reprobation, that worst of evils, the irreparable consequence of so
slight a transgression. It said that his faith would be greatly
overstrained, should he imagine God's vengeance in such a degree.
And in this manner he sets his conscience at ease.

Now is anything more easy, than thus to model it to his own
liking ? Show me the man who is not strongly inclined to sup-
pose, to decide, to conclude, to do all things according to the
passion that rides him. How great is his propensity to think that
which favours it, just and reasonable, and to reject as improper
what would help to restrain it ! Of all the passions, let us single
out that which is best known, and which is the most common.
You have a criminal connexion, and you would reconcile it with
conscience. To what shifts are you driven to gain your end ! If
your business be to regulate certain intimacies, to retrench certain
liberties, to avoid certain occasions, which nourish and foment this
abominable passion : from the first moment that the heart is

ON AN ERRONEOUS CONSCIENCE. 295

enthralled, with how many false, but specious reasons, doth it
furnish the head, to extend, in that, the bounds of conscience !
To shake off the yoke of the precept by mitigating its rigour and
austerity ! To call in question what is evidently just ! And to
controvert undeniable and visible facts ! For instance : to disown
the scandal, though evident and public; to maintain that the
occasion is neither immediate nor voluntary, though both the one
and the other ; to allege pretexts for persisting in, and seeming
impossibilities of desisting from, your evil communications ; to
justify and varnish your wilful delays. If we attentively consider
the nature of man, when passion and duty are inwardly at variance,
or, rather, when the heart hath taken its resolution, what a mira-
cle would it be, should he keep his conscience, in that situation,
from running into error !

But if a wrong conscience be easily formed by adapting it to
our desires, it is still more so by adapting it to our interest. And
here I must beseech you to renew your attention. For (as St.
Chrysostom rightly observes) it is interest in particular that
excites desires, and gives them that quickness so apt to darken the
understandings of men in the way of salvation. Why so many
erroneous consciences in the world, but because on no considera-
tion can people be induced to forego their interest ? Why do they
stifle, on a thousand occasions, the most lively remorses in what
evidently clashes with the law of God, but because there are none,
which the thirst of lucre, still more lively, and self-interest, still
more prevalent and forcible than conscience, are not capable of
stifling ? Where these are not concerned, we easily preserve a
right conscience, and are severely regular in matters concerning
moral obligations. There is nothing in them burdensome which
we do not approve of, and even relish. We judge of them ration-
ally, we speak of them feelingly, we abhor whatever is not con-
formable to the purity of our intentions. But is our interest in
question? Doth an occasion offer, in which, unluckily, our
interest and this purity of principle jar ? You know, Christians,
how ingenious we are at finding our expedients to run into error.
Our understanding is weakened, our severity slackens, our sight is
dimmed by the corruptions of the world, we no longer behold
things in the true light. What we once thought too favourable to
corrupt nature, upon close examination is found to be rational.
What gave us offence, and we looked upon as scandalous, is not

296 ON AN ERRONEOUS CONSCIENCE.

80 invidious. What we reckoned indefensible, wears another
aspect, and seems just and warrantable : what we blamed in others,
begins to be lawful and excusable for ourselves ; we reason, per-
haps, a little with ourselves ; but we yield at last ; and that private
interest, which we cannot lose hold of, by an inherent quality,
surprisingly efficacious, gives what bias turn it pleases to our
consciences.

In what are our consciences mostly exact ? And in what do
we display a nicety of maxims ? Let us own it sincerely : in that
which hath no connexion with our interest ; in that which concerns
only the business of others ; in that which hath no relation to our-
selves. That is, we are conscious for our neighbour to a degree
of severity, because we have no interest in being remiss for another,
and because, by that means, more credit and respect accrue to
ourselves at another's cost. But, at the same time, by a gross
blindness, which few faithful souls can guard against thoroughly,
each one is conscientious in his own regard, as the necessity of his
affairs, the advancement of his fortune, the success of his under-
takings— in a word, as the occasion requires, and his interest
admits.

And hence it is, that error and iniquity have made such pro-
gress in the minds of men. Hear a layman discourse on matters
of conscience regarding ecclesiastics, it is an oracle that speaks,
whose insight is unparalleled ; but hear him argue for himself, or
rather judge, by his conduct, and you will find that he hath scarce
any conscience at all, and this supposed oracle shall move your
compassion.

Shall I make you sensible, beloved hearers, of this great truth ?
It is so important, it should be placed in the clearest point of view.
Mind my supposition. Should I collect together, in this discourse,
whatever hath been taught, upon this subject, by divines the most
moderate, and the farthest from carrying their opinions to an
excess of indiscreet severity ; nay, by divines the most indulgent,
divines suspected, whether with or without reason, of inclining to
relax in doctrines of morality : should I collect together, I say,
all that they have taught, and all that they maintain to be of strict
obligation, the consciences of those who are the most earnest and
bitter in their invectives against them and their doctrines, would
not, oftentimes, be disposed to submit to them. How indulgent
soever they are supposed to be, should I here relate, without

ON AN ERRONEOUS CONSCIENCE. 297

addition or diminution, their opinions and decisions, in so many
words upon certain heads, respecting the interests of mankind,
and should I apply them to some who pretend to an uncommon
delicacy af conscience, few there would be, of all those who hear
me, whom I should not thereby put out of countenance ; and,
perhaps, if their minds were rightly known, I should offend and
disgust them. Should I remonstrate, for instance, to a beneficed
clergyman, how far these theologists carry their severity, on five
or six articles, of which I shall supersede the disagreeable recital,
were he sincere and honest, in any degree, he would humble him-
self, and own, in the presence of God, that as yet he was far from
that scrupulous exactness, and nice punctuality, with which he
flattered himself he Avas possessed ; but if truth can hurt him ever
so little, he will take offence at this. Were I to address myself
to him only, all others who hear me, having no concern in it,
would applaud my zeal, and unanimously agree that I was quite
in the right. But were I to enlarge on so copious a subject, and
expatiate freely on their personal faults, and particular stations ;
were I to proceed from the churchman to the statesman, from the
statesman to the magistrate, from the magistrate to the merchant,
from the merchant to the tradesman ; were 1, exerting the sacred
liberty peculiar to the pulpit, to point out to each of them wherein
consisted, if he meant to adopt them in good earnest, the rigour
and strictness of Christian morals ; were I to convince him, as I
easily might, that it is in this particular he takes great latitudes,
which he neither perceives or thinks of; were I to make him sen-
sible of those latitudes, and, without regard or deference to his
person, to set them before his eyes : yes, I say it again, my whole
audience would well nigh rise up in opposition to my sentiments.
And why ? Ah ! Christians, here is the inconsistency. We are
for strict morals in theory, but not in practice ; strict morals that
would oblige us to nothing, that would give us no trouble, that
would lay us under no restraint ; strict morals according to our
taste, our notions, our humour, our interest ; strict morals for
others, but not for ourselves ; strict morals that Avould leave us the
liberty to judge, to speak, to rally, to censure ; in a word, Ave are
for strict morals that have no existence. And hence it is, that,
notwithstanding this supposed zeal for strict morals in the Christian
religion, people every day form erroneous consciences.

2ndly. But I said, and I repeat it, that the great are particu-

u

298 OX .VN ERRONEOUS CONSCIENCE.

larly exposed to the misfortune of a wrong conscience. The duty
inseparably annexed to my ministry, and the zeal for your salva-
tion with which God inspires me, will not suffer me to pass over
in silence so essential a truth. They are more exposed than others,
for a thousand evident and convincing reasons, which cannot be
too frequently the object of contemplation. Their affairs are too
complicated to be reconcileable, at all times, and in all places, with
the law of God, and must be apt, of course, to be the matter and
groundwork of a wrong conscience. Is it not from interested and
selfish views, that in then prospects and undertakings the will of
heaven is seldom attended to ? The spring of conscience is often
relaxed by that of politics ? That politics are the rule in impor-
tant concerns, while conscience is listened to, and decides in
matters only of little moment ? That what is called their interest
is scarce ever weighed in the scale of that judgment, in which they
themselves will one day be weighed ? As if immunities and pri-
vileges had been granted to their interest, which was denied to
themselves ; as if human policy had the power of prescribing
against the rights of God ; as if conscience were a bond of the
vulgar only. They are more exposed than others, because nothing
(says St. Bernard) conduces more easily to seduction of conscience,
than applause, than commendation, than perpetual complaisance,
than to be never contradicted, than to be always in no doubt of
meeting with approbation. Now this is the deplorable situation
of those, whom God, in his wisdom, hath appointed to figure in
the great scenes of life. They are more exposed than others by
the fatality of their state ; because attendance is too often paid
them by men whose views are entirely founded in the blindness
and ignorance of their masters' consciences ; men, who would be
mortified, were their masters to be guided by an exact conscience ;
men, therefore, who make it their duty to draw a veil before the eyes
of their masters, whose confidence they have gained, and whom
they keep in delusion, what by the counsel they presume to give
them, and what by the sentiments they inspire them with.

3rdly. I said more particularly that at court, your abode, a
vitiated conscience was still more general, and not to be avoided
but with still greater difficulty. And certain I am, that in this
yourselves will join issue with me. There the passions feed the
strongest impulse ; there inclination is the most vehement ; there
interest hath the greatest prospect : and, there the most enligh-

ON AN ERRONEOUS CONSCIENCE. 299

toned and upright consciences arc soonest blinded, and most
easily perverted. There the goddess of the world, fortune, exer-
cises over the minds of mankind, and forthwith over their con-
sciences, an absolute dominion. There the hopes of maintaining
a place, the impatience to rise higher, the infatuation of growing
rich, the fear of displeasing, the desire of being agreeable, form
such consciences, as in all other places would pass for monstrous ;
but being there authorised by long custom, seem to have acquired
a right of prescription. People, by having lived at court, and for no
other reason but merely by having lived there, are filled with these
errors. Whatever uprightness of conscience they may have
brought there, by breathing its air, and by hearing its language,
they are habituated to iniquity, and their wonted horror of vice is
dispelled ; vice, which they long blamed, and a thousand times
condemned, but which at last beholding with a favourable eye,
they permit and excuse : that is, without observing it, they new-
mould their consciences, and, by an imperceptible process, from
Christians that they were, by little and little become downright
worldlings, and not fir from heathens.

It would seem as if at court, and in the rest of the world, reli-
gious principles were not the same, and that courtiers were entitled
to adopt consciences specifically different from those of other men.
This is conformable to the general notion ; a notion confirmed, or
rather justified, by woful experience. It is said every day, when
mention is made of a courtier's conscience, that it may as reason-
ably be difficled in, as his contempt of preferment, and disinterested
views. Nevertheless, my brethren, St. Paul assures us, that there
is but one God and one faith ; and wo be to the man who shall
make this one God less an enemy at court to depravity of manners,
than in all the world besides ; or shall suppose this one faith more
indulgent to certain conditions than others. Accursed be he
(says the same great apostle) who shall preach a different gospel
from that which I have preached ! Though an angel from heaven
should announce a gospel disagreeing with mine, let the angel be
accounted a seducer and impostor. Therefore, dear Christians,
accursed is the man, who shall at any time tell you, that you may
lawfully act by any other laws of conscience, than those by which
God will judge the rest of mankind ; and accursed is the man who
shall not tell you plainly, that those general laws are the more
terrible for you, because your desire of being emancipated from

v2

300 ON AN ERRONEOUS CONSCIENCE.

them is more ardent, and the danger of violating them at court
more evident.

You see that the interests and desires of men are the accursed
origins from whence arise all the wrong consciences that over-
spread the world. This made holy David draw that terrible con-
sequence, a consequence from which none of Adam's offspring
will ever be excepted : " They have all gone aside." Ps. lv. All
have o'one astray ; and all have Avalked in the way of delusion and
falsehood; all have had corrupt, nay, abominable consciences:
" They are corrupted and become abominable in iniquities." Ps.lv.
The reason is, that they were all swayed by passion and interest.

O ! my God, make us thoroughly sensible of this great truth,
and may it be engraven for ever in our minds ! As we are blinded
by our desires, deliver us not up to the desires of our heart. As
we are perverted by interest, permit not that interest to have an
ascendant over us. Give us, O Lord, give us upright hearts,
which, ruled by reason, shall keep the passions in subjection. Give
us generous souls, souls superior to all worldly advantages. Thus
our consciences, which are the way that must lead us to a happy
end, shall be rectified ; and thus shall be accomplished the word of
the forerunner of Christ our Saviour, "Make straight the way of
the Lord." But as it is easy in this world to adopt, so it is
dangerous to be guided by an erroneous conscience, my second
position.

Part II. All error is dangerous, particularly in matters regard-
ing ethics ; but there is none so prejudicial, or so pernicious in its
consequences, as that of conscience, the only rule and principle to
direct us in the right discharge of moral duties. Your eye (says
our Saviour in the gospel) is the light of your body ; if your eye
be clear, your body will be enlightened ; but if not, your whole
body will be involved in darkness : " Take heed, therefore," adds
the Saviour of the world, "that the light which is in thee be not
darkness." Luke xi. Now the eye of which Christ speaks in this
passage, is nothing but conscience, by which we are enlightened,
and directed to act. If we be guided by a conscience unmixed
with error, it is a light that spreads itself through all our actions,
or, in other words, all our actions are actions of light ; and, to speak
in the language of the great apostle, " They are the fruit of light."
Ephes. v. Whatever we do is holy, commendable, and pleasing
to God. On the other hand, if our conscience, which is the light

ON AN ERRONEOUS CONSCIENCE. 301

of our "soul, should, by the gross errors with which we are
possessed, be changed into darkness, all our actions become works
of darkness, and the reproach of our Saviour may well be applied
tous: " If the light which is in thee be darkness, the darkness
itself how great shall it be ?" Matt. vi. That is, if that which
you call your conscience, and which you really believe to be free
from error, is made up of deceit, irregularity, and iniquity, what
shall I say of that which your conscience condemns and disallows
of, and yourself acknowledge to be irregularity and iniquity.

This, beloved hearers, is the rock we must avoid ; for thence
proceeds evils the more afflicting and astonishing, as by long cus-
tom they neither afflict nor astonish us. Hence it proceeds, that
an erroneous conscience induceth us to commit evils of every kind ;
that it induceth us to commit them boldly and calmly ; that it
induceth us to commit them without resource, or hope of amend-
ment : a misfortune against which we must carefully guard, unless
we choose to expose our souls to an irreparable loss, and everlast-
ing damnation.

No, Christian, there is no kind of evil, of which man is not
capable with an erroneous conscience. Tell me the evil it hath
not made him commit, and you will comprehend the more easily
the truth of my position. To bring it home to your minds : I ask,
what lengths will not a presumptuous conscience go ? The moment
it becomes a conscience, tell me the crimes it doth not excuse ?
When ambition, for instance, to obtain its ends, found its maxims
in conscience, tell me the duties it doth not violate, the sentiments
of humanity it doth not stifle, the laws of probity, equity, and fide-
lity it doth not overturn ? Conscience as much as you please,
corrupted by ambition, tell me the jealousies it doth not inspire,
the detestable intrigues it doth not carry on, the deceits and trea-
cheries, if requisite for its purpose, it doth not put in practice ?
When conscience acts in concert with the lust of gain, tell me the
injustice it doth not allow of, the extortion and usury it doth not
connive at, the fraud and simony it doth not palliate, the vex-
ations and chicaneries it doth not justify ? When conscience is
ruled by animosity and hatred, tell me the resentment and bitter-
ness of heart it doth not authorise, the vindictive contrivances it
doth not support, the discord and enmity it doth not foment, the
arrogance and obduracy it doth not approve of? No, it is an
impetuous torrent which nothing'can resist. It covers a multitude

302 ON AN ERRONEOUS CONSCIENCE.

of enormous sins ; not, like charity, by effacing, but by tolerating,
supporting, and defending them.

The Jews, misled by an erroneous conscience, nailed the Holy
of Holies, Jesus Christ our Lord, to an opprobrious cross. Thus
men are misguided by false suggestions, and thus were misguided
a people who gloried in their having religion. The most horrible
and shocking of all crimes, Deicide, they thought a religious duty
and a matter of conscience ; and upon the same principles are daily
committed, without bloodshed, the most cruel homicides. That
is, actuated by wrong principles, men cut their neighbour's throat,
stab him in the dark, deprive him of his reputation, more dear to
him than life, destroy his good name, ruin by ill offices his fortune
and credit. Take not offence at the comparison with the Jews ;
it is but too well founded. They made no difficulty to imbrue their
hands in the blood of the Just One, which they eagerly demanded,
though scrupulous and superstitious ; at the same time, they would
not set foot in the house of Pilate, being a Gentile, lest they should
suffer contamination, and be made thereby unworthy to participate
of the Paschal Lamb. By a similar absurdity, at this day but too
common in the world, people swallow a camel, and digest him too,
while, ridiculously nice, they strain at a gnat. That is, they give
themselves up to the most violent passions, demand satisfaction,
take unjust revenge, seize other's property, retain it unlawfully,
prey upon the widow and the orphan, rob the poor and the defence-
less ; and in the mean time upbraid themselves, like the Pharisees,
with things of no consequence, as with so many crimes. They arc
exact and regular to a degree of scrupulosity, in minute ceremonies
and external observances, but make light of those things which are
most essential and indispensable in religion, namely, justice, mercy,
and faith.

What is an erroneous conscience ? An abyss, (says St. Ber-
nard,) an unfathomable gulf of grievous sins: "A great sea,
wide extended, in which there are reptiles without number." Ps. cviii.
Why reptiles ? Because as the reptile (says tins holy father) insi-
nuates itself smoothly, and creeps on gently ; so sin imperceptibly
steals into a conscience, through apertures which passion and error
have made. And why reptiles without number ? Because as the
sea, by its prodigious fruitfulness, abounds with reptiles, of which
it produces innumerable kinds, and of each kind an infinite number ;

ON AN ERRONEOUS CONSCIENCE. 303

so an erroneous conscience is fruitful in sins of every kind ; sins
that spring from it, and multiply in it.

It is in such a conscience (continues St. Bernard) that envy,
hatred, aversions, and ranklings are engendered and quickened.
There refined obliquity, insidious calumny, evil designs, and dis-
guised treachery, by an accursed policy, are artfully dissembled.
There carnal desires and deliberate consent, which arc not perceived ;
secret, but criminal connexions, the danger of which is not appre-
hended; growing passions, which soon predominate, being not
resisted, are encouraged and cherished. There pride is hidden
under the assumed mask of humility ; hypocrisy retires beneath the
veil of godliness; sensuality, the most dangerous, takes the appear-
ance of politeness. There vices are heaped on vices, because there
concentrated, and in their own element. There are reptiles with-
out number. What arc we not exposed to, what are Ave not capa-
ble of, by following the dictates of a conscience blinded by sinful
habits ?

2ndly. This is not all : I add, that by means of a misguided
conscience, people run into evil boldly and calmly. Boldly, for
they meet with no inward opposition ; calmly, for they feel no in-
ward disturbance. A good understanding (according to St. Au-
gustin) is held on such occasions, between the sinner and his con-
science; and they at last agree, that, without interrupting the
habit of sinning, the sinner shall enjoy tranquillity of mind. Now
tranquillity in sin is the greatest of evils. No, Christians; sin,
unaccompanied by peace of mind, is not absolutely the evil we
.should most apprehend : and peace of mind, unaccompanied by
jsin, is, beyond all doubt, the greatest good we can possibly wish
for. But both the one and the other, that is, peace of mind and
sin together, are the sovereign evils of the present life, which brings
the sinner to the brink of perdition.

This, beloved hearers, is the melancholy effect of an erroneous
conscience- Mind, if you please, St. Bernard's remark : it will
throw light on this subject. Thus he distinguishes four different
sorts of consciences : one, which is good, quiet, and peaceable ;
another, which is good, but disturbed and uneasy ; another which
is bad, but in agitation and trouble ; another, which is bad, but at
ease and undisturbed. And hear how he reasons thereupon: "A
good, quiet, peaceable conscience (he observes) is, without dispute,
an anticipated paradise ; a good conscience, disturbed and uneasy, is

304 ON AN ERRONEOUS CONSCIENCE.

a kind of purgatory in this life, by which Almighty God is some-
times pleased to make trial of the holiest and most godly souls.
A bad conscience, in agitation and trouble, proceeding from a view
of its own crimes, is a hell upon earth. But there is (adds he) a
thing which outgoes this hell upon earth, and that thing is a bad
conscience at ease and undisturbed, which is the last stage of an
erroneous conscience." For a criminal conscience, but stung with
remorse, whatever analogy it may bear to hell, is not at least totally
destitute of light, and by consequence there remain in it the prin-
ciples of compunction, contrition, and conversion. The sinner
revolts against the God of heaven, is conscious of his misfortune, and
hath a deep sense of the eternal punishment due to his rebellion.
His passion overpowers him, and enslaves him to iniquity, but doth
not debar him from a knowledge of his duty, and from submitting
to truth. A worldling, therefore, though immersed in debauchery,
if his conscience be right, and bear a comparative relation to the
state of his soul, is not totally gone astray from the fear of God ;
because he hath still, notwithstanding his extravagance, a just dis-
cernment of right and wrong, by winch, with the aid of divine
grace, he may be disengaged from the latter, and brought over to
the former.

But in an erroneous conscience there is nothing but darkness, a
thousand times more fatal than eternal darkness, of which mention
is made by the Son of God, as from it proceed the obstinacy of the
sinner, and his hardness of heart ; internal darkness, darkness of
conscience, darkness which makes him, in the midst of his irregu-
larities, be satisfied with himself, relying on God's goodness, bear
testimony to his own fictitious innocence, with the possession of
which he flatters himself, though given over by the Almighty to
a reprobate sense, who pronounces a most formidable sentence
against him.

3rdly. And this was what I meant, when in the last instance I
said, that with an erroneous conscience, people commit evil without
resource. For, the great resource of a sinner is, a regular con-
science which condemns the sin, and owns it to be such, in the very
committing of it. It is thus that God calls us, presses us, forces
us, as I may say, to return to our duty, and pay due submission and
obedience to his law. It was thus that the grace of our Lord and
Saviour gained a complete victory over the heart of Augustin.
That uprightness, and as it were that honesty of conscience, which

ON AN ERRONEOUS CONSCIENCE. 805

he preserved in the height of his irregularities, was a healing remedy
for those very irregularities. Yes, O Lord, (says he, addressing him-
self to God, in the "Confession of his Life," a confession which I
might propose as a perfect model to all penitent souls ;) " yes, O Lord,
it was this that saved me, this that drew me out of the deep abyss,
the gulf of my iniquities. My conscience sided with you; my con-
science, though culpable, yet an equitable judge, made me return to
you." Such, dear Christians, was the economy of grace in the con-
version of Augustin. That fund of conscience which remained within
him, and which sin itself was not able to destroy, was the immediate
occasion of all those mercies which it pleased the Almighty to
shower down upon him. The disturbance of that conscience,
that criminal conscience, yet, notwithstanding its crimes, conform-
able to the law, was the last grace, but the most efficacious, and
the most invincible of all the graces which God had in store, in
order to bend and soften his hard and impenitent heart. A com-
fortable reflection this is for a sinner in the horrors of agitation, and
inwardly tormented with corroding anxieties ! While the sugges-
tions of my conscience make me feel those cruel but salutary pains,
by reproaching me with my sin, I am not abandoned by my boun-
tiful God : his grace operates in me ; I have still room to hope ;
my salvation is in his hands ; nor are the mercies of the Lord as yet
exhausted. Of this the remorses which tear my heart are a con-
vincing proof, as thereby God shows me the way I am to take in
order to return to him.

With a right conscience, how distant soever we may be from
God, there is no just reason to despair of reformation. This we
learn from daily experience, by which we find, that on a thousand
occasions, God is pleased to manifest (as St. Paul expresses it) the
treasures of his grace ; and that those who have scandalized man-
kind by their wickedness, give them, by their conversion, the most
edifying example. On the contrary, with an erroneous conscience,
mortally wounded, there is no possibility of a sinner being cured.
Deeply engaged in the greatest crimes, and a long continuance of
evil conduct, he is past all hopes of returning to God. Headstrong
and hardened, incorrigible and inflexible, as he hath lived in sin,
so he dies in sin. Whence it follows, that an erroneous con-
science, more especially if at ease, should be looked upon in the order
of divine judgment, as a punishment of God, his most dreadful
vengeance, and the commencement of reprobation.

306 ON AN ERRONEOUS CONSCIENCE.

Upon this account it was, that the prophet Isaias, animated with
zeal for the glory of God and the honour of his cause, and seem-
ingly desirous that the impiety of the Israelites should be punished
from above, made use only of this emphatic expression, " Blind the
heart of this people." That is, blind the conscience of this people.
He did not say, Lord, humble, or confound, or oppress, or over-
whelm, or ruin this people. All that would have been but little
in comparison with blindness. In this blindness of heart all was
comprised. As who should say ; it is thus, O Lord, thou shalt be
thoroughly avenged. Though war, pestilence, and famine, should
lay waste the land, and temporal disasters of every kind should
befall these ungrateful and unruly souls, they would be punished
only by halves. But let their consciences be involved in the dark-
ness of ignorance, and the measure of thy wrath, as of their ini-
quity, will be filled up. Thus he conceived that blindness of con-
science was the greatest and most horrible punishment of sin.

But on that very account, and in a spirit quite contrary to that
of Isaias, I prefer a prayer, and address myself to God : Ah! Lord,
how incensed soever you may be against them, blind not the hearts
of these people ; blind not the consciences of those who hear me,
whom I have not yet the misfortune to serve with reluctance, a
reluctance arising from the ill use which they made of your divine
word and my ministration. Pour forth your wrath on whatever
else you please, but spare their consciences. Their goods and for-
tunes are at your disposal, but do not deprive them of the light
that should direct them in the path of virtue. Let them be hum-
bled, mortified, impoverished, debased, according to the notions of
worldly men ; but dispel not the ray that should direct their steps.
To whatever punishment you are pleased to inflict, they are ready
to submit, except the depriving them of a due knowledge and sight
of their duty. This woidd be to ruin them, and to ruin them for
ever, and to condemn them in tins life to eternal reprobation.

Thus I have proved, that it is easy to adopt an erroneous con-
science, and that it is dangerous and pernicious to follow its dic-
tates. It remains that I show, in the third and last part, how una-
vailing it will be in the presence of God, to allege in our justifi-
cation an error in conscience.

Part. III. It must be allowed, Christians, that God, who is
merciful as well as just, would not impute to us our errors as
crimes, were they a voluntary oifspring of a candid mind ; and the

ON AN ERRONEOUS CONSCIENCE. 307

sinner might avail himself of his wrong conscience with reason,
alleging it as a Lawful excuse to God for his sin, if it admitted of
the characteristic I am now speaking of, namely, candour. But
the question is asked, whether this be always, or often the case ?
This interrogatory is of the utmost consequence, being an impor-
tant rule, whereon depends, in the occurrences of life, the nice dis-
cernment and exact judgment, with which it is incumbent on all
mankind to scrutinize their actions. We are, therefore, to find
out, whether candour be a characteristic generally applicable to the
erroneous consciences of the sinners of the age, so that an erroneous
conscience may be a colour or title to exculpate or justify them in
the presence of God. Ah ! beloved hearers, I would it were so !
A thousand sins would cease to be sins, and the world would be
disburdened without grace or penance, of an infinity of crimes,
which virtuous souls have deplored in all ages, and still deplore.

But if that were the case, (replies St. Bernard,) why did David,
that religious king, in the fervour of contrition, beg of Almighty
God, as a special favour, that he 'would forget his ignorances ;
thereby intimating what it was that gave rise to the disorder of
his conscience? " The sins of my youth, and my ignorances do
not remember." Ps. xxiv. Would he not, on the contrary have
said : O Lord, call to mind my past ignorances, and forget them
not ? For, as it is by them I am to be justified in your divine sight,
it is much for my interest that you never lose the remembrance of
them, and that they be uninterruptedly before your eyes. Did he
speak in this maimer ? No ; he said, forget them : blot them out
of that excessively dreadful book, which you will produce against
me when you shall judge me in the extent and rigour of your jus-
tice. Think not of the evil I have done unknowingly, because
not to have known it, is itself a crime deserving of punishment :
" And my ignorances do not remember." It is not, therefore, true,
that ignorance, and by consequence, a wrong conscience, is on all
occasions an allowable excuse for acting contrary to the divine
commands.

Further : I maintain that it seldom is, and that in the present
age it is a frivolous pretext, for these two cogent and unanswerable
reasons ; because wc live in too enlightened an age to suppose a
conscience at once in error and invincible ignorance ; and because
it is in the power of God, at this present time, to refute the errors
of one conscience bv the rectitude of another, which is within u*,

308 ON AN ERRONEOUS CONSCIENCE.

or which, though not within us, riseth up against us in our own
despite. Spare me your attention a moment longer, and you shall
thoroughly be convinced of the truth of my assertion.

1st. No, Christians, in an age so enlightened as that in which
God hath given us existence, we must not presume, that among
mankind, there are many consciences both erroneous and innocent.
Few there are in that predicament, and in this audience, I am bold
enough to say, there is not one. For if you that had been faithful
to the light of grace, which Almighty God abundantly communi-
cated to you, and if you had made use of the means by which he
enabled you to acquire a knowledge of your duty, the errors pro-
ductive of so many trespasses would never have blinded you, or
perverted your conscience. I will, with your leave, descend to
particulars. For instance, if, before you entered upon action, or
came to a decision on essential points, you had diffided in yourself;
if you had calmly consulted a man of good sense and a virtuous
Christian, who would have disclosed his mind to you without dis-
guise ; if you had given unrestrained access to those, from whose
capacity and experience you might have learned the truth ; if you
had cultivated the acquaintance of such persons as wanted neither
the will nor the power to suggest the best measures ; if the pecu-
liarity of your temper, or repugnance to hear them, had not
stopped the mouths of your ablest friends ; if fawning sycophants
had not by these means got possession of your mind ; if among
God's ministers, who are the interpreters of Ins law, you had
recourse to those whom he had provided, the most liberally, with
the gift of knowledge, and were known to be so ; if you had
sought skilful, not indulgent directors ; if you had not, in the
very tribunal of penance, preferred what was convenient to what
was salutary, the erroneous conscience Ave are now examining
would never have taken place. It took place, therefore, be-
cause 3'ou resisted the graces and lights which God afforded
you. It took place, because you spent your days in extreme indo-
lence, with regard to your obligations ; because the least of your
concern was to be rightly instructed ; because, hurried away by
pleasure, or taken up with the enjoyment of worldly amusements,
or voluntarily and unnecessarily overpowered with a thousand
temporal affairs, you were not at the pains of being thoroughly
grounded in the principles of your religion ; because, being fond of
internal peace and tranquillity of mind, you were unwilling to dive

ON AN ERRONEOUS CONSCIENCE. 309

into that which would evidently, but profitably, have disturbed it.
It took place, because you always, in doubtful cases, appealed to
your own, and no other judgment ; because in process of time you
contracted a habit of indulging your presumption, and believed
you surpassed, in penetration and discernment, the rest of mankind ;
because you always assumed the liberty of acting according to
your own notion of things, rejecting wise counsel, impatient of
contradiction, glorying in your perversity, and, as the scripture
speaks, unwilling to hear or to know anything, lest you should be
obliged to take up with the practice of Christian duties for the rest
of your life : " He would not understand that he might do well/'
Ps. iii.

Borne away in this manner by the current of the world, you
adjusted your conscience to your will and pleasure, and fell at last,
careless, into a woful blindness. Now are you not unjust, the most
unjust of men, if you expect that a conscience, founded on such prin-
ciples, will render you excusable before the God of justice ? Such
allegations might well become pagans, enveloped in the darkness
of superstition and infidelity. They might, perhaps, become those
whose minds are uncultivated, and who, by their situation, are
destitute of education, and proper instruction. But you, Chris-
tians, who pretend to be endowed with understanding and discern-
ment in an uncommon degree ; you, whom the light, if 1 may
venture the expression, environs on all sides ; you, who have so
many and such good opportunities of investigating the truth, and
of knowing it to the bottom : what right have you to say that you
were beguiled by an error in conscience ? Of this mistake, this
empty excuse, the only effect is, to make you more criminal. It
is a cloak for your wickedness, which, when you make use of,
you enhance the crime by ascribing to God that which with shame
you should impute to yourselves.

2ndly. We are the more liable to have sentence of condem-
nation pronounced against us at God's tribunal, as he will judge us
not only by the errors of our consciences considered absolutely, but
of our consciences compared with the consciences of the pagans ;
compared with our nicety, and even with our severity, in regard
to others ; compared with our notions antecedent to sin, of good
and evil. These (says St. Augustin) are so many rules which we
ought to have followed, with a view to regulate, or at least to
retrieve, a conscience unspotted and duly informed ; which having

310 ON AN ERRONEOUS CONSCIENCE.

been neglected, will be so many efficients of our condemnation.
Happy should I be, should I persuade you, tliis day, to turn them
to advantage !

God will make use of the consciences of the pagans to condemn
those of Christians. Thus Tertullian put some Christian women,
whom he instructed, to the blush ; women actuated by the spirit
of the world, who made no scruple of a certain unguarded, unbe-
coming demeanor. In particular he upbraided them with the
indecency of their attire, artfully negligent, and incompatible with
modesty. Is it not a shame (says he) that there should be pagans
in the world more delicate than you are on this head ? Is it not
a shame, that the Arabian women, with wdiose manners and
customs you are well accmainted, far from being addicted to such
indecencies, have always detested them as a land of prostitution ;
and that you, fostered in the bosom of the Christian religion,
should pretend to justify them by a corrupt practice, of which the
world avails itself to no purpose, as it is held in abhorrence and
stigmatized by God ? And let it be remembered (he adds) that
you will be judged before God by these very pagans. And I say,
pursuing the same thought, is it not very strange, and no less
deplorable, that we should allow ourselves liberties with impunity,
and without remorse, in a thousand particulars, which the pagans
themselves considered as criminal ? That in" point of justice, we
blush not at artifices, subterfuges, and chicanaries, which the court
of Areopagus would have disallowed ? That we should put
our money at disproportionate interest, amounting to usury, a
practice condemned by all the Eoman laws ? That we should
qualify with the epithet of decent, or at least of lawful, public
diversions, spectacles, and exhibitions, which (according to St.
Augustin) rendered those infamous who represented them ?
"Whence arose these rigid sentiments, and this severity of the law ?
From a natural rectitude of conscience ; and it is this right con-
science of the pagans that will condemn ours. For, it is an article
of faith, that they will rise up against us at the general judgment ;
and certain it is, that this very comparison between them and us,
will be one of the most galling reproaches of our blindness.

But to keep closer to the point in hand : our conscience is blind
in our regard, and clear-sighted in regard to others ; indulgent to
ourselves to a degree of remissness, and exact upon others to a
degree of seventy. What then will God do ? In order to con-

ON AN EURONEOUS CONSCIENCE. 311

demn the one by the other, these two consciences he will confront.
For, it is written, that we shall be judged as we shall have judged
others, and that God will show us favour as we shall have shown
it to others.

In fine, Almighty God will recall to our minds those former
notions, so just and so holy, which, before it blinded us, we
entertain of sin. Whatever revolutions may have happened in
our conscience, we have not yet forgotten that happy condition, in
which our innocence and the justness of our reason, disengaged us
from the errors aud delusions of the world. We still recollect
those primary ideas, by which we judged with such propriety of
things relating to the divine law. The sin we now look upon as
a very trifle, appeared to us, once, as a very monster ; and it was
conscience inspired us with that sentiment.

This mischief, therefore, of an erroneous conscience, I conjure
you, beloved hearers, to beware of, or redress. In order thereto,
you should never lose sight of these two maxims, these eternal
truths, which on all occasions should regulate your conduct : one,
that the way to heaven is narrow ; the other, that a narrow way
bears no proportion to a wide conscience The latter is self-evident,
and the former is founded on the words of Jesus Christ : " Narrow
is the way that leadcth unto life." Matt. vii. This, if you are
Christians ever so little, will be a sufficient inducement to resolve
on a solid and perfect conversion, liemember that you have the
power of regulating your consciences in the manner you please ;
but that you have not the power of widening the way which leads
to life. The way of God is not to be adapted to your consciences,
but your consciences to the way of God. Now this cannot be,
while they are influenced by the maxims and customs of the times.
In order to attain the degree of proportion without which they are
exposed to certain reprobation, they must necessarily be restrained
either by a reasonable fear, or a punctual obedience* If in pro-
portion to the latitude you took in the observance of your duty,
the narrow way to heaven grew wider and wider, alas ! brother,
(cries the pious St. Bernard,) far from deterring you from living
so freely, I should in some shape myself encourage you to it.
Well and good, would I say : as you have found out a way equally
secure, and not so difficult, that leads to salvation, proceed in it
resolutely, you have a right to do so without controul. But the
case is otherwise. The inspired writings make no mention of a

312 ON TRUE AND FALSE PIETY.

wide way that leads to heaven. There is but one gate: and
to enter by that, the apostle informs us, it is requisite we make a
generous effort ; which if we do, we shall be well rewarded with
the glory that is promised us.

SERMON XV.

ON TRUE AND FALSE PIETY.

For the Fifth Sunday after Pentecost.

" Verily I say unto you : Unless your righteousness shall
exceed that of the Scribes and Pharisees, ye shall not enter into
the kingdom of heaven." Matt. v. 20.

This is the idea, beloved Christians, and a noble one it is, which
Jesus Christ gives us of the gospel law, and of the perfection it
includes. You know what the Pharisees were among the Jews ;
men of a solitary and retired life, sequestered from the multitude,
and holding no communication with the people ; men looked upon
as saints, equally respected by the vulgar and the great, and whose
exemplary life was at once the admiration and edification of the
public. But (who could have believed it ?) Jesus Christ, notwith-
standing all this holiness, declares to us in the gospel, nay, assures
us with an oath : " Verily I say unto you," that if our piety surpass
not that of the devotionalists of the synagogue, we shall never be
received into the kingdom of heaven ; that the greatest virtue to
which they seemed raised, is not sufficient for the first degree of
perfection in a Christian ; and that to stop there, were not to fulfil
the duty of our state, or answer the end of our vocation. Such
a declaration of our blessed Saviour ought, it should seem, to dis-
courage us, and throw us into a secret desponency. But this was
not what the Saviour of the world had in view. If he makes de-
crees, it is not for our destruction, but for our instruction ; if he
speaks, he speaks as a master, not as a judge : and if he places the
example of the Pharisees before us, it is only to let us see what

ON TRUE AND FALSE PIETY. 313

disorders may corrupt the most apparent devotion, and teach us to
avoid them. It is, indeed, a subject of infinite importance ; and
of all those which I have treated in this pulpit, or shall treat here-
after, it is perhaps one of the most useful. To serve God is the
end of our existence. Our salvation is annexed to the service of
God ; and thereon depends our eternal happiness or eternal wo.
But in the service of God there are rocks to be feared ; and there-
fore, how important must it be for us to have a thorough know-
ledge of them, in order to guard against them.

The most brilliant gold is not always the most pure ; and the
most shining piety is not always the most solid, or the most per-
fect. Of this assertion can we desire a more authentic and clear
proof, than to instance in the Pharisees and teachers of the law ?
Their works, the most holy to all appearance, were not only unpro-
fitable in the presence of God, but expressly condemned by him.
This appears evidently from three irregularities, which I purpose
to encounter in the three divisions of this discourse. And truly,
what was this Pharisaical piety ? A hypocritical, false, and vicious
piety ; first, in its subject, secondly, in its end, thirdly, in its form.
Be pleased to take notice. Vicious in its subject, because it affected
a scrupulous regularity as to small observances, while it shamefully
neglected the most essential duties. Vicious in its end, because it
had no object in view but its own advantages and worldly interests.
In fine, vicious in its form, because it was external, and consisted
totally in a certain outside. Upon this account it was, that the
Son of God attacked them so openly, and blasted them so often
with his maledictions. But would we, my brethren, make sure of
our salvation, by a true and sincere piety before God, and render
ourselves agreeable in his divine sight, let us correct in ourselves
these three failings. That is, let our piety be entire, disinterested,
and internal. Entire, taking in whatever concerns the service of
God ; and above all, not to prefer the counsels to the precepts.
Disinterested, seeking only God and his kingdom, without any
regard to what we might have otherwise reason to hope for with
respect to the world, and the things of the world. Internal, resi-
ding in the heart, and issuing from the heart. If, by these three
characteristic marks, we do not raise ourselves above the Pharisees,
if we give not a more extensive range to our piety, if we propose
not to it a more noble end, if it take not its rise in the secret recesses
and bottom of our hearts, we must not flatter ourselves that it will

x

,S14 ON TRUE AND FALSE PIETY.

ever make us find grace and favour in the presence of God : " Unless
our righteousness shall exceed that of the Scribes and Pharisees,
we shall not enter into the kingdom of heaven." Of this it is my
purpose to convince you in order ; and to this I request you would
hearken attentively.

Part I. That there should be a piety, beloved Christians, the
fault of which should consist in taking too great latitudes in small
matters, while invariably fixed to the point of rectitude in matters
of consequence, is not surprising. It is owing to our frailty ; and
this frailty is so natural, that it is, one would think, in some mea-
sure excusable. But that there should be a pretended piety, the
character of which should be, to be exact to a degree of scrupu-
losity, in the slightest practices, and to neglect the most important
points of the law, is the most gross of all mistakes, and may be
looked upon as folly, and a perversion of the mind. For what pur-
pose can this zeal for the observance of the counsels simply, answer,
if at the same time,, we abandon and violate the most express com-
mandments ? By fulfilling the precepts, though I neglect the coun-
sels, I show God a fidelity for which he will reward me ; because,
after all, I do what he requires, and I obey him in that which he
commands. But by submitting to the counsels, without obeying
the precepts, I labour to no purpose, nay, become culpable in the
eyes of God, as under the colour of an imaginary perfection, I
transgress his adorable will, and overlook my most strict obligations.
This, however, beloved Christians, is one of the most usual inor-
dinations in the world ; and it is the visible and insupportable abuse
which the Son of God condemned in the Pharisees, and which is
but too common among us. Consider what it was in these sages
of the Jewish religion, and thereby correct it in your own persons.
For, " wo unto you, Scribes and Pharisees, hypocrites," (Matt,
xxiii.,) says the Saviour of men. Your whole piety amounts to
no more than the observance of certain ceremonies and customs, and
paying certain tithes, of which the law makes no mention, and to
comply with which it is not absolutely incumbent on you ; and
nevertheless, you forget your capital duties : "Ye pay tithe of mint,
and of anise, and of cummin, and have omitted the weightier mat-
ters, of the law, justice, mercy, and faith." Matt, xxiii. The law
commands you to be equitable in your judgments, and you commit,
every day, the most crying injustices. The law recommends you
to be faithful in society and the intercourse of life, and you are full

ON TRUE AND FALSE PIETY. 315

of artifice and dissimulation. The law requires that you be mild
and patient, and charitable to your neighbour ; and, through an
extravagant rigorousness, you are hard upon weak persons, desti-
ture of fellow-feeling, and unable to compassionate human infir-
mities. " Blind guides ! ye strain at a gnat, and swallow a camel."
Matt, xxiii. Thus, I say, the Son of God bespoke them ; and
this, in fact, was the vice of the Pharisees. If the observance of
the sabbath-day was the point in question, they were exact to super-
stition ; but on that same day they plotted against our Saviour,
and took measures to destroy him. They objected to the apostles,
as though it were a crime, that they did not wash their hands before
meals ; but at the same time they made light of the most inviolable
and sacred law of nature, which is to honour our parents ; for they
taught children to despise them, to behave ungratefully to them,
and not to afford them the necessary assistance. When they were
to have appeared in the judgment-hall of Pilate, in which a God-
man, the deliverer of Israel, and the Holy of Holies, against whom
they had declared, was to have been interrogated, and have judg-
ment passed on him, they refused to go in, because that day was
the eve of the Passover, on which the Jews were not allowed to
approach a pagan, without contracting a kind of contamination,
which made them unfit to cat the Paschal Lamb : " And they
themselves went not into the judgment-hall, lest they should be
defiled." John xviii. Very delicate consciences indeed ! They
feared lest the house of Pilate should infect them, and they did not
fear being stained by a most atrocious and sacrilegious deed. They
durst not show themselves before a foreign judge ; but they had
the boldness to prosecute and oppress an innocent person, to suborn
and bring false witnesses against him, to spill his blood, and make
him die on a cross.

Now, Christians, is there not a striking likeness between this
piety and that of these times ? For we must not look upon this
Pharisaical devotion as a phantom, which the law of Jesus hath
reduced to nought. It still subsists, and subsists in the very cen-
tre of Christianity, in the bosom of the church. To be persuaded
of it, you need only give a little attention to what passes all around
you every day. A man hath his fixed times for prayer, for reading
good books, and for going to the sacraments. It is a track of life
which he hath marked out for himself, or which his director hath
marked out for him. And upon this he is bent to such a degree,

x2

316 ON TRUE AND FALSE PIETY,

that all the business in the world could not induce him to omit
one point of that which hath been prescribed to him, or of that
which he hath prescribed to himself. But hear him in conversa-
tion : he holds the most satirical and defamatory discourses : in a
devout accent he condemns one, and discloses whatever is most
sacred in the conduct of another ; he spares nobody ; and, as though
he were deputed by heaven for the general reformation of manners,
he arraigns all mankind with impunity. But see him engaged in
an affair in which he thinks himself offended ; there is no satisfac-
tion which he doth not demand, and perhaps no reparation can
satisfy him. His own cause, he thinks the cause of God, or at
least you will never be able to make him think himself in any
degree in the wrong, and that justice is not entirely on his side. Of
these specious principles he avails himself to foment in his heart
the most lively resentment, and to justify in practice the most
unrighteous vengeance.

A woman is first in the list of saints, she hath the use of medi-
tation, and aspires to prayer the most sublime. She would not
forgive herself to have deviated once from a certain line of life
which she follows, and which she hath made an invariable rule.
Do but oppose her, however, on some occasion, and you will find
her haughty, disdainful, impatient, highly prizing herself for the
regularity of her life, and the strictness of her virtue, to enjoy the
liberty of doing what she pleases, and as she pleases. Examine
the whole of her domestic economy, and how she behaves to all
the family ; she is neither complaisant to her husband, nor affec-
tionate to her children, nor watchful over her servants. Every one
must suffer for her whims, and be plagued with the vicissitudes of
her humour. Provided she have past a part of the day before the
altar, and assisted at certain devotional ceremonies, though the busi-
ness of the house were neglected and in disorder, she would scarce
be at pains to remedy the evil.

What might I not say of every other state, were I inclined to
protract this detail ? Is there one that would not furnish me with
innumerable instances of this frivolous, capricious, ill-judged piety ?
Is it not true, that the very ministers of the Lord, whose duty it
is to give good example, and lead the people in the way of God,
fall sometimes unaccountably into these inordinate and evil prac-
tices ? How many of them have we seen exert a most ardent zeal
to maintain or re-establish the fallen discipline of the church ; and

ON TRUE AND FALSE PIETY. 317

notwithstanding all this, divide, in some measure, the church her-
self, by fomenting factions, and occasioning revolts among her
members ! And as such is the case, beloved hearers, what have I
to do, but to resume the curse which our Saviour uttered, and to
say after him : " Wo be to you, not only to you, Scribes and Phari-
sees, but to you, Christians, unworthy of the sacred name you bear,
and of the religion you profess ? Wo, not only to you who lead
a life of open and declared libertinism, and give yourselves up to
all the depravity of the world, but to you likewise who would gladly
persuade yourselves that you belong to God, and are addicted to
his service, and accordingly would raise the superstructure of piety
to the highest degree, and neglect at the same time the foundation.'*

For, which are the foundations of Christian sanctity, such as our
Saviour himself hath represented it ? The example of the young
man in the gospel shows it evidently. He found himself moved
by an impulse of God ; he was desirous of labouring for his sanc-
tification and salvation; and, accordingly, he came to receive advice
from the divine Master, to whom, in order to hear eternal truths
from his mouth, people flocked on all sides. Now what did the
Son of God say to him ? Did he speak to him of an absolute dis-
engagement from all he was worth in the world ? Did he explain
to him the mystical operations of grace ? Did he converse with
him on the sublime and particular gifts of an extraordinary prayer ?
No, beloved hearers ; but " keep the commandments," replied this
God-man. This is that which you have to do, preferably to all.
other things. If you build not thereupon, the whole edifice of your
perfection being raised upon sand, will fall to destruction of itself,
and overwhelm you in its ruins.

Here, then, I may apply with great propriety, that which the
great apostle said: "Although I should speak all the languages
of the world, and even the language of angels ; although I should
have the gift of prophecy, and were instructed in the mysteries of
God, so that nothing should escape the extent of my knowledge ;
although I should work miracles so as to transport mountains,
should lay out every farthing I am worth in relieving the necessities
of the poor, should offer myself for martyrdom, and deliver up my
body to the mostcruel torments ; if I have not the charity of God,
(and how should I have it, if I neglect to do that which is required
by the law of God ?) if, I say, I have not this divine charity, I am
nothing, nor at most, I am nothing but sounding brass, or a tink-

318 ON TRUE AND FALSE PIETY.

ling cymbal." Moreover, as the same teacher of the Gentiles,
among the characteristic marks of charity, the sublime excellence
of which he minutely and punctiliously displays, shows us that it
is patient, meek, and benificent ; that it is subject neither to jea-
lousy, nor anger, nor violence of any kind ; that it harbours no
evil opinion of another ; that it loves not injustice, and rejoices not
therein ; in short, that it endures everything, and goes through
everything : it follows, that if I keep not within the bounds of
moderation, on certain occasions, and possess not, according to the
gospel phrase, my soul in patience ; that if I am destitute of the
meekness requisite to keep up peace in the family and in the neigh-
bourhood ; that if, far from being inclined to behave obligingly,
and give content to all the world, I secretly indulge envy against
one, and break out into open disagreement with another ; that if
I too easily admit suspicions and prejudices disadvantageous to
persons with whom 1 am to spend my days, or who are subject to
my obedience; that if I look upon as just whatever a blind zeal
inspires me withal, and endeavour to give my brother uneasiness ;
that if I humble him, and his sorrows, with which I ought to sym-
pathize, are to me a matter of complacency, I may multiply and
accumulate penitential deeds, and add prayer to prayer as long as
I please, my whole piety vanishes like smoke, and is of no weight
in the presence of God.

And for that reason, beloved hearers, what have we not room
to say and to think of those pious women, or of those at least who
think themselves such, but who, without any regard to the engage-
ment of lawful matrimony, and the sacred tie by which they are
bound, persist with a calm mind in divorces, which they try to jus-
tify by specious pretexts, but which an equitable and discerning
public condemns ? What might we not say and think of so many
others on other subjects, which I pass over in silence, and which,
unfortunately, are but too well known ? What, in reality, do peo-
ple say and think of them ? The question is asked, how such and
such a thing, of which these ladies make no scruple, can accord
with devotion ? No one comprehends it ; and without doubt it is
very hard, nay, impossible to comprehend it. Nevertheless, they
go on with their devotions, apply, continually, all their thoughts
to them, and bestow all their solicitude on them ; and if they accuse
themselves of what leans heavily on their conscience, it is only
some negligences in these devotions, and some frailties, which
appear as crimes of uncommon magnitude.

ON Til UK AND FALSE PIETY. 319

How then ! Arc not these devotions good ? Ought they to be
neglected? There, Christians, lies our infatuation, ever to run
into extremes, which are always vicious, and never to steer a mid-
dle course, which is the criterion of real virtue. To limit one's
piety to certain points of supererogation and mere devotion, which
are only the completement of the law, while the ground- work is
overlooked, is an excess of which the sole exposition I have given
of it, is sufficient to let you see the irregularity ; but so to confine
one's self to the ground- work and obligation of the law, as never
to make farther progress, and give up all the practices of a Chris-
tian fervour, is an excess in the other extreme, injurious to God
and to his grace, pernicious to ourselves, and very dangerous in
its consequences. Injurious to God, with whom we keep on the
reserve, although he treats us with such liberality ; injurious to
the grace of God, which we hold in close captivity, although it is
essentially in its free action ; pernicious to ourselves, in that thereby
we lose an immense store of merits and celestial treasures, which
we might and ought to lay up in the present life, and which we
should find in the next; finally, very dangerous in its conse-
quences, since, from negligence in the smallest matters, there is
a speedy passage to negligence in matters of the greatest moment.
What then is perfection, and, of course, piety ? It is an assemblage
both of the one and the other ; a fulness of fidelity that unites the
whole, precept and counsel; precept through duty, and caused
through love ; precept, because it is the order of God; and counsel,
because it is the will of God. For this is the example which
Jesus Christ liimself, our Saviour and our model, hath given us,
when, presenting liimself to the baptism of John, he said to that
divine precursor, who, in the sudden perplexity into which he was
thrown by the humility of his Master, refused to baptize him :
make no opposition to what I do, "for so it becometh us to fulfil
all righteousness." Matt. iii. This is what the Saviour of the
world proposed again to us in his person, for our instruction and
imitation, when he told the Jews, that he was " not come to
abolish the law, but to fulfil it ;" (Matt. v. ;) and presently after-
wards, explaining what it Avas to fulfil the law, he declared, that
" not an iota or tittle should pass from it in any wise, until all
was fulfilled." Matt. iii. This is the excellent rule he hath given
us in few words, which, how short soever, is in some sort an epi-
tome of a Christian's whole conduct : do this, and neglect not that .

320 ON TRUE AND FALSE PIETY.

Do this, which you are commanded to do, and neglect not that,
which you are exhorted to do. As you are commanded to do the
one, you should do it before all things ; and as you are exhorted to
do the other, you should not neglect it, but a holy zeal to please
Almighty God, and promote your own progress in the way of
God, should induce you to it: " These things you must do, nor
must those be left undone." Matt. xiii. Wherefore, were a choice
to be made of one before the other, the former would incontestably
require the preference. But one may perfectly coincide with the
other ; and this wonderful coincidence is owing to true piety. A
piety, entire in its subject, and disinterested in its end. A fresh
advantage, by which it is distinguished from the piety of the Pha-
risees, as we shall now see in the second part.

Part II. Of all the passions, there is not one more generally
diffused through the human heart, than self-interest ; and I may
even add, that it is a universal passion, which is intermixed with
all the others, and which makes them act by its movement
and impression. In reality, self-interest, such as I understand it,
is neither more or less than self-love ; and who is ignorant
what great lengths self-love will go, and how artfully it insinu-
ates itself into all places, and on all occasions ? What doth the
revengeful man intend by harrassing his enemy with malignity
and warmth, and by trying to ruin him ? He would satisfy his
resentment ; and this satisfaction winch he procures, is what I
denominate his own interest. The same may be said of the liber-
tine, the voluptuary, the drunkard, and others. But, beloved
Christians, what cannot sufficiently be deplored is, that piety
itself hath not escaped the baneful influence of self-interest, winch
spoils and corrupts everything the most pure and holy in religion.

Such was the ruling passion of the Pharisees ; and, according
to what the evangelists have reported, their religion and good
works arose from two principal motives. They wanted to be
honoured ; and notwithstanding the austerity they affected exter-
nally, they wanted to be abundantly provided with everything
conducive to the conveniencies and comforts of life. The specious
and the profitable, an easy situation, and an absolute dominion
over the minds of men, were what they aspired to. And to that
intent, what was their wont ? Whatever the good and the vir-
tuous are accustomed to do from principles of true piety. They
led a retired life ; they spent whole days, nay, whole nights, in the

ON TRUE AND FALSE PIETY. 321

temple ; they employed almost all their time in singing the praises
of the Lord before his altar, or in conversing with him in pro-
tracted prayer ; they breathed, it would seem, nothing but penance
and mortification ; they talked of nothing but fasting and abstain-
ing ; they found fault with everything, and incessantly bewailed
the depravation of manners, and the corruption of the age. And
what was the consequence ? What hath happened but too often
in succeeding times. The people, too credulous, and easily misled
by outward appearance, conceived a very high veneration for them.
Great numbers of pious women, with a good intention indeed, but
yet according to the ordinary weakness of their sex, judging of
devotion by I know not what apparent severity, and conceiving
prejudices, as hard to be rooted out of a well meaning soul, as they
are easy to be fixed in it, declared in their favour, sided with them,
put themselves under their direction, entrusted them equally with
the management of their incomes and the salvation of their souls,
enriched them with their fortunes, impoverished themselves for
their convenience, and thought they made a noble sacrifice to God,
by making contributions, in order to preserve in his divine service
men so elevated, so holy, and so perfect : for, this is the account
which the gospel gives of them.

But this is not all. From this general prepossession in their
favour, sprung another effect not less advantageous, nor less con-
formable to the ambitious views of those false devotionalists replete
with pride. For by that means they acquired a credit that gave
them power over everything. They governed families, and gave
directions in houses. Disputes were terminated by their decision.
The most profound respect and all sorts of honour were paid them
in the synagogue and public places. All this soothed their vanity ;
and of this they were jealous to a great degree. And what was
the origin of all this ? The notion that people conceived of their
piety. This (says our Saviour) is the fruit of your prayers, those
venal prayers, which you repeat so often, and continue so long.
These are the means, as we read in St. Mark, by which they
became so powerful and rich : " For a pretence make long
prayers." Mark xii.

Now of all kinds of false piety, I hold that there is not one more
base, than this mercenary, selfish kind. It is equally criminal in the
presence of God, who searches every the most hidden recess of the
human heart, and odious before men, when they find it out, and

322 OK TRUE AND FALSE PIETY.

are able to remove the veil that covers it. Hearken to tlris, 1
beseech you. I say, a kind of false piety, the most criminal and
abominable in the presence of God. For (says St. Chrysostom)
what a profanation, and what a sacrilege, to abuse in this manner,
I do not say holy things, but holiness itself I Should we seize
and carry off the vessels consecrated to the use of the altar, as did
heretofore the king of Babylon, and defile and profane them, it
were a deed deserving of the most rigorous chastisement, because
they are sacred. But, after all, what is the holiness of those vessels,
in comparison with the holiness which is in us, or at least which
ought to be in us ? Those vessels, in strict propriety, are not
holy ; or at least they have only, if I may be allowed to express
myself, a metaphorical holiness, a holiness of analogy and relation ;
but that which is in us is the very form that sanctifies us, the very
unction of divine grace, the source and origin of every other holi-
ness. Judge, therefore, (says St. Chrysostom,) how great must
be your crime in the eyes of God, when you corrupt this holiness,
with a view to gratify some passion ; when you make it subser-
vient either to your avarice, or to your ambition ; when you try to
form a most monstrous complex, by using your endeavours to
make piety coalesce with irregular desires ; piety, that is, which is
most pure and precious, and irregular desires, which of themselves
are gross and terrestrial.

Accordingly, Salvian knew not a more formal contempt of God
than that which we are speaking of; and this opinion he hath
delivered in clear and express terms. To serve the world (says
this great bishop) for God, is a virtue ; to serve the world for the
world, is vice. What then must it be to serve God for the world ?
How can we do the supreme Being a more glaring injury ? Now
such is the horrid outrage he receives from a selfish piety. For
then our interest is the end we propose, and we consider God as
a means only to obtain this end. And because the end is not sub-
servient to the means, but the means to the end, so far are we from
serving God in this disposition, that we would have him serve us :
we would have him be aiding and instrumental in satisfying our
irregular desires, our delicacy, our vanity, our pride, according to
the just complaint which he made by the mouth of his prophet :
" Thou hast made me to serve in thy sins." Isai. xliii.

For this reason, false piety is not only criminal in the sight of
God, but hateful to men. They hate it so soon as ever they per-

ON TRUE AND FAL6E PIETY. 323

ceive it, and wherever they perceive it. Nor id this surprising, since
nothing is more dangerous, or more to be dreaded, than self-inte-
rest blended with devotion, or devotion influenced by self-interest.
A devotee of this sort, (allow me the expression,) a self-interested
devotee, is capable of every thing. Mind the words " every tiling."
In the first place, because he gives everything, sometimes the most
iniquitous, an appearance of piety, wliich deceives himself j and of
which he would not be undeceived. But, in the second place,
capable of everything, because whatever intention passion may
suggest to him, his piety, or rather the self-esteem in which this
ostentatious piety confirms him, puts it in his power to obtain his
end, and secures him success. Would he take revenge, there is
no opposition. Would he supplant a rival, he is all-powerful.
Would lie blast his neighbour's fame and reputation, he puts him
down. His sole testimony were sufficient to condemn innocence
itself. And is it not — (I shall say it, not with a view of bringing
tiiie piety into disesteem, God forbid ! but to condemn the abuses
which may creep into it, and which have crept into it at all times,)
is it not by means of false piety that men of mean understandings
have been raised to high dignities, and that the most unworthy
of consideration and recommendation have been the most recom-
mended and the most considered, and, without any claim or merit
than assuming a certain air of reformation, have left more deserv-
ing competitors behind, and got possession of the first places ?
Now, I ask, is there anything to judge by our feelings, more capa-
ble to raise our aversion and indignation ?

Let us not dissemble the matter, my brethren, it is this self-
interest Avhich hath been in all ages the greatest scandal of devotion,
and which, if I may use the expression, hath villified it in the
world. This is what hath opened the mouths of dissenters from the
Catholic faith, and hath made them declaim so eloquently against
us. The abuse they remarked in the soundest part of the Christian
people ; that they would not consecrate themselves to the church,
but from interested motives to get an honourable settlement, to be
invested with a dignity and appear in it with splendor, to take
possession, as the prophet speaks, of the sanctuary of God ; and
that they only consider the good of their families, and esteemed
employments and livings in proportion to the revenues and profits
arising from them: the covetousness they discovered in some
ecclesiastics, who ardently wish to reap temporal advantages in the

324 ON TRUE AND FALSE PIETY.

spiritual field, and would not take part in the sacred ministry, or
apply tlieir care to it, but according to the measure of emoluments
they expected to draw from it : the restless zeal and extreme
vivacity they observed in others, to make good their right, setting
up for sovereigns, and seeking to glut themselves with certain
honours, under the specious colour of feeding their flocks : the
emulation they perceived between one body of men and another,
to bring into vogue certain devotions that were useful to them.
All these, beloved Christians, are topics on which the enemies of
the church have very liberally thrown out their censures, and
exerted their abilities.

And even at this day, what notion have worldly people of
piety? What do they think of it ? How do they speak of it ? Full
of the prejudices which so many proofs have established in the
world, as incontestable principles, against the partizans of devotion,
they persuade themselves that all devout persons have their ends
in view : that one tries to gain the favour of the great, that another
seeks help and protection of which he stands in need ; that one
endeavours to be a spiritual director, that another hath attach-
ments still more criminal. Thus they talk, and you know how
contemptuously. Insomuch that what ought to be an occasion of
praise, is unfortunately become a cause of reproach ; and that the
epithet devout, which, whether applied to man or woman, in its
own signification, expresses that which is most respectable in the
Christian religion, carries with it now-a-days a cloud that eclipses
its whole splendor.

Upon this account it was, that the Son of God commissioning
his apostles to preach the gospel, insisted that they should do it
with as much disinterestedness, as spirit and resolution. Insomuch
that he would not allow them to possess a second garment, and
forbad them the enjoyment of any property for their subsistence.
Upon this account it was, that he recommended to them, in such
strong terms, to seek neither honours, nor dignities, nor prece-
dence, even in his kingdom, which is the church, giving them to
understand, that their greatest elevation should consist in low-
liness, and that " the greatest among them should be as the least."
Luke xxiL Upon this account it was, that the apostles, following
the divine instructions of that adorable Master, took such great
care, in the exercise of their ministry, to banish from their persons
the slightest suspicion of private interest, convinced that they

ON TRUE AND FALSE PIETY, 325

could not otherwise contribute to the good of souls, and that the
moment people should discover private interest in their apostolical
functions, they would lose all belief in the doctrine they preached,
and would refuse to hear them. Upon this account it was, that
St. Paul, in particular, instructing the Corinthians, made them
notice this characteristic of disinterestedness, which disengaged
him from all human views in the labours of his apostleship. Alas !
my brethren, (says he,) consider our conduct and situation, and
judge if it be a secret thirst of applause, or the vain hope of a tem-
poral fortune, with which we are affected. We announce the faith
to you, and, according to the faith, we are your fathers in Jesus
Christ ; but, according to the world, we are the outcasts of men-
Christians as you are, you enjoy places, aspire to preferment, and
are distinguished in the world by your rank and fortune ; but as
for us, we are nothing : " We are weak, but ye are strong.'*
1 Cor. iv. Your nobility procures you honour and respect, but
we are confounded with the dregs of the people : " Ye are honour-
able, but we are despised." 1 Cor. iv. What have we gained to
this very time ? And, so far as it regards the present life, what have
we procured by all our toil ? You know how it is, and may bear
witness to it : " Even unto this hour, we hunger, and thirst, and
are naked." 1 Cor. iv. We are covered with disgrace, punished
with stripes, sent into banishment, and obliged, like vagrants, to
wander far and near: "We are buffeted, and have no certain
dwelling-place." 1 Cor. iv. In a word, we are treated as the refuse
of men, the scum of the earth, the filth of the world, and the off-
scouring of all things unto this day." 1 Cor. iv. If, however, (con-
cludes the apostle, I say these things, it is not in the view of re-
proaching you with them,, or putting you to confusion, but to show
you that whilst we labour among you, we labour for your good,
and seek nothing by our labours but your good.

Thus spoke the great teacher of the Gentiles, and who can tell
what impression so perfect a disengagement from the tilings of
this world made on the minds of men ? Let us, beloved Chris-
tians, have the same disengagement ; the world will acknowledge
it, will respect it, will blazon it forth as derived from the Father of
lights. But setting aside the judgments of the world, it is this
that will sanctify us in the presence of God. Then shall our
prayers ascend to his throne like a pleasing odour. He will receive

326 ON TRUE AND FALSE PIETY.

our incense, because uncorrupted by any mixture. Happy, there-
fore, the soul that seeks God in the things appertaining to God,
and nothing but God ! Be pleased to remark these words : " that
seeks God, and nothing but God." Such, if I may venture so to
speak, is the twofold seal of true piety. Not to seek God, is a
forgetfulness arising to a degree of contumely ; and how should he
accept of what is not offered him ? To seek something with God
is a petition that offends him. For, you have heard it said a
thousand times, and it is certainly true, that the God whom we
serve, or whom we ought to serve, is a jealous God ; and of a
heart like ours, that is, a heart he hath himself formed, he will
suffer no part to be withheld from him. This he hath declared in
the old and new law. He hath told us himself by the mouth of
his prophet, that he was too great, and our heart too narrow, for
anything else to find room in it along with him : and by the
mouth of his Son, our Lord and Saviour, he hath expressly
informed us, that we cannot serve two masters at once, God and
mammon, private interest and the cause of virtue. And by what
interest ought we, O Lord, to be swayed or influenced, but by the
good fortune of finding you and serving you ? Now by seeking
you, and nothing but you, we shall infallibly find you, and be in a
condition to posssss you eternally. Are you not enough for us ?
What more is requisite to satisfy our desires ? We will, there-
fore, say with the prophet, O Lord, and in the same spirit:
" What have I in heaven but thee ? And what upon the earth
do I desire beside thee ?" Ps. lxxii. What can heaven and earth
afford me more dear to me tlian my God — so dear to me as my
God — nay, dear to me in any wise except my God, or what is
included in my God ? " What do I desire beside ?" Yes, O Lord,
you shall be henceforward my whole treasure, and my whole glory.
Then, beloved Christians, there will only remain for us to make our
piety internal, whereas that of the Pharisees consisted wholly in
outward appearance, which is the subject of the third and last part.
Part III. The fathers of the church have often started this
difficulty : why God, who judges every individual at the instant of
death, should judge them again at the end of the world. Among
the various reasons they assign for it, none appears to me
more solid than that of St. Gregory of Nazianzen. God (says
he) will act in this manner, in order to make known to the whole

ON TRUE AND FALSE PIETY. 327

universe, by a general judgment, what was the life and conduct
of each particular man. At present the greatest part of men
appear differently from what they arc. The righteous, through
humility, oftentimes assume the guise of sinners ; and sinners
through hypocrisy, as often counterfeit the piety of the righteous.
For this reason, the righteous arc condemned on a thousand
occasions, and sinners are cleared from imputed guilt, and patron-
ized. Now is it not the will of God to put a stop to this irregu-
larity ? and upon this account it is, that God hath preordained a
general judgment, by which all the most hidden secrets of the
heart will be revealed, and by which we shall acquire a perfect
knowledge of vice and virtue. " Son of man," says the Lord to
Ezechiel, " dost thou think thou seest what they do ?" Ezech. viii.
Art thou capable to find out the deeds of my people, and to know
what the nature of those deeds is ? No, thou knowest nothing of
them, because thou seest no more of them than the external
appearance : " Dig in the wall, go in, and behold the wicked
abominations that they do." Ezech. viii. To thee it seems as if
those people honoured me, because they place themselves before
my altar in an humble posture, and offer me sacrifices ; but I tell
thee, I reject all those sacrifices. But, Lord, was it not yourself
that ordered them? Thou art mistaken: my orders were for
sacrifices that originated from piety. Now in all that they do
there is no more than a certain exterior which strikes the eyes. It
would seem, indeed, as if they had some zeal for me, but it is a
vain monster, " an idol of zeal." Ezech. viii.

This, beloved hearers, is the light in which our Saviour himself
represents the false piety of the Pharisees. A superficial piety,
all on the lips, all in the countenance, and nothing in the heart.
For this reason, our Saviour compares them to whited sepulchres.
Mind only the outside, and they are perfectly beautiful ; but open
them, and search them narrowly to the bottom, and you will find
nothing but infection and rottenness: "Wo unto you, because
you are like unto whited sepulchres." Matt, xxiii. But, St.
Chrysostom asks, why this comparison ? It is very natural and
very apposite, (replies this father,) because not to be holy but to
outward appearance, is no more than, as I may say, a carcase of
piety, a body without a soul, only fit to be shut up in a tomb. In
reality, what doth God expect from man but the heart ? And
without the heart, what is there in man worthy of God ? It is,

328 ON TRUE AND FALSE PIETY.

therefore, in the heart tha# the life of the righteous man consists,
as it is by the heart that he pleases God, that he loves God, and
that he deserves the love and favour of God. Take away from
him this love of the heart, and all is dead in the order of grace, as
all is dead in the order of nature, so soon as the heart ceases to live.

Hence it is that Almighty God, complaining by his prophets of
the infidelity of the Jews, reduceth his reproaches to these or the
like usual terms : that their hearts are far from him ; that they
have turned their hearts away from him ; that their hearts are
hardened against him : " Hearken unto me, ye hard hearted."
Isa. xlvi. Hence it is that the royal psalmist, describing a good
man and a sinner, makes this essential difference between them,
namely, that the good man hath an upright heart ; that he labours
in the service of God from his heart; that "he carries the law of
God in his heart ;" (Ps. xxxvi. ;) but that the sinner, on the con-
trary, hath a vain heart, a corrupted heart ; that in his heart he
rebels against God ; that " he says in his heart, there is no
God." Ps. xiii. Hence it is that the same prophet, in the prayers
so frequent and so ardent, which he put up to God, sometimes
would say to him : prove my heart, O Lord, prove my heart ;
sometimes would entreat him to give him a new heart, a pure
heart ; sometimes would excite himself to praise and bless him with
his whole heart ; sometimes would express the whole disposition of
his soul by calling him the God of his heart. I should be obliged
to run through all the Scriptures, did I take upon me to set forth
everything they contain to the commendation of this inward piety,
this piety of the heart.

But, beloved Christians, if this affection of the heart was requi-
site to true piety in the old law, how much more so in the evan-
gelical law, since Jesus Christ himself came down from heaven
particularly to form true adorers in spirit upon earth ? And it
ought to be remembered, that he styles such only true adorers ;
"The hour cometh," says he, "and now it is, when the true
adorers shall adore the Father in spirit and in truth." John iv.
Whence it follows, that all others are false adorers ; and that all
worship, whatever it be, that is not joined to this worship of the
mind, that doth not flow from this worship of the mind, that is
not dignified by this worship of the mind, is a false worship. I
would not, however, insinuate that this external worship is cri-
minal in itself; neither do I say that it is absolutely unprofitable,

ON TRUE AND FALSE PIETY* 329

nor that it should or can be lawfully neglected. I know there
are prayers, ceremonies, and practices, instituted in religion, to
glorify God, by which, in fact, God accounts himself glorified, and
by which he requires that we give him glory. But I hold that
God doth not esteem himself in any sort honoured by all this, any
farther than the spirit bears a part therein ; and that without this
internal view, this conversion of the spirit toward him, he accepts
nothing of all this, because in all this there is nothing proportioned
to his Being and to his greatness. For, (according to the excellent
reason which our Saviour himself hath given,) " God is a Spirit,
and (by consequence) they that worship him, must worship him
in spirit and in truth." John iv. And by another consequence,
equally incontestable, not to pay him this worship in spirit, what-
ever we may otherwise deem of it, is not to honour him in truth,
but in figure only. Now, the God of heaven cannot be content
with this seeming worship; and being truly God, "they that
worship him, must [necessarily] worship him in spirit and in
truth."

If this be the case, beloved hearers, what must we think of many
works which we see performed in the Christian religion, and what
fruit can we suppose to be drawn from them ? Of what merit or
value can they be in the presence of God ? I say nothing of
works done through ostentation, or from interested views ; if any
reward for such can be hoped for, it is not from God, who con-
demns them as criminal. I speak of works done without intention,
without recollection or reflection, out of custom or complaisance,
entirely void of the Spirit of God. This is an abuse, if not uni-
versal, at least general, even in professions the most holy. Mind
this, I beseech you. We recite offices, and formularies of devotion,
composed of and filled with the most beautiful sentiments of faith,
of hope, of the love of God, of confidence in God, of submission to
the will and order of God. But after spending whole hours in this
manner, perhaps we have not made one act either of faith, or of
hope, or of love, or of confidence, or of submission. The reason
is, that in whatever the lips pronounced, the heart had no share.
We appear before the altar, we bend the knee, we remain in
an humble and suppliant posture ; and during, perhaps, the whole
time we spend in this manner, we render not the least homage to
God ; perhaps we do not once acquit ourselves of the duty of reli-
gion towards this Sovereign Master, by paying him adoration. The

330 ON TRUE AND FALSE PIETY*

reason is, that religion consists not either in bowing the head, or
in a composed countenance, but in humility of mind ; and that
the mind hath not accompanied, one moment, all these demon-
strations of respect and adoration. We go into hospitals, we visit
prisons, we comfort the afflicted, we assist the poor ; and, perhaps,
he who in this respect shows the most zeal and assiduity, performs
not one of the works of mercy. The reason is, that he is impelled
either by a certain natural activity, or affected by a compassion
quite human, or led on by custom, or drawn and influenced by
somo other object than God, and of which lie follows the im-
pression.

A great and important lesson this for us ministers of Christ
Jesus. Allow me to make this observation. I shall do it more
for my own confusion, than for your instruction. Called to the
ministry, and particularly devoted to the worship and service of
Almighty God, in how many pious and religious services are we
every day taken up ! Our whole life is nothing but a round of
sacred functions, that succeed one another by rotation, and almost
without interruption. We sing the praises of the Almighty Lord,
some in public, and others in private. We offer on the altar the
unbloody sacrifice of the Immaculate Lamb. We publish the doc-
trines of Christ in the pulpit, and explain them to the people. We
reconcile sinners to God at the sacred tribunal of penance, and serve
them as guides in the way of salvation. We are, by our station,
interpreters of God, agents, vicegerents, and men of God. What
an honour, my brethren, and above all what holiness in such a voca-
tion and ministration ! And yet there is more than enough to
humble us and make us tremble. For there is but too much room
to fear, that this holiness is not in the ministers, but in the
ministry. By familiarizing ourselves (if I may so speak) with holy
things, we become accustomed to them, and often in such a manner
as to lose the whole relish and spirit of them. The heart is no
longer affected with them ; and while the common people are feel-
ingly moved by our adorable mysteries, we treat them with as
much indifference and coolness as profane matters.

This lesson is not less necessary for great numbers of devout per-
sons, or at least persons who bear that name and reputation. They
receive the sacraments ; and so far they are deserving of our praise.
But if they be not extremely watchful, the frequent repetition of
confession and communion becomes a custom ; and custom, by little

ON TRUE AND FALSE PIETY. 331

and little, diminishes the first fervour, and weakens those secret
and holy motions with which they were animated.

What then is the consequence ? They fall into two kinds of
hypocrisy. I say into two kinds ; for they are not, I grant you,
formal hypocrisies, and with full deliberation, but yet they are
extremely pernicious errors — one, with respect to the public ; the
other, with respect to themselves. That is, without intending it,
they deceive the public, and themselves too. Both arc easily under-
stood. They deceive the public, because all this external devotion,
on which they plume themselves, if rightly considered, is nothing
in itself but a sign of the internal devotion of the heart. The
branches, leaves, and flowers, shoot outwardly ; but they suppose
a root hidden and fastened in the bosom of the earth. If, therefore,
you have nothing but the branches, leaves, and flowers ; if you have
only the sign that strikes the eye, and the foundation is wanting,
it is a" deceitful sign, denoting that which is not, and not denoting
that which is. A man passes for a saint : we judge by what
we see ; we extol one, and look upon another as a pattern of virtue.
But what is this virtue but a false light, or specious phantom, that
hath nothing substantial or real in it ? Alas ! brother, (says St.
Chrysostom,) be what you appear to be, or cease to appear to be
what you are not.

But the worst of it is, that they deceive themselves. They
think they lead a truly Christian life, as in fact it seems to be.
They imagine that all the good works they perform are quite meri-
torious in the sight of God, not reflecting that there is no such
thing as a good work which doth not proceed from the same prin-
ciple which ought to produce it, and winch alone can sanctify it.
They willingly hear their own praises ; they receive them with
satisfaction; they would gladly persuade themselves that such
praises are well founded. They dwell upon reflections on their
own conduct, which keeps up the delusion. They say, (like the
bishop in the Kevelation,) I am rich, or at least I labour to enrich
myself, and daily increase my treasure for heaven. What an extra-
vagant blindness ! Instead of the abundance, with the possession
of which you flatter yourself, you cannot discern your poverty and
misery. You vainly imagine that your hands are full, like one
who dreams that he hath found a treasure, but, waking, finds that
he is still in want, and " hath nothing in his hands." Ps. lxxv. If
God himself could be deceived, and his all-seeing eyes Avere unable

y2

332 ON TRUE AND FALSE PIETY.

to penetrate the blaze that surrounds you, you would not be so
much to be pitied. But he sees what it is not in your power to
see. Alas ! Christians, when we shall appear before the bar of this
sovereign Judge, and be called to an account not only for our crimes
and our vicious habits, but even for our virtues, what will he do ?
Will the determination of our eternal lot be regulated by the out-
ward appearance of our actions ? Hath he not told us by his pro-
phets and apostles, that " he will search our souls with the rays of
his light ?" Sophon. i. That he " will lay open our thoughts, our
views, and our designs." 1 Cor. iv. That he " will weigh all
this in the scale of justice, and that whatever shall be under weight
shall be reprobated ?" Dan. v. Many, very many, of these false
prophets shall present themselves before him for the crown of
glory, to which he will make answer; "I profess unto you I
never knew you." Matt. vii. They foretold future events, they
worked miracles, they acquired the esteem, the admiration, and the
confidence of mankind by elaborate discourses, by finished works
on pious subjects, by new institutions and charitable foundations.
They were spoken of in the world, they were the boast of the
people ;-whole provinces, whole kingdoms resounded their praises.
But God will disown them ', because, in all that, the lustre was
equally shining and frivolous ; and, because the day of universal
doom will make it disappear all at once, not leaving the least trace
behind, whereon he will deign to cast an eye.

"Wherefore, my brethren, let us rectify our notions, and let us
follow the advice of the great apostle : " Whatsoever ye do in word
or in deed, do all in the name of the Lord Jesus Christ." Colos.iii
Let us say nothing, let us undertake nothing, let us carry nothing
into execution, but in the name of the Lord Jesus Christ, and with
a view to God. The ark of the Lord was all gold, both within
and without ; and we ought to resemble the ark of the Lord. If,
like the Pharisees, we content ourselves with cleansing the outside
of the vessel, and neglect the rest, we expose ourselves to lie under
the same malediction that they lay under. Let us offer the sacri-
fice of Abel, not of Cain : Abel offered up the very best of his
flock, and Cain the very worst. You know how greatly God was
pleased with the victim of the one, and with what horror he turned
his eyes from that of the other. In like manner, in order to devote
ourselves effectually to God, let us give him, above all things, what

ON SCANDAL. 333

is most excellent and noble in us, which is the understanding. Let
us begin with that, go on with that, and conclude with that ; for
all depends upon the understanding ; and whatever is governed by
the understanding, becomes worthy of God and his eternal rewards.

SEEM ON XVI

ON SCANDAL.

For tlie Second Sunday of Advent.

"Jesus making answer, said to them: Qo, and relate to John
what you have heard and seen. The blind see, the lame toalk, the
deaf hear, the dead rise again : and blessed is the man that shall
not he scandalized in me" Matt. xi.

The Saviour of the world, beloved Christians, after having wrought
such illustrious miracles, had a right to expect that mankind, far
from taking scandal at the precepts of his gospel, would look upon
it as an honour to embrace and follow them. Such numbers of the
deaf, the dumb, the blind, and the lame cured, and of the dead
raised to life; so many other miraculous operations, which so
visibly and irrefragably displayed the virtue and power of a God,
ought to have attracted and commanded the respect and veneration
nay, the worship and adoration of the whole earth. But, oh ! the
depth of the decrees of heaven ! Christ Jesus, nevertheless, is a
scandal to mankind ; a scandal so general, that himself in the o-ospel
declares " the man happy who shall not be scandalized in him."

But what is the world (I mean the profane and impious world)
scandalized at in this God-man ? At his person, at his doctrine
at his law, at his sufferings, at his death ; insomuch that St. Paul
when he mentioned to the faithful the mystery of the cross
called it not the mystery, but the scandal of the cross : " The scan-
dal of the cross is made void." Gal. v. By which mode of speech
he would inculcate to the faithful, that the cross would be a token
of contradiction for the reprobated, which for the predestinated

334 ON SCANDAL.

would be a mystery of redemption ; and that the great scandal of
men, would be the very God that became man to save them.

Such, at that time, was the language of the apostles ; but (praise
be to God) that sort of scandal is now no more. Christ Jesus hath
triumphed over the world and its adherents ; his doctrine is received,
his religion prevails, his cross (according to the expression of St.
Augustin) is an ornament to the brows of sovereigns and monarchs.
But to that kind of scandal of which Christ was the object, another
hath succeeded, of which we are ourselves the authors : another
not less deplorable, and perhaps more criminal. My meaning is
this : Jesus Christ is now to us no occasion of scandal ; but we are
occasion of scandal to Jesus Christ. We are not scandalized at
him, but we give him scandal in the persons of our brethren. As
it, is^ written, that St. Paul, by persecuting the church, persecuted
him : " Saul, Saul, why persecutest thou me?" In like manner,
might he not say to us, why scandalize ye me, by scandalizing
those who appertain to me, and whom I have made the members
of my mystical body ? Now it is this kind of scandal (I mean the
scandal given to our neighbour) that I 6hall make the subject of
the present discourse.

Our blessed Saviour declares the man who shall not be scanda-
lized in him, happy ; but I conclude, by a contrary inference, that
unhappy is the man who scandalizes Christ, by scandalizing his
neighbour. This, Christians, is the important point I undertake
to demonstrate. The sin of scandal, which God detests and con-
demns so loudly iu a thousand places of the inspired writings ; the
sin, with which he so emphatically reproached an unfaithful soul :
".Against thy mother's son thou didst lay a scandal ;" (Ps. xlix. ;)
a trap for his innocence, and occasioned his fall ; and heedless of
the grief which your common mother, the church of Christ, would
feel by liis loss, made no difficulty of giving him scandal ; the
sin, which (according to the doctrine of Tertullian) paves the.way
to crimes, in the same manner that good example doth to virtue.
Of this sin, beloved Christians, I purpose to give you a compre-
hensive, clear, and accurate notion ; I purpose to inspire you with
a horror andjdetestation of it; and with the divine assistance of
the Word of God, I purpose to teach you to fear and shun it. To
that intent, I shall advance two propositions, which shall make
the divisions of this discourse.

First : wo be to the man who causes scandal.

ON SCANDAL. 335

Secondly : wo in the last degree to him, when specially obliged
to give good example.

Wo be to the man who causes scandal. This is the nature of
the sin I shall speak upon ; which, considered absolutely, is univer-
sally diffused through all ranks of people. But wo in the last
degree to him, when it is incumbent on him, in a particular manner,
to give good example. This is the particular species of this sin,
which, although confined to certain states*of life, is, nevertheless,
as you shall see, but too extensive. Wo be to the man, whoever
he be, that is a scandal to his brother, and occasions his fall ; but
wo in the last degree to the man who scandalizes him, when, besides
the reciprocal title of Christian, there is still another more peculiar
and personal, which lays on him an obligation of giving edification.
In the first, I shall lay down for you, on this important subject,
general rules and maxims that will be suitable to all. In the second,
I shall draw, from the difference of your conditions, particular, but
pressing motives, to inspire each of you, upon this head, according
to your different conditions in life, with all the necessary zeal and
vigilance.

Part I. It must needs be that scandals come. It is Christ
himself that says it, and it is one of those mysteries in which the
judgments of God should seem the most impenetrable. For, on
what foundation is this necessity raised ? On none other than the
iniquity of the world, which God is at no loss to convert to his glory,
but the course of which he is not pleased to stop upon all occasions
by the extraordinary means of his absolute power. The world (as
St. Chrysostom, explaining this passage, admirably remarks) being
so perverted as it is, and the Almighty Lord, for reasons known
only to his providential wisdom, letting it remain in the corruption
in which we behold it, and not choosing to work miracles for its
redress, it is a necessary consequence, and "must needs be that
scandals come." Matt, xviii. But however necessary, however
infallible, this consequence be, a dreadful curse against the author
of scandal is pronounced in these words by the Son of God :
" Nevertheless, wo be to that man by whom the scandal cometh."
Matt, xviii. A curse (says St. Chrysostom) which the preachers
of the gospel can neither too often repeat to their audiences, "* nor
depict in colours too striking and lively. Therefore, dear Christians,
lend all your attention, and remember that this is the religious
duty in which it behoves you, perhaps of all, the most particularly

336 ON SCANDAL.

to be well instructed. "Wo to that man by whom the scandal
cometh." The reason is, that he is a murderer, in the sight
of God, of all the souls to whom he gives scandal ; and that he is
answerable to the God of heaven for the crimes of all those to
whom he gives scandal : two reasons, adduced by St. Chrysostom,
and capable to affect the most obdurate heart, in which there
remains the least spark of faith. Give unusual force, O Lord, to
my words ! And you, Christians, be more attentive than ever,
and let nothing escape you of that with which it shall please God
to inspire me for your instruction.

1st. The author of scandal becomes a murderer of every soul he
scandalizes. A monstrous sin, a diabolical sin, a sin against the
Holy Ghost, a sin essentially opposed to the redemption of our
Saviour, Christ ; a sin for which we shall be particularly account-
able before God's tribunal : but what in a manner still more sin-
gula!' deserves your reflection, a sin the more dangerous, as it is
common in the world, as it is every day purposely and maliciously
committed ; as it is annexed to such things as are seemingly trivial,
of which scruple is not made, but which still imports enormous
criminality in the presence of God. Take all this along with you,
and judge yourselves, whether in every particular, and in the
strictest sense, I adhere not to truth.

A monstrous sin : for how horrible is it to be the death of a soul
that was righteous and innocent, pleasing and precious in the sight
of God ! To deprive her of a supernatural and divine life, and
make her lose her inheritance to the kingdom of God ? Now this,
beloved hearers, when you scandalize your neighbour, is the sin
you commit. Were he the meanest of men, whose fall you have
occasioned, whether by diverting him from doing good, or inducing
him to do ill, or communicating to him your wicked inclinations,
or influencing his disposition by your contagious example ; were
he, I say, the meanest, and in every respect the most despicable
of men, you are still culpable. And this is what our Saviour lays
before us in the gospel so clearly and so distinctly, the purport of
which is very extensive : " Whoever shall scandalize one of these
little ones who believe in me." Matt, xviii. It is observable (says
St. Chrysostom) that Jesus Christ says not, whoever scandalizes
a great man. This is a crime of a much deeper die, and more to
be lamented in the Christian world ; a crime, notwithstanding, but
too common among the 'sons of Adam. How many have there

ON SCANDAL. 337

been in all ages, and, at this very time, what numbers there are,
who, by an inscrutable judgment of the Supreme liuler, seem to
approach the great, and to partake of their favour, only to poison
and corrupt their minds with detestable maxims and hellish advice !
Be that as it may, the moral intent of our Lord and Saviour in
the words just quoted, is not restrained to the condition of the
great. He says : " Whosoever scandalize tli one of these little
ones;" and thereby, Christians, rectifies the mistake you may
possibly be in — that the meanness of the person should ever autho-
rize or give colour to sin. True it is, the person you scandalize is
a low-lived creature, a mean creature ; it is an abject soul (accord-
ing to the notions of the world) that is subject to your incontinence.
But this so vile and worthless 'a soul (according to the notions of
the world) is, in the views of God, of infinite value. And there-
fore, the God who created it, who redeemed it, who knew how to
rate it according to its worth, declares, that as often as you give it
scandal, "it were better for you that you were drowned in the
depth of the sea." Matt, xviii.

A diabolical sin : and the reason which St. Chrysostom oives
for it is evident. For (according to the gospel) the distinguishing
characteristic of the devil, is, that "he was a murderer from the
beginning." He was a murderer, (continues this holy doctor),
because, from the beginning of the world, he made souls perish by
seducing them, by putting snares in their way, by making them
yield to temptation, by laying obstacles to their conversion. And
is not this the constant employment of the libertine liver, the
vicious man, the man hurried away by the spirit of impurity, who,
immersed in debauchery, seeks out on all sides (if I may use the
expression) a prey for his sensuality ? What doth he besides, or
in what else is his scandalous life taken up ? Is it not in deceiving
and damning souls, in prevailing over their weakness, in imposing
on their simplicity, in making the most of their imprudence, in
taking the advantage of their vanity, in undermining their religion,
in triumphing over then modesty, in dissipating their just fears, in
rendering ineffectual all their good inclinations ? Is it not in keep-
ing them back from the ways of God, when, touched with his grace,
they feel the weight of then* iniquity, and are sincerely desirous of
recovering their innocence ? Are not these, O sinner, the works
of darkness in which your infamous life is spent ? Is not this doin»
the office of the evil spirit, and the more dangerously, because they

338 ON SCANDAL.

whom you scandalize, being used, like yourself, to be drawn by
the senses, lie open to your baneful insinuations, and take more
lasting and deeper impressions ? The devil was, of himself, a mur-
derer from the beginning ; but is a murderer now, by your agency.
It is you who are his adjutant, who furnish him with weapons,
who carry on his enterprises, who are the tempter in his room, who
murder souls, by scandalously sacrificing them to your passions
and pleasures.

A sin against the Holy Ghost, because directly against charity, and
the Holy Ghost is personally charity itself. Now is this sufficient : I
add, because charity is wounded by it in the most essential part ;
and because in regard to this necessary virtue, of which the Holy
Ghost himself is the origin, it, if I may so speak, renders a man
criminal against the supreme Being. For, (as St. Chrysostom
judiciously argues,) if by theft or fraud you deprive your neighbour
of temporal effects ; if by calumny or slander you destroy his repu-
tation ; if by ill offices you ruin his credit, which ends but in the
loss of a perishable fortune ; if, according to all the rules of religion,
these are so many transgressions against the charity he hath
a right to expect from you : what shall I say of the scandal that
stops his progress in virtue, and obstructs his salvation ? No, no :
so flagitious a disposition and brotherly love never abode together
in the same heart : " He that loveth his brother, abideth in the
light, and scandal in him there is none." 1 John ii. And, indeed,
there needs charity but in a moderate degree, to beware of bring-
ing him, by giving him scandal, into infinite detriment. When
God permitted the prince of darkness to wreak his vengeance
on the property and person of the good man Job, he put his
natural and mortal life out of danger : " Behold he is in thy hands,
but yet save his life." Job ii. But might I not say, with still
greater reason, to the scandalous sinner : if your brother hath the
misfortune to offend you, and to incur your indignation, and is the
object of your hatred, carry your injustice to what length you
please, but carry not your vengeance to the depriving him of a
spiritual and immortal life. Give a thousand vexations, bring him
into trouble, fill him with uneasiness, raise persecutions against
him ; but spare at least his soul, make no base attempt on his con-
science and salvation ; but yet save his spiritual and immortal life.
It follows, therefore, necessarily, that whoever makes light of
scandalizing his brother, is devoid of charity, and by consequence,

ON SCANDAL. ;33U

before God, is the destruction of his brother and of charity too ;
for " every one that hateth his brother is a murderer." 1 John iii.
Now, how many doth the present age exhibit in this category ?
That is, how many are hurried away by the spirit of libertinism ;
and, far from being disturbed at the loss of souls, affect to contri-
bute to it with all their might, 6eek occasions and opportunities,
and feel self-complacency at having succeeded ? Can any crime
be more atrocious against the heavenly Spirit and his holy grace ?

I proceed farther, and say : a sin essentially opposed to the
redemption of Jesus Christ. For, whereas Jesus Christ, who is
styled, and is eminently, the Son of man, came into the world, as
Redeemer of men, to seek and save that which had been lost ;
(Luke xix. ;) so the son of perdition, (and such, says Tertullian, is
the giver of scandal,) with a contrary view, comes to damn and to
ruin that which he hath ransomed. And it is in this particularly
that the apostle makes the grievousness of scandal to consist. On
this was grounded that pathetic remonstrance which he made to the
Corinthians, conjuring them to leave off certain customs, to which
they were addicted, and at which the brethren, not yet thoroughly
confirmed in the faith, were scandalized. There are weak brethren
among you, (says he,) and you assume liberties which occasion
their fall. But know you not, that these brethren, whom your
conduct scandalizes, are numbered among the faithful, are true
believers, for whom the blessed Jesus shed his precious blood, and
that the scandal you give them, and the ruin you bring on them,
by your bad example, destroy, in their persons, the merit and
fruit of the death of a God ? Shall then Jesus Christ (continues
the apostle) have suffered and died for them to no purpose?
Shall your brother, as yet weak, be eternally damned, because
you thought it proper to disregard his weakness, and not have the
consideration for him which Christian charity and prudence
required ? Shall that be torn, as it were, by violence, from the
bosom of Jesus Christ, for which he poured forth every drop of
his blood ? " And so through thy knowledge shall the weak
brother perish for whom Christ died." 2 Cor. viii.

Thus spoke St. Paul ; and his manner of reasoning was suffi-
ciently convictive. The pious zeal with which the Corinthians were
animated and inflamed for their Lord and Saviour, induced them
to return within proper bounds, and not draw upon themselves the
just reproach of being enemies to lus cross, by contributing to make

340 ON SCANDAL.

" the weak brother perish for whom Christ died." How often, by
criminal liberties, which you ought to have abandoned, have you
wounded consciences, and been the death of souls, for which your
divine Saviour laid down his life ! And if what St. John says in his
first Canonical Epistle, be true, that " throughout the world there
are many antichrists ;" (1 John ii. ;) because it is overrun with
unworthy Christians, who destroy and bring to naught, by their
scandalous example, the work of Jesus Christ, and invalidate the
price of his adorable redemption : of those who hear me, to how
many is not, in the literal sense, this malediction of the apostle
applicable : " Now there are many antichrists !" How many anti-
christs are there lurking in the heart of Christianity, the more to
be dreaded, the more hidden and the less known they are !

A sin, therefore, for which we shall be accountable in a parti-
cular manner at the bar of heaven. For of all the menaces
which I find in the scripture, one of the most terrible and emphatic
is, that God Almighty will call us to a severe account, not only
for our own, but our neighbour's sins • "I will require his blood
from thy hands." Ezech. iii. But am I answerable for any but
myself? said the guilty Cain, endeavouring to clear himself in the
presence of God. " Am I my brother's keeper?" A maimer of
speaking not unusual at this day with worldlings. Am I engaged,
am I responsible for the salvation of another ? Yes, (replies the
Lord, by the mouth of his prophet,) you are responsible for it to
me ; and when I shall come, as sovereign Judge, in order to give to
each one according to his deserts, and pronounce my last decrees,
I shall evidently have a right, by the laws of equity, to be revenged
of you for innumerable grievous crimes, of which you were the
promoter and original cause. For, your brother perished by your
solicitations ; the purity of his soul* was tarnished and defiled by
your conversation; his mind was corrupted by the errors and
maxims of your licentiousness ; his heart was poisoned by the
attractions and charms of your dissolute life. It is owing to you
that he first conceived a disgust of his duty ; your satirical merri-
ment and irreligious sarcasms induced him to withdraw himself
from the divine law, and totally swerve from Christian observances.
If he is engaged in evil ways, it proceeds from the connexions he
hath had with you ; if he is swayed by his passions, it proceeds
from his glorying in being your imitator ; if he hath contracted
your vices, it proceeds from a desire of giving you pleasure. This

ON SCANDAL. 341

(says the Almighty in the fulness of his wrath) is what will be
imputed to you, and I will punish with the utmost severity. It
was by your means that this man became impious ; influenced by
your example, he led a wicked life, and died in his wickedness ;
but his blood, will louder than that of Abel, cry out to my throne,
and will pressingly call upon me for justice against you. And
what will be your plea? " The same wicked man shall die in his
iniquity, but I will require his blood from thy hand." Ezech. iii.
I will undertake, O wicked sinner, I will undertake, to thy cost,
the cause of this soul, this reprobated soul, which thou hast
destroyed ; and reprobated as it is, I shall still be concerned for it,
and will retort its reprobation on thy devoted head. 1

Enough, beloved Christians, have I said to make you compre-
hend the grievousness of this sin. But not to insist any longer
thereon, 1 shall now set forth the strongest inducement to watch its
approaches, and the best and safest rule we can follow in order to
guard against it. A sin, of which we are often guilty without
intending to commit it. I wish I were so happy as to make you
comprehend this important verity, and so far to prevail on you, as
that each one should apply this lesson to himself! For we may
scandalize souls without forming deliberately a design to damn
them, or having a determinate will to make our neighbour fall.
The devil only is capable of such maliciousness ; and none (says
St. Chrysostom) but the devil, can love the scandal for the scan-
dal's sake. It is not requisite that I have an express will to ruin
my brother : it is enough that I perceive I ruin him effectually ;
that my conduct, of itself, hath a tendency to ruin him ; and that
I perform some action, in consequence of which he will undoubtedly
be ruined. But I would not that he were ruined. True : but to
will that he be not ruined, and to will, at the same time, that
which ruins him outright, (replies St. Chrysostom,) are two con-
tradictory wills ; and the worst of it is, that of these two wills the

one good, the other bad ; the former by which you wish that your
brother may not be ruined, is but a half will, an imperfect will,
an unavailing will — one of those velleities with which hell abounds,
and which effectually lead us to damnation ; whereas the latter,
whereby you wish that which is the origin of his ruin, is an effica-
cious will, an absolute will, a consummate will, a will carried into
execution, which communicates perversion, and causes damnation.

Thus a woman of the world, filled with airy notions, and no

342 ON SCANDAL.

way actuated by the Spirit of God, is engaged in reciprocal visits
and conversations, which, however dangerous, she will not inter-
rupt, nevertheless, bears witness to her own innocence, and that
she never entertained any criminal intention. She sees, notwith-
standing, that by this communication she inflames the passions of
a sensual man ; that she excites in his heart irregular desires ; that
she takes him off from the way of salvation ; that she encourages,
not a little, his idle cajolery ; and that by not discountenancing his
frequent attendance, without a will to ruin him, she ruins him
effectually. Is she, therefore, the less a murderer of his soul ?
No, Christian ; the scandal she gives is a grievous sin. Her real
intention, by this intercourse, is to indulge her vanity. But setting
aside her real intention, her vanity kindles and nourishes, in the
breast of this young man, immodest affections. For that respect
which he pays to her person she terms complaisance, which she
terms civility, and she is fully determined to stop there. But her
resolution cannot hinder the effect of her complaisance from going
still farther, and from bringing, in spite of her, destruction on him
whose affections she means to preserve, and no more, and to
renounce whom she hath not sufficient fortitude of mind.

Upon that account I said — (and oh ! that you would turn the daily
experience you have of it to advantage) — upon that account I said,
and I say it again, that this murdering of souls was often a conco-
mitant to trivial matters in the eyes of the world, but an utter
abomination, if maturely considered, in the presence of God ; a
concomitant to looseness of attire, to luxury of decoration, to
undisguised allurements, to the tyranny of the mode which the
prince of the world, that is, the devil of the flesh, hath invented ;
to levity and privacy, wherein the bounds of decorum are passed
without difficulty; to particular conversations, the secrecy, the
familiarity, the agreeableness of which effeminates the strong, and
infatuates the sage ; to an irregular and too free a vein of humour ;
to a passion to please and pass for agreeable. But all this, say
you, is innocent. What ! (replies St. Jerom) do you call that
innocent, which so deeply wounds your neighbour's soul ? And
though, as you apprehend, (the inconsistency of which Almighty
God will make known,) all this were perfectly innocent in itself,
when you find its consequences to be so deplorable, ought you not
to reject it with detestation and horror ?

Did St. Paul reason thus, and are these the principles and

OH SCANDAL. 343

moral documents he hath left in the church ? No, no, (says this
apostolical man,) that I shall never suppose allowable, which I
foresee, and which I know, cannot but be detrimental to my
brother's soul. He discoursed of the flesh of animals offered up in
sacrifice to idols ; flesh not contaminated in itself, but which, on
the contrary, might be eaten indifferently by those of the faithful
who had upright consciences, that is, who had no propensity to
idolatrous worship, and made a sincere profession of believing only
in the living God. It matters not, (says this vessel of election,
this man raised by God to instruct us in our duty and improve our
morals,) if the meat which I eat should scandalize my brother,
though the use of it be forbidden by no other law, I will condemn
myself to forbearance by the law of charity: " If meat scandalize
my brother, I will never eat flesh." 1 Cor. viii. Are you then,
beloved Christians, more privileged than St. Paul was ? Are you
not equally bound by the law of charity ? Are you allowed to
plead exemption from it more than he was ? And if this great
apostle, giving up his right, thought it incumbent on liim to
abstain from flesh, though not prohibited, but which he appre-
hended might give rise to scandal, with what face can you affirm,
in the presence of God, that a hundred things are matters of indif-
ference, of which you well know the pernicious effects, having
learned by experience how prejudicial they are to those who
approach you ? No, (we ought to say with the apostle of Christ, a
truly Christian soul,) if these practices, these customs, which the
world authorizes, and which gratify my self-love, are a cause of
scandal, whatever my reason may allege to the contrary in their
behalf, I am determined to relinquish them; be they ever so
innocent, to outward appearance, I abhor, I detest, I renounce them
for ever : " If meat scandalize my brother, 1 will never eat flesh."
2ndly. Thus you must speak, thus you must reason, if you speak
and reason from principles of religion. Otherwise — (and it is, as
I at first observed, the second misfortune of him that gives scandal)
— otherwise, beloved hearers, you are answerable in the presence
both of God and man, not only for the particular crime you com-
mit, by scandalizing your brother, but in general for all the crimes
which he whom you scandalize commits, or shall commit. Now,
who can fathom and measure the depth of this abyss ? Or, to use
an expression of the divine Spirit, how " deep calleth on deep!"
Who can number them up ? And who but yourself, O God,

344 ON SCANDAL,

" that beholdest the depths," is capable to comprehend them ? Of
how many sins may not, for instance, bad advice be productive ?
Violent and unjust advice, given to a man in power and authority,
which induces him to gratify his vengeance or ambition, what
mischiefs it produces ! What disturbances arise from it ! What
a multiplicity and variety of sins it brings after it ! You are too
knowing not to see the consequences, and have too much sensibi-
lity not to shudder at them. Now faith informs us, that whoever
is the author of such advice, participates, the very moment he
gives it, without other participation than merely the giving of it,
in the whole guilt of those misfortunes ; and, whether he will or
not, is responsible for all the injustices of him who follows it, and
carries it into execution. How incomparable are the judgments of
our heavenly Lord ! How the sons of men must be delivered over
to excessive folly and a reprobate sense, when they forget such
great and terrible truths !

But sins, you say, are personal ; and although Almighty God
be strict in his judgments, he is merciful, and desirous to dispel
our fears, when he tells us by his prophet: " The soul that sin-
neth, the same shall die." Ezech. x. By which he would teach
us, that each one will be answerable for his own sins ; that " the
son shall not bear the iniquity of the father, and the father shall
not bear the iniquity of the son ;" (Ezech. x. ;) that when we shall
appear before the sovereign tribunal, " every one shall bear his own
burden," (Gal. vi. ;) and not that of another. I join issue with
you ; for all these I know to be so many oracles, set down faith-
fully in the inspired writings, which, according to the ordinary
course of justice, will be verified with regard to sins of every kind,
save the sin of scandal. The reason is this : the sin of scandal is
not merely personal, but an original sin, in some degree, that insi-
nuates and spreads itself through the soul of man, infecting her not
only with its own venom, and its own malignity, but likewise with
the venom and malignity of those to whom it extends. The scan-
dalous sinner will, therefore, be excepted from these general rules,
who, perpetrating crimes for himself and for others, will be
arraigned for his own, and for the crimes of others, at the supreme
bar. The reason of it is natural : for if, according to the law of
God, he who sins must die ; with much greater reason (says St.
Chrysostom) should he die, who causes sin, who incites sin, who
advises sin, who teaches sin, who sets example of sin ; all this, in

ON SCANDAL. 345

which scandal consists, being indisputably more punishable, and
more deserving of death than the sin itself. Therefore, it is true,
that each one will be made to bear his own burden. But as to you,
sinner, who have occasioned scandal, besides your own burden, you
will be forced to undergo that of others too. And although such
persons, whose iniquity you shall bear, will thereby be neither dis-
encumbered nor justified ; it is this foreign burden, this iniquity
of others, that will finally overwhelm you.

And if it be urged that these sins were not known : known, or
not known, (replies St. Jerom,) as they derived their origin from
your sin, by an inevitable fatality they are laid to your charge.
You knew not the irregularities of those you scandalized ; but
though you knew them not, you are not to be looked upon the less
for that, as the original cause. You knew them not ; but you
ought to have known them, you ought to have dreaded them, you
ought to have prevented them, and this you have neglected ; and
all this makes you liable to be punished according to the whole
extent of their malignity.

For this reason, the most holy of kings, in the fervour of his
penitence, beseeched the Almighty to grant him special grace
against two kinds of sin, the consequences of which he appre-
hended to be endless ; hidden sins, and the sins of others : sins
which he himself unknowingly committed, and sins which he
occasioned others to commit, but never imputed to himself as a
fault : " Who can understand sins ? From secret ones cleanse
me, O Lord, and from those of others spare thy servant." Where
is the man who knows all his failings, who endeavours to find them
out, who, to lament and expiate them, hath the gift of discern-
ing them ? " Who can understand sins ?** Purify, therefore,
(adds he,) O God, purify me from those sins which my pride con-
ceals from me, which by worldly dissipation I am hindered from
discerning, which the cloud of my passions, or the veil of my igno-
rance, impedes the sight of: " From my secret ones cleanse me."
But, at the same time, pardon me the sins of my neighbour, for
which I am responsible ; sins, to which I have unfortunately
co-operated ; sins, of which my conduct hath been the pernicious
source ; sins, with which you will one day reproach me, and which
will complete, in conjunction with my own, the heavy burden that
increases daily, and under which I shall, perhaps, ere long, be
oppressed. Pardon me them, O Lord, and grant that I may pre-

346 ON SCANDAL.

vent, by means of exact and severe penance, the rigour of your
judgment, " and from the sins of others spare thy servant."

A most holy prayer this, which the Spirit of God suggested to
David, and the use of which, I doubt not, would be necessary for
the greatest part of those who hear me. A prayer, which the
woman of the world should put up to heaven every day of her life,
in the spirit of compunction. And let it be remembered, that
when I speak of a woman of the world, I mean not a woman
devoid of religion, or even a vicious woman who leads a disorderly
and libertine life. I speak of a woman, who, "content with a spe-
cious regularity that dazzles, is far from a willingness to be under
constraint, or submitting to walk in the straight way that leads to
God. I speak of a woman, who, though she rates herself high for
her faultless demeanour in essential points, nevertheless, by a thou-
sand insinuating ways, and a studied vivacity, is a scandal to souls.
I speak of a woman, who, without passion and without attachment,
is oftentimes equally criminal with those who are passionately
attached ; and who, notwithstanding her apparent reputation of
which she is so jealous, and of which she takes so great care as to
escape censure, and the imputations consequent to the weaknesses
of her sex, is not the less for that, on account of the sins she so
often foments, an enemy to God. A prayer, from which would
arise her conversion, if after the example of the inspired king, she
said every day : " From the sins of others spare thy servant."
Pardon me, O Lord, such a number of sins, of which I unreason-
ably believed myself clear in thy divine sight, and in which, blinded
by self-love, I was made to believe I bore no part, but the weight
of which now lies heavy upon me. Pardon me all those sins, all
those desires, all those sensations, which are owing to my orna-
mental attire, to my insinuating conversation, to my eno-aoino-
manner, though attended with a modesty that inspired me rather
with a profane haughtiness, than Christian circumspection :
" From the sins of others spare thy servant." But, O my Lord,
what though in your goodness you should pardon my offences, can
I pardon myself? Can I set bounds to my penitence, considering
the obligation I am under of satisfying not only for myself, but for
those sinners also, who, by my contrivances, were induced to enter
upon sinfid practices ? " Who can understand sin ? From my secret
ones cleanse me, O Lord, and from those of others spare thy servant."

True it is, ye women of the world, this kind of language is not

ON SCANDAL. 347

usual with you. But God, the ruler of the human heart, may
give, when he pleases, a blessing to my words. I know that the
reformation of a scandalous sinner, in respect to salvation, is a great
miracle ; but the arm of the Lord is no way shortened. Let us
hope for all things by the grace of Jesus Christ. It is more
forcible than the whole world. How exuberant soever may be the
iniquity of mankind, it will be no impediment to the designs of
God. Some there are in this audience, who will persist in their
scandal, refusing assent to these assertions ; and others, though
convinced of what I advance, will be too remiss to relinquish their
habits. Among these hardened souls, however, there are whom
God hath predestined ; and possibly, at the moment I utter these
words, he perceives some one, who, effectually persuaded of the
truth I announce, is already resolved to retrench in his apparel, in
his conduct, in his comportment, in his diversions, in his conver-
sations, in his actions, whatever may be contrary, in any shape, to
the purity of his religion, and the edification of his neighbour.
Though I were to bring over only one to God, should I not thereby
be sufficiently happy ? Be that as it will, beloved hearers, these
are documents laid down in the gospel, which we are bound to
know, being one of the most formal and express articles of the
faith we profess. Every scandalous sinner is a murderer of the
souls to which he gives scandal, and is answerable to God for the
crimes they commit. But if scandal, considered absolutely, and
in itself, be so great an evil, what shall I say of that sort of scandal,
which the same man gives, whose duty it is, in a special manner,
to give good example ? Wo be to the man who is the author of
scandal ; but wo be to him over and over again, when particularly
bound to give edification.

Part II. Every man living by the common law of charity, is
under an obligation of edifying his neighbour. And when St.
Paul laid doivn as a rule for the Romans this great maxim : " Let
every one of you please his own neighbour for his good to edifica-
tion," (Bom. xv.,) it is evident that he spoke in general terms, not
excepting condition, rank, or person. It must, however, be
granted, that there are, on this head, particular engagements, and
particular duties ; and that, according to the different relations in
which men may be considered throughout the community, and to
their different connexions with one another, it is more incumbent
on some, than on others, to comply with this law. In the course

z2

348 ON SCANDAL.

of nature, a father, as such, is bound to give good example to his
children. By the decrees of Providence, a master, or whoever is
vested with power, is bound to edify, by his conduct and morals,
all those who live in subjection to him, In the order of grace, the
priests and ministers who attend the altar, are bound, agreeably
to St. Peter's position, to be a model and rule to the flock of
Christ, by the holiness of their lives : " Being made a pattern of
the flock from the heart." 1 Pet. v. According to the doctrine
delivered by St. Paul, those who are devoted, in a special manner,
to the service of God, should particularly be careful to be sin-
cere in their piety, and even, if possible, without reproach, in
order to shut the mouths of impious men, or bring them over to
God ; at least, not to scandalize them or obstruct their return to
the way of salvation. The stedfast in the faith, I mean Catholics,
should live among their brethren who are disunited from them,
with more attention, vigilance, and caution. And these assertions
are all founded on the most solid and incontestable principles
of Christianity.

If, therefore, in contravention to these duties, the scandal should
proceed from the same source, from which ought to flow good and
edifying example ; or, to speak more clearly, if the very person,
who, by God's appointment, is under a special obligation of giving
edification to his neighbour, should be the first to scandalize him ;
ah ! Christians, this is what completes the malediction of our
Saviour, and should make us cry out in the bitterness of our soul :
"Wo be to that man!" because (says St. Chrysostom) then the
scandal is more contagious, and makes a deeper and more lasting
impression on the soul ; because then it is more difficult to guard
against its influence ; because then impiety takes greater advantage,
and licentiousness and looseness of manners draw a more specious
pretext, not only from possession, but from prescription. Be
pleased to give ear to this second point of doctrine, in laying which
before you, I shall entirely confine myself to those particular kinds
of scandal which have just been mentioned.

1st. How great, beloved hearers, is the crime of a father, who,
in disparagement to the name of Christian which he bears, and
utterly unworthy to be called a father, by his bad example, scan-
dalizes and corrupts his own children ? It was his duty to bring
them up in the exercise of religion ; but, far from that, by his

ON SCANDAL. 349

impious discourses, by his jesting imprudently at our sacred
mysteries, by his hatred and aversion to all holy things, by his
affected opposition to whatever is denominated work of piety ; in a
word, by liis impious unchristian life, he instils into them his spirit
of libertinism, and principles destructive of all religion. It was
his duty to correct the precipitancy of their temper, and repress
the sallies of their growing passions ; but he encourages them by a
more shameful precipitancy of temper, and by sallies of passion
more extravagant and senseless. It was his duty to provide for
then' improvement in virtue ; but by his debauchery and excesses,
excesses of which they are but too well apprised, excesses which
he is not at the pains to conceal, they are hurried and misled into
strange irregularities and depravity of manners* How many
fathers in the Christian world, how many, perhaps, of those who
hear me, are in this predicament ? They are not content to be
libertines themselves, they raise up in their children, by the
education they give them, a generation of libertines. Their
authority over them is exerted only to effect their ruin. They
are their fathers only to transmit to them their vices, to inspire
them with their ambition, to make them drink in with their milk
the ranklings of their enmities, to entangle them in their injustices
by making them inheritors of their ill-acquired fortunes. Were it
not better (as St. Chrysostom observes) they had been stifled in
their cradles ? And if we reflect with horror and astonishment on
the barbarous superstitition of those infidels, who were used to
immolate their children to their idols ; do they not stir up in us
the same feelings, who, in direct contempt of the true God, to
whom they well know their children have been consecrated in the
saving laver, inhumanly sacrifice them to the spirit of the world,
that evil sprit with which they are themselves possessed. Such,
for the same reason, is the inordination of a mother, who by all
laws is under an obligation of bringing up her daughters, servants
of God, and spouses of Jesus Christ, but is so very blind, or to
speak more properly, and allow me the expression, is so very cruel,
as to make them slaves of Satan, and victims to vanity, teaching
them the science of eternal damnation, on pretence of giving them
a knowledge of the world, and destroying, by her example, all the
lessons of virtue, which, in other respects, she is so well qualified
to give them by words. For, notwithstanding the scandal she gives
her own children, she expects they will listen with patience and sub-

350

ON SCANDAL.

mission to her admonitions and instructions. Whatever degree of
liberty she assumes, whatever communication, whether suspected
or undisguised, she is said to carry on, she perpetually preaches
regularity to her daughters, and requires that they behave with
circumspection and decency, with tractability and docility, while
she takes, herself, the greatest latitudes, and will not comply with
the most essential duties. But in this consists that species of
scandal which I now encounter. For how can this zeal, though
maternal, avail, when not supported, when frustrated, or, rather,
when destroyed and annihilated, by her own example ? What
good effect can the remonstrances of a mother, whose reputation
is blasted, have on the mind and conduct of a daughter, whose
notions are far from the simplicity of the dove, and who, probably
enough, by having -seen too much, is become as clear-sighted and
penetrating as the serpent.

2ndly. How great is the crime of a master of a family, who,
forgetful of what he is, or abusing his power, and perverting the
order of divine Providence, misleads and corrupts those whom it is
his duty to inspect and direct ? St. Paul has given us the dictate
of the Holy Ghost upon this matter: " If any man take not care
of his own, and especially those of his own house, he hath denied
the faith, and is worse than an infidel." 1 Tim. viii. A short sentence
this, but full of energy ; a sentence, from which I should expect
more, towards the reformation of your lives, and the sanctification
of your souls, than from ever so many and such eloquent sermons,
if you would, beloved hearers, but revolve it in your minds, and
meditate upon it with due attention. But if St. Paul spoke thus
of unattentive and careless, how would he have spoken of scanda-
lous masters? If he calls mere negligence, or mere forge tfulness,
in that which a master, as a Christian, owes his own family,
apostacy, how would he have called the man, who, far from
watching over, and being concerned for the salvation of those
for whom, as master, he is responsible to God, perverts them
himself, and is the immediate cause of their ruin and reprobation ?

This, nevertheless, we every day see, and see to our grief and
heart-felt anguish. For, that servant man, O man of the world,
(suffer me a moment to indulge the zeal with which God inspires
me, and which obliges me to be plain,) that servant man who hath
your interest at heart, and is no way apprehensive for the loss of
his soul, provided that by pleasing you he make a wretched for-

ON SCANDAL. 361

tunc ; that servant man must be the instrument and accomplice of
your iniquitous practices, when you employ him in offices, which
the respect I owe to the present audience, and the pulpit I speak
in, forbids me to represent in their native colours, and real defor-
mity. An abominable scandal, against which I might cry out a
thousand times, " Wo be to that man," that man of fashion, that
master !

And you, Christian women, (if yet, considering the life you
lead, you pretend to that name,) to you it is owing, that the girl
so innocent, so far from reproach, when she entered your service,
is thoroughly conversant in the things of which she ought to have
been ignorant all the days of her life. She becomes your confidant,
and, against her inclination, is made privy to your intrigues, when
you require of her those vile services in which obedience is her
crime. God, by entrusting her to your care and inspection, made
you the guardian of her innocence, and it is lost by your means.
Your house should have been a school to her of virtue and
integrity, and it is there you teach her to lay aside all modesty.
She was of Christian morals, and a virtuous mind ; and by an
unfortunate engagement of her conscience with yours, her good
inclinations are all checked, and all her principles of virtue
destroyed. What answer will you make to an avenging God,
when he shall produce her, in his judgment, covered over with
your sins : and you shall see her in hell, the inseparable companion
of your endless torments ? Take not offence at the vehemence
with whieh you imagine I speak : perhaps on no occasion was it
ever more necessary.

But to pass over the scandals that go to such lengths as to
make those about you accomplices of your crimes, what dangerous
effects proceed oftentimes, when you think least of it, from your
bare example ? For, to believe that your conduct is to them
unknown, and remains always a secret, is a gross mistake. That
cannot be, beloved Christians ; that never was. As many domestics
as give you attendance, so many witnesses there are of your life ;
and not witnesses only, but censurers and spies, that have their
eyes upon you, and do justice to your merit.

3rdly. How great is the crime of those ministers of the Lord,
who, honoured with the most sacred character of the priesthood,
and employed in the most holy functions of the altar, profane
them by a secular and worldly demeanour, not to say an impure

352 ON SCANDAL.

and licentious life, and reflect disgrace and scandal on their
ministry ? They ought (according to the words of Christ Jesus)
to be the salt of the earth, and it is by their means (says St.
Gregory, pope,) that the earth is corrupted. They ought to be the
light of the whole earth, and they shine forth only to expose to
the world, with greater evidence, those stains and blemishes which
are observed in them, and make the observer blush. They ought
to be, and they are in fact, the town situated on a high mountain,
and they seem raised only to make their vices the more conspi-
cuous ; vices that give the people surprise and uneasiness, and lay
the priesthood open to reproach and ignomy. It was this that
brought upon them the indignation of God, and obliged him to
tell them by one of his prophets, what I should not dare apply to
them, if I copied not from God, and spoke on his behalf, who alone
hath the power to upbraid them in terms so pressing and so strong.
But as I am, myself, of the priestly order, and bear an equal part
and concern with others in the words of the Lord ; as I take them
for a lesson that suits my character, and which I repeat to myself,
I shall not fear to make them hear the voice of the Lord, by
addressing them in the words of the prophet Malachi : " And now,
O ye priests,this commandment is to you." Mai. ii. I placed you in
my church to edify and sanctify her ; to your pastoral care I com-
mitted my flock ; as your lips were the depositories of sacred
knowledge, your works should have been the rule of soimd morals
and true piety. Yet, unfaithful to the strictest and most indis-
pensable obligations, you deviated from the way which I pointed
out to you, and which it was your duty to point out to others.
By straying away voluntarily, you drew many others after you :
" You have departed out of the way, and have caused many to
stumble at the law." Mai. ii. And what is the consequence ?
Ah ! Christians, what I should not dare to think, much less to
declare, if God added not : " Therefore have I made you con-
temptible and base before all the people." Mai. ii. Your scanda-
lous life, or, to speak more accurately, the scandals of your life,
have lessened you in their esteem, and you are become the object
of their reproaches and scoffs.

Is it not thus that so many ministers of the living God literally
undergo the unfortunate destiny of that salt of the earth, with
which Christ compared them ? For, to what use (says our blessed
Saviour) is salt applied, when once corrupted ? It is trodden under

ON SCANDAL. 353

foot : " If salt lose its savour, it is good for nought but to be
trodden on by men." Matt. v. And in truth, by a just punish-
ment of the heavenly Lord, who will not have this evangelical
metaphor to be a fruitless figure, and permits that the prediction
pronounced by Malachi be visibly accomplished, what is there
more contemptible in the whole universe than a scandalous priest ?
Heaven forbid, beloved hearers, that I should pretend, by this, to
justify the contempt with which the churchmen are treated, or
approve of the consequences you draw from their conduct. When
I speak to you of scandals caused by God's ministers, it is not
with a view to bring shame on them, but to give you instruction.
I speak of them with a view to invalidate and hinder the perni-
cious effects of their evil doings, which might prove dangerous
temptations, might disturb your minds, might shake your religion
to the very foundation, and might give to libertinism a handle to
exert his baneful influence. For I know full well what impression
the life of a scandalous ecclesiastic is wont to make on the minds
of men. I know how it helps to harden your hearts, and that
their bad example, or, to speak more properly, your manner of
reasoning on their morals and example, is one great obstacle you
have to surmount in the way of salvation.

And now I shall close this important article with a moral
inference : wo be to you, if you make Jesus Christ not indeed
absolutely in his own person, but in that of his ministers, how
unworthy soever they may be of their ministry, be the rueful
cause of your taking scandal, as even in this sense it is true, that
i < happy is the man who shall not be scandalized in him !" Wo be
to you, if you yield to this scandal, and if you suffer yourselves to
be carried away by it, not guarding against its malignity and
contagion ! The reason of it is evident ; for, the Saviour of the
world, who could foresee all things, and provided against all
things, hath furnished you with arms abundantly sufficient to
oppose and condemn it ; arms that wiU render you eternally
inexcusable, if you do not use them. For, first, he hath admonished
you, to the end you be prepared against all surprise, that scandals
would come. Secondly, he hath specified the conduct to be
observed, when those who are seated in the chair of Moses, are
wanting in their duty, and give not the edification that is expected
at their hands. He tells you that your duty, in such case, obliges
you to mind the purity of their doctrine, not the corruption of

354 ON SCANDAL.

their manners ; that you will be judged concerning the truths they
shall announce, not the life they shall lead ; that you should hear
their words, not imitate their deeds ; that you should obey their
orders, not follow their example ; that notwithstanding the irregu-
larities, whether true or false, which are laid to their charge, being
ministers of his word, and exercising, in his name, a power and
authority derived from him, you are not permitted to use them
contemptuously, as your contempt would refer to the master who
sent them : " He that despiseth you, despiseth me." Luke x.

4thly. What shall I say now of those whom I suppose to be
stedfast in the faith, having been nurtured in the bosom of the
Catholic Church ? Are they not inexcusable, since, instead of
seconding the zeal of so many holy labourers, and contributing to
reclaim from the paths of error, such of our bretlnen as have gone
astray, or of confirming those, whose faith still wavers, even after
their conversion, they help only, by their example, to alienate
them from us, or to plunge them again into their former blindness ?
For, beloved hearers, it is our bad example, let us own it to our
shame, that hinders such numbers, whom the circumstances of
their birth have unfortunately separated from the Catholic
communion, from sincerely returning within the pale of the church.
For the difficulty they find in coming over to us, no cause is
assignable with any propriety, but the immoral and disorderly life
we lead, and the impiety discoverable in the very exercise of the
worship we profess. If they saw us as sincere and fervent Catholics,
as our duty and that name oblige us to be, they would speedily
join with us in the unity of faith. What renders them more and
more tenacious of their principles is, the monstrous contrast we
give them room to observe between the faith we profess and our
conduct in life. What must they think, when they see the
manner in which we assist at the august sacrifice of the body of
the Lord ? Is not this alone sufficient to overturn the good dis-
position they have to believe in the reality of lus presence ? Doth
not this alone (for so they explain themselves) make it doubtful to
them, whether we believe it entirely ourselves, and whether it
were not more eligible entirely to disbelieve it, than to render
themselves culpable of such a profanation ? Whatever show of
zeal we may make for the extinction of schism, they will never
be persuaded that we are thoroughly convinced of the presence of
our God in his adorable sacrament, while they themselves see the

ON SCANDAL. 355

scandalous irreverences, which are committed in our churches, and
in the face of the altar. Hence they bring objections and argu-
ments against us, which affect them the more, as they are plain
and obvious.

It is our duty, therefore, to put a stop to this scandal, a scandal
with which heresy, maliciously, if you please, though perhaps not
without some cause, hath at all times upbraided us. These
are the means of bringing the work of God, with regard to our bre-
thren, to a happy period ; this is the violence, the amiable violence,
which by the gospel law we are allowed to make use of, in the
view of forcing them, if I may venture the expression, into
the house of God. Let us edify them by our exemple, and
without much reasoning we shall work their conversion. Let
us show them, by our conduct, that there is a thorough con-
formity, between what we believe and what we practise, and
they will not resist. Let our morals do honour to the faith we
profess, and a just comportment and true piety to the grand mys-
teries of our religion. We should be induced thereunto by the
motive alone which David proposes : "Lest the Gentiles should
say, where is their God?" Ps. cxiii. And if he be present, where
they openly profess a belief of his presence, why do not they pay
there homage and adoration ? Or, why do they daily assemble
together, and seemingly prize themselves for a disrespectful,
insolent, outrageous demeanour ?

5thly. In fine, what shall I say of those persons who encourage
godliness, and are faithful and assiduous in the practice of good
works, but subject to weaknesses, and betray failings, of which,
to the prejudice of good works and godliness, the libertine avails
himself? For, the world, though impious and licentious in itself,
expects that the servants of God be irreproachable ; that the irre-
gularity of their lives be proof against censure ; and that their
conduct be suitable to their profession. If in this they answer not
the expectations of the world ; if they discover frailties that are
incident to others ; if they be mere men, like others, and their
piety be blended with ordinary foibles ; if to pious practices they
join inordinate passions, refined vengeance, interested views,
ambitious schemes, a vivacity of temper, and hasty expressions :
if a person addicted to devotion be observed to be nice and punc-
tilious in a point of honour ; to be jealous, avaricious, unjust, a
slanderer, a double dealer : doth not this occasion a triumph for

356 ON SCANDAL.

the libertine, and, as it were, afford him a right of proscription ?
I know that the world, in decrying devotion, is frequently unjust.
But, for that very reason, (replies St. Chrysostom,) those who are
desirous of serving their God in spirit and in truth, should be
more exact and more regular ; should avoid with all diligence the
shadow of a fault ; and should, (according to the admonition of
St. Paul,) by these means, shut the mouths of the impious. Thus,
(says he,) addressing himself to the primitive Christians, shall our
enemies have nothing to reproach us withal ; thus shall not the
name of the Lord be blasphemed, nor his worship disparaged ;
thus shall our religion, and the God of our religion, be glorified
and magnified : " That the adversary may be afraid, having no
evil to speak of us." Tit. ii.

To conclude, Christians, and to collect together in one point of
view all the fruit to be drawn from these great truths. Let us be
constantly on our guard against the scandal that may be given us ;
and still more, that we ourselves never scandalize others. Let us
pray to God, daily, in the words of holy David : " Keep me from
the stumbling-block of them that work iniquity." Ps. cxl. If we
find that our neighbour be the occasion of our falling, let us adhere
to the rules which our Saviour prescribes, sparing neither eye nor
hand, if they give us scandal. Let us pull out the one, and cut
off the other. That is, however contrary it may be to nature, let
us part with what is nearest and dearest to us, rather than undergo
the irretrievable and eternal loss of our souls. But let us beware,
likewise, of leading our neighbour into the way of perdition ;
because by inducing him to associate in our ruin, we are doubly
children of wrath.

And you, above all, whom God hath distinguished, and raised
in the world, apply to yourselves this point of morality ; and
remember, that your great elevation and dignity make it your
particular duty, and lay you under a greater obligation than
common, of edifying the rest of mankind, as it is to be apprehended,
that your bad example may have an uncommon degree of influence
on the minds of the weak. For where is the man who hath
strength sufficient to stem so violent and headlong a torrent?
Call to mind these words of our blessed Saviour : " So let your
light shine before men, that they may see your good works ;"
(Matt. v. ;) that, edified at your conduct, and treading in your
footsteps, they may be happily guided to avoid eyil, and still more

ON SCANDAL. 357

happily to do good. Never forget that it is incumbent on you to
rid the world of the scandals that infest it, and that God, to that
end, hath chosen you, and placed you over the heads of others.
Ah ! rny Lord, that it is not in my power to do in this audience, and
in this court, what the angels will do at the last judgment ! One
of your most peremptory mandates to them will be, that "they
gather away all scandals out of your kingdom." Matt. xiii. That
I cannot prevent them ! That I cannot, by anticipation, prevent
the orders you will then give them ! That I cannot, to banish
henceforward all scandal, deliver your church from all the authors
of scandal ! not like the exterminating angel, by reprobating them
in your name, but as a minister of the gospel, by contributing to
their amendment and their sanctification ! It depends upon your-
selves, beloved hearers, that my wishes be fulfilled. Your chief
good is at stake, your most important concern, the salvation of
your souls, and your eternal happiness.

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